Chapter 50
Chapter 50
The waves of time flowed calmly forward.
And I simply let myself drift along with them.
There was no need to panic about falling overboard, nor any need to change direction.
The ship carrying me was sturdy and comfortable, and its course was honestly quite pleasant.
If I were to compare it to a person—
The ship that carried me was Iden, and the guiding lighthouse was my master.
That had been the entirety of my life for the past fourteen years.
I may have been born an orphan with no parents…
But calling someone this fortunate an “orphan” felt questionable.
I might act like an adult, but I didn’t really lack anything just because I had no parents.
Objectively speaking, I was living a more stable life than most families.
From the moment Iden took me in, I’d already been set on a good path.
My master’s training was brutally intense, but he was also quietly kind.
My companions and I joked and laughed whenever we had the chance, and we had grown close without even noticing.
The territory’s people were so few that I could recognize most of them by name and face.
At the very least, I never had to worry about going hungry.
And Belarck itself was slowly regaining vitality.
There was a time when I honestly thought, “This place is going to collapse soon.”
Looking back now, I felt almost embarrassed for thinking that.
Iden’s silver ring business was doing well.
And it seemed the farming methods had improved too, increasing harvest yields.
That guy, for all his foolish kindness, was good at everything.
As for me? I’d just been living well.
Nothing special happened, but the weather was nice, the breeze was nice.
Sometimes there were things worth laughing about. That was enough.
“Ahh, what a nice view!”
I muttered it out loud, as if it had become a habit.
My companions glanced at me like I was weird, but I didn’t care.
I was good at entertaining myself anyway.
Looking up, the sky was clear and bright.
Feeling oddly cheerful, I lifted my cup—but…
Ah. It had already gone cold.
It was fragrant when it was warm, but now it was just… average.
Still, “average” wasn’t bad.
I was someone very used to average.
And it wasn’t all bad.
I could drink it without burning my tongue.
Cold tea had its own charm.
“You’re insane. Enjoying the scenery? And you’re still drinking tea in a situation like this?”
Bungbungi complained, clearly unable to read the mood.
Had something gone wrong in his head again? Maybe he needed another lesson.
“We’re just used to this kind of scenery now,” Conrad said calmly.
As expected of Conrad. Unlike Bentley, he was full of understanding.
Hearing him speak up for me like that felt reassuring.
I’d even let him have a piece of my bread at dinner today.
“One, two, three, four…”
A counting voice caught my attention.
It was our youngest, counting the fallen orcs.
“Fifteen orcs!”
Ezekiel chimed in.
Being the youngest, and still timid, he usually handled support or cleanup work like this.
“Two trolls!”
Today’s results weren’t bad either.
Master would surely be satisfied.
And I was satisfied too. My master’s joy was my joy.
…Hmm.
Wouldn’t it be better to share this happiness with someone?
They say happiness doubles when shared.
“Pan, want some tea?”
“Huh?!”
“It’s cold, but it still smells good.”
“…I’m fine.”
“…Why are you making that face? Why are you looking at me like that? Trying to turn into Bentley or something?”
“……”
“Hey, don’t be like that. You too?”
“No, I just don’t have an appetite.”
“…Really?”
“Who has an appetite after looking at orc corpses?”
Hmm…
Fair point.
No, actually, very fair point.
After all, it wasn’t exactly normal to drink tea in front of corpses.
It only felt normal because Bentley had been nagging me so much.
Even I understood why they reacted like that.
Having a tea time right after slaughtering monsters… from an outsider’s perspective, I probably looked insane.
But I couldn’t help it.
This strange habit had already become part of me.
The reason I had tea after battles was to suppress the nausea that followed exterminations.
Wolves, boars, even goblins had been fine.
But orcs were different.
They weren’t elves or anything, but they walked on two legs and were close enough in size to humans.
That similarity made it harder to cut them down.
As proof, I’d thrown up more than once while fighting them.
And the way I overcame it wasn’t through willpower or conviction or anything so cliché.
It was Anna.
Every time I was overwhelmed by nausea, she would take my hand and lead me somewhere.
And there, there was always a small tea time waiting.
A cute baby, Dora, who was healing just by being there.
Celine, the elf mother, holding her.
Master, reluctantly sitting there because of family pressure.
And even Iden, who occasionally visited despite being busy.
Drinking tea with the people I cared about most made the nausea disappear like it was nothing.
After repeating that enough times, it became a trigger. A habit.
And after that, while others carried water flasks, I carried a teacup.
Someone might ask how that even works in battle.
But it does.
Celine had even placed enchantments on the cups, and hanging them at my waist made them three times sturdier anyway.
“I knew you were a weird girl, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”
I ignored Bentley’s usual nonsense.
There was no reason to feel ashamed.
Because—
My master once said:
If necessary, a knight must be able to cut down people. So cutting down monsters should feel no different.
That was what he had drilled into me.
For a kid barely in her early teens, it was an extremely harsh lesson.
But it was necessary for a knight.
Becoming numb to blood on one’s blade.
That was the foundation of knighthood.
Then maybe I was becoming the most proper knight here.
“…Kuk.”
I took a dignified sip of tea.
Look at me. So calm. So composed.
I probably looked cool. Cold. Like some hidden mastermind.
“Khehehe…”
Aura users are dead.
A true physical-growth knight stands here.
“Oh no! Serah is acting like Ezekiel!”
“Anna, stay away from her!”
“Hm… maybe I should’ve brought some calming medicine for her.”
I could feel my reputation dropping around me, but I ignored it.
I was good at being alone anyway.
More importantly—
A notification rang.
Ding!
Oh.
A new trait selection.
Had I leveled up?
“…These are all good.”
They all looked genuinely useful.
Even the annoying exclamation mark didn’t feel so annoying anymore.
Maybe this was what growing up felt like.
Living in a relatively peaceful environment had softened me a bit.
Still…
Which one should I pick?
They were all too good to decide easily.