"Thanks... thank you, Your Grace."

Raywin had become quite skilled with formal speech. As usual, the friendly assassin, Ash, expressed concern for his brother.

“Ray, what on earth have you been drinking so much of?”

“Just...”

He mumbled, and no one pressed further. After all, everyone already knew the full story. Ash’s words earlier were more of a reprimand than a question.

Ash spoke again.

“Next time you drink, call me too. I’ll be your conversation partner, Ray.”

“Yeah, thanks...”

“Are you planning to host another drinking session? If so, please invite us too.”

“Priest Hestio, Sir Iphail, shouldn’t you two be abstaining from alcohol?”

At that, Hildé spoke up.

“There’s no doctrine of abstinence in the Church of the Word!”

“Oh, is that so, Your Grace.”

“Yes. So, please be sure to invite me too, young Duke!”

“Oh, okay.”

Raywin answered absentmindedly, and Hildé, full of energy, spoke with enthusiasm. Prince, amused by their exchange, let out a hearty laugh.

“Well then, how about we all have dinner at the Royal Castle tonight? I’ll ask grandfather to make arrangements.”

“Oh, Linz! You’re a man of action!”

“Sounds good!”

“Good idea, brother.”

“I assume everyone agrees, so let’s go inside. It’s almost time for the service.”

“Yes, brother!”

Hildé, who had been clapping her hands in joy, suddenly changed her expression.

The Archbishop, in charge of the Peronsa Diocese, the officially ordained Cardinal of the Church, and as a saint who had received the 8th rank of divine power from the ‘Word of Creation’—she now led the way with a solemn face.

The five men who had been playful moments ago now followed her in a serious and respectful manner.

At the front of the Grand Chapel, the group split.

Hildé stood alone at the podium, where she would preside over the service. She scanned the faces of those in attendance.

Today's sermon was going to be a little different.

“It’s already been a year and a half. Time since they gave us peace.”

The mention of "them" immediately brought a solemn atmosphere to the chapel.

This was the Church of Saint Agnes, the first holy site of the Church of the Word. It was a place where the Sacred King and the Sword’s Master, who had represented the church, could never be forgotten.

In fact, among the worshippers filling the chapel each week, many had personal connections to these two: family members, friends, acquaintances, knights, mages, and priests who had fought alongside them in Armageddon.

There were also ordinary people who showed deep respect for the heroes, and families of the lost who saw their loved ones in them.

“Today, I want to talk about something different from the teachings.”

Hildé’s goal was to comfort these people.

“The seasons are about to change for the sixth time. Honestly, it still doesn’t feel real that the Sacred King and the Sword’s Master aren’t with us.”

“....”

“I’m sure many of you here are going through painful times, just like I am. The pain is so great that sometimes, living in a peaceful world built on their sacrifice feels unbearable. But...”

Hildé’s voice grew stronger.

“We must never think of the peace of this land as just their legacy. We, the survivors, must continue to cultivate this world.”

“....”

“Let’s live by sharing the grief, not the pain. Let’s cherish the miracles in our hearts, but never turn away from reality.”

“....”

“That way, when the miracle that may come someday arrives, we won’t be ashamed. When we meet our precious ones again, we can proudly say we lived well and waited. Let’s make ourselves happy.”

As she finished, a wave of sobs filled the chapel.

Unknowingly, Bianca, who had been playing the pipe organ, quickly started playing a soft hymn to cover the sounds.

Ironically, the warmth of her music only made the tears flow more.

It wasn’t the overwhelming pain that finally broke those who had endured it, but rather the simple kindness.

The people who had been trying to hold their tears now found themselves rushing out of the chapel, unable to bear the emotion any longer. Among them were Eltea and Duke Hispenril.

To comfort those who wept, their relatives followed behind them. This process was repeated over and over again.

In no time, half of the chapel seats were empty.

Throughout this, Hildé didn’t stop them. She simply remained in her place, looking back toward the pipe organ.

Hildé and Bianca exchanged glances.

“Good job, Hildé.”

“Thanks to you, young Duke.”

The speech was written by both Hildé and Bianca together.

In the moment of shared pride, just as they smiled at each other...

“...”

“...”

Bianca lowered her gaze in silence, and Hildé bit her lip. Their expressions slowly crumbled.

Tears spread quickly. Even though they remained indifferent to the cries filling the church, they weren’t immune to the weight of it.

“Ah, come back... We’ve been waiting...”

“Lord Word, please bring my sister and brother-in-law back to us.”

The desperate plea, soaked in emotion, was a prayer repeated many times a day.

But then...

Boom!

“Wha—?!”

“Whaaat?!”

Suddenly, a heavy roar filled the air, shaking the very ground.

“What was that?”

“An earthquake?!”

Everyone rushed outside to understand what was happening.

There were many outside already crying, so understanding the situation was quick.

Bianca asked Duke Hispenril.

“What’s going on?”

“A meteor has fallen, Bianca!”

“Over there!”

It was clearly no ordinary meteor. A bright light was pouring from the mountain ridge that Eltea was pointing toward.

People around them began to murmur.

“It seems like something unusual is happening.”

“Could it be a dungeon burst...?”

“Where is it? I can’t tell the distance because of the light.”

At that moment, Flegel and Moriphis, who had come for confession, were also present.

“Moriphis, can you pinpoint the location with magic?”

“Of course I can!”

Concentrating for a moment, Moriphis scanned the terrain with his magic, then began quickly sketching a map on paper.

It was a messy drawing, but someone managed to decipher it.

Duke Hispenril’s eyes widened.

“This place is...!”

“Do you know where it is, Father?”

“It’s the village where Eltea ran away to live!”

✠

The village of Rilstein, nestled in the mountains near Peronsa, was now nearly abandoned, with very few people left.

Yet, today, a crowd of over a hundred gathered in the village.

The white light that had drawn the Church of Saint Agnes’s followers vanished as soon as Duke Hispenril set foot at the village entrance.

“This way.”

Though the compass-like guide was gone, Duke Hispenril continued leading with certainty.

Finally, they arrived at a small cottage.

The worn-out wooden planks, the overgrown garden filled with weeds and wildflowers, and the hardened animal tracks in the soil all told of the cottage being abandoned for quite some time.

And then, the people discovered something astonishing.

The light pouring from the meteor had not disappeared. It had all been gathered into one place.

From the tightly shut cottage door, pure white light was spilling out, as though it were about to burst.

Everyone instinctively knew this wasn’t the way to an ordinary home.

Many of those gathered had extensive experience hunting dungeons. They voiced their suspicions.

“The shape of the gate is different, but this definitely looks like a dungeon entrance.”

“The aura is ominous. Could it be an S-class burst...?”

“It feels like something might burst out at any moment. But after Armageddon, there shouldn’t be any S-class dungeons...”

“Either way, we need to organize a hunting team right away!”

Then, a voice contrary to the consensus was heard.

“No.”

It was Duke ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ Hispenril. His voice, imbued with the authority of an Aura Master, silenced the murmuring around him.

Duke Hispenril stood silently, staring at the entrance of the cottage. He wasn’t alone in this.

Hildé, Moriphis, Flegel, and Marquis Rekandro, all at the peak of the three great powers, were standing with him, waiting for something.

Their unified reactions created a heavy tension, overwhelming everyone around them.

In a silence so deep, even their breaths seemed carefully controlled, they waited.

And then, after an unknown amount of time, an ordinary sound broke the stillness.

Click.

“...!”

The door of the cottage opened, and a tremendous light, blinding in its intensity, poured out.

As those who had just finished their prayers desperately tried to adjust their sight, something began to emerge.

Two silhouettes walked out from the pure white brilliance.

Everyone’s eyes widened, and they held their breath. The serene, dignified silence was broken by a familiar, ordinary sound.

“Ahh, they’re finally out!”

“Phew. Good work, kid.”

“Terry, you too! ...Wait, why is it so hot? Could it be summer already?”

“I can see the roses wilting on the fence, so it must be late spring...”

“Oh no! Where did my winter and spring go? I was just out looking for Mia, and now two seasons have passed!”

“Two seasons? Don’t jump to conclusions, kid.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe all four seasons passed and now we’re back to two...”

“Terry, is that really something you should be saying? Who told you to hide so much!”

“...Sorry.”

The familiar voices of the arguing man and woman were like old friends.

‘No way.’

‘Could it be...?’

As the light that had emerged from the doorway faded, their figures became clear.

The Sacred King, and the Sword’s Master.

They had returned.

‘My god.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Oh, Lord Word!’

Everyone covered their mouths. Eyes that had witnessed the miracle began to tear up involuntarily.

For those who still couldn’t believe it, the conversation between Ayleth and Tesilid seemed to make it all the more real.

“If you’re sorry, don’t even think about going anywhere alone. No, actually, maybe it’d be good for you to stay home for a few years. In the spring, I’ll plant a cherry tree in the yard, and you can watch it. In the fall, I’ll cook you some delicious food, and in the winter, we’ll sit by the stove, and I’ll warm up honey milk for you.”

“Summer’s missing. You’re not taking me to the beach?”

“The beach is in your eyes, just look in the mirror.”

“...”

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“Alright. If you’re with me, I’ll gladly do that. But, kid...”

“Yeah?”

“Look at all the people who’ve come to welcome us.”

“Eh?”

Only then did Ayleth look around. Many people were gazing at her and Tesilid, their faces filled with suppressed tears.

None of them dared to speak to them directly.

Ayleth, now serious and no longer playful, smiled softly and cautiously spoke.

“Everyone, did you wait a long time?”

Her voice held both regret and immense gratitude.

Those who had come to greet them all became choked up. Their eyes silently asked the questions they couldn’t voice.

Was that really what they wanted to say?

Why did they take so long to return?

...Of course, the momentary resentment was only temporary. The real message was different.

They were thankful.

Truly thankful.

They were grateful for their return.

Understanding that, Ayleth intertwined her hand with Tesilid’s and continued.

“Still... I found Terry and came back safely. Thank you for waiting.”

“...Ah, this.”

The voice of Bianca, hoarse from emotion, signaled the moment.

At last, the two had returned. Those who loved them, and those they loved, rushed toward them in their own way, calling out their names.

Soon, they were surrounded on all sides by those who embraced them.

And the moment of reunion was wrapped in the late spring breeze.

A kind and gentle wind, perfect for this peaceful world.

[ Congratulations, Ayleth Rodeline. You are the hero who saved the ‘world’.]