Long after the war ended, Rogers’ life changed completely.

The young blacksmith who once came from a lowline family had risen to a position that many could only dream of reaching.

His achievements continued growing.

His reputation spread throughout Britannia.

Eventually, he was granted noble status and established his own blacksmithing company dedicated to weapon production.

The once ordinary family he came from had also risen alongside him.

From a non-Alchemist lowline family that worked in mines, they became a respected highline family with status and influence.

Many Alchemists treated him with respect.

Powerful nobles invited him to craftsmanship conventions.

His opinion carried weight and his name carried authority.

The young man who once spent his days sweating beside a furnace had become one of the greatest blacksmiths in the Kingdom.

Yet...

None of it mattered.

Not really.

At least not to him.

Because the person he wanted to share all of it with was gone.

The title.

The fame.

The wealth.

The respect.

None of those things brought him happiness anymore.

Even blacksmithing, the thing he once loved most in the world, gradually lost its color.

People began noticing the change.

The cheerful blacksmith disappeared.

In his place stood a stiff and strict man who rarely smiled.

That was how Rogers gained the reputation he carried today.

A difficult blacksmith.

A harsh blacksmith.

A perfectionist.

Many feared working under him, while only few understood why he had become that way.

Ahh...

Should I just retire?

The thought crossed Rogers’ mind as he walked through the corridors of his massive industry.

The sound of machinery echoed from distant sections of the building.

Workers moved back and forth carrying materials.

Steam hissed from pipes mounted along the walls.

A busy day.

Just like every other day.

Rogers had just finished inspecting the primary sword-production division.

Several blacksmiths had made mistakes.

Nothing major.

Nothing serious.

Mistakes that most supervisors would’ve ignored.

But to Rogers...

They were unacceptable.

"None of them can do things properly."

He rubbed his forehead.

A deep frown settled on his face.

"No passion."

His voice carried obvious dissatisfaction.

"Not a single one."

Ping!

A notification suddenly sounded from his pocket.

Rogers stopped walking, then pulled out his Zphone.

A message waited for him.

He opened it.

’Please, Mr. Rogers, remember that the Mainline children are coming here for their sightseeing visit.’

Rena_Secretary_of_the_Legnd

’Please be on your best behavior with the Alchemist supervising them.’

Rena_Secretary_of_the_Legnd

Rogers stared at the messages.

Then frowned even harder.

"Does she think I’ll start a fight with children?"

His expression became displeased.

"What kind of man does she think I am?"

He sighed.

Unfortunately...

The more he thought about it, the more he understood why she sent the warning.

After all, Rogers knew exactly how arrogant some Mainline Alchemists could be.

Many looked down on blacksmiths.

Many considered craftsmen inferior.

Over the years, he had argued with plenty of them.

If he met one of those types today...

There would definitely be trouble.

"I’ll just stay in my office." He nodded to himself. "Avoiding them sounds easier."

"Mr."

A small voice suddenly spoke from behind him.

Rogers stopped.

Then immediately turned around.

"Hm?"

There was nobody there.

The corridor behind him was empty.

Only workers moving in the far distance.

"Down here, Mr."

The small voice spoke again.

Rogers blinked, then looked downward.

Standing beside him was a little girl.

A very small little girl.

Little Vera.

She stared back at him with a completely blank expression.

A notebook rested beneath one arm.

A pencil remained in her other hand.

The contrast between her appearance and her expression felt strange.

She looked like a doll.

A noble doll.

Her black Victorian dress reached her ankles.

Crimson lace decorated the cuffs and collar.

Red embroidery curled along the edges like blooming roses.

A scarlet ribbon rested neatly around her waist.

Black stockings disappeared into polished boots.

A black beret rested atop her carefully groomed hair.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

And somehow...

A little unsettling.

Especially because she showed almost no emotion.

"You are one of the Mainline children here for the sightseeing tour?"

Rogers looked genuinely confused.

Little Vera nodded.

"How did you get lost?"

"I don’t know."

She answered immediately.

"I was walking."

A pause.

"Then I got lost."

The answer was delivered with complete seriousness.

"Really?"

Rogers looked even more confused.

"Really."

Little Vera replied.

The same blank face remained.

The same calm tone.

For several seconds, Rogers simply stared at her.

Then sighed.

"Stay here."

He pointed beside her.

"I’ll call someone to bring you back to your group."

A gentle smile appeared on his face.

Then he turned to leave.

"Wow..."

Little Vera’s voice suddenly sounded behind him.

"So, you want to leave a little child like me here."

Rogers froze.

"Alone."

The girl clasped her notebook.

"In this very large building."

Another pause.

"All by myself."

The way she said those words somehow made him feel guilty.

The old blacksmith immediately turned around.

"Argh."

He rubbed his forehead.

"Fine. On second thought, follow me to my office."

He pointed toward a nearby hallway.

"It’ll be easier for me to contact your supervisor from there."

Little Vera narrowed her eyes slightly.

The change was so small most people would’ve missed it.

"Isn’t that suspicious?"

She asked.

Rogers blinked.

"What?"

"Following an old man like you into a private office."

She looked him up and down.

"When I don’t even know you."

A pause.

"You might be one of those strange old men."

Rogers felt his blood pressure rising.

"A strange old man?"

"A perverted old man."

Little Vera corrected calmly.

"One who lusts after rare beauties like myself."

She slowly stepped backward.

Rogers nearly choked.

What is this child saying?

His mind immediately became chaotic.

And why is she saying it so seriously?!

Wait...

Wasn’t she the one asking me for help?

"Calm down."

He raised both hands.

"Stay back, creep."

Little Vera immediately replied.

"I’ll scream."

The words came out in the same emotionless tone, which somehow made them even more terrifying.

"Wait!"

Rogers panicked.

"My name is Rogers Bremer."

He quickly pulled out his industry identification card.

"I’m the owner of this place."

He showed it to her.

"There is absolutely no reason for me to harm someone of your status."

"And?"

Little Vera replied flatly.

Her expression didn’t change.

Not even slightly.

The little girl simply stood there with her notebook tucked beneath one arm, staring at Rogers as though she were waiting for him to provide a better argument.

"I know an old man of very high status."

She spoke calmly.

"A bit older than you."

A pause followed.

"He’s interested in those kinds of things."

Her black eyes remained fixed on him.

"So, you could be like him too."

Then she added the final blow.

"The higher the status, the stranger people become."

The statement was delivered so naturally that it almost sounded like common sense, then she stopped walking backward.

Rogers blinked twice.

Then three times.

For a brief moment, he actually thought about what she said.

"...She makes a lot of sense."

He unconsciously nodded while the words slipped out before he could stop himself.

Little Vera continued staring.

"..."

Rogers froze, then immediately shook his head.

"No, no, no."

He raised both hands.

"I mean, your logic makes sense, but trust me...I’m absolutely not that type of person."

To emphasize his innocence, he even placed a hand against his chest.

The gesture looked sincere.

Unfortunately...

The person standing opposite him was Little Vera.

Silence filled the corridor.

Workers occasionally passed in the far distance.

Steam pipes hissed softly from somewhere deeper inside the building.

Yet neither moved.

Little Vera simply stared at him.

Her face remained blank.

The type of stare that made people question themselves.

Eventually...

"Lead the way."

She walked toward him, then lightly tugged on the edge of his coat.

Rogers immediately released a breath of relief.

Finally, progress.

The old blacksmith quickly led her toward his office.

Along the way, he instructed nearby workers to contact Rena and inform the Mainline supervisor that one of the children had wandered away from the sightseeing group.

By the time they arrived, several employees were already moving to carry out the order.

The office itself was spacious.

Tall shelves lined one side of the room.

Several awards sat displayed inside glass cabinets.

The walls carried framed photographs from craftsmanship conventions.

Various weapons rested on stands throughout the room.

Some were prototypes.

Some were famous creations from Rogers’ younger years.

Each carried a small plaque beneath it.

Little Vera climbed onto a chair.

She placed her notebook and pencil neatly on the desk, then she began looking around the office.

Her eyes moved slowly from one display to another.

The awards.

The weapon designs.

The paintings.

The certificates.

Nothing escaped her attention. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

A few moments later, a female office worker entered carrying a glass of cold milk.

The woman smiled politely.

"Here you go, Miss."

She bowed then carefully handed the glass over.

Little Vera accepted it with both hands.

"Thank you."

Her reply was polite.

Though her tone remained as flat as ever.

The office worker smiled awkwardly before excusing herself.

Rogers sat behind his desk.

Almost immediately, he picked up the stack of documents waiting for him.

His attention returned to work.

Or at least...

He attempted to return to work.

"Why the stiff face, Mr. Rogers?"

Little Vera suddenly asked after taking a sip of milk.

Rogers looked up.

The old blacksmith blinked.

"It’s nothing you need to worry about." His voice softened slightly. "It’s adult stuff."

Little Vera lowered the cup.

"You say that as if it’s something special."

She looked toward the documents scattered across the desk, her expression remaining completely blank.

Rogers chuckled lightly.

"Well."

He slid one document into a folder, then grabbed another.

"It’s something a child like you won’t understand yet."

The answer sounded confident.

Little Vera didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t argue.

Instead, Rogers decided to change the subject.

"Actually..."

He leaned back slightly.

"I’m curious. What made you wander away from your group?"

She answered immediately.

"I wanted to meet you."

Rogers froze.

"Me?"

He pointed at himself.

The little girl nodded.

"Yes."

Her answer was straightforward.

"I heard you’re one of the best blacksmiths in the Kingdom."

Her black eyes met his.

"So, I wanted to meet you personally." Then she added, "And ask you to teach me blacksmithing."

The office became silent.

Completely silent.

Even the ticking clock mounted on the wall suddenly felt louder.

Rogers stared at her.

Little Vera stared back.

Neither looked away.

The directness of her request caught him completely off guard.

Eventually...

He laughed lightly.

The kind that came from genuine surprise.

"I’m sorry." He leaned back fully in his chair. "But I can’t teach you."

His answer was firm.

There was no hesitation.

No room for negotiation.

"In the first place, you’re going to become an Alchemist."

He pointed toward her.

"So why learn a skill you’ll never need or use?"

The old blacksmith folded his arms.

"You can find another teacher if you insist, but I won’t be the one teaching you."

His voice carried finality.

The discussion should have ended there.

Yet...

Little Vera merely tilted her head.

Still looking at him.

Still observing him.

"Hm."

She thought for a moment.

"The stories I heard about you described someone very differently."

Rogers raised an eyebrow.

"A cheerful person, a person who loved teaching others and a person who was always willing to help other blacksmiths improve."

Her gaze narrowed slightly.

Not aggressively.

More like she was studying him.

"But the person sitting in front of me feels completely different."

A brief pause followed.

Then...

"Is it because of age?"

The office fell silent again.

Rogers stared at her, then unexpectedly laughed.

A genuine laugh.

Though it didn’t last long.

"Well..."

His hand slipped into his pocket.

A familiar silver locket appeared.

"I suppose that’s part of it."

He rubbed the locket absentmindedly.

His smile gradually faded.

Little Vera’s eyes dropped toward the table in front of her.

"You lost your passion."

The words landed heavily.

Rogers’ hand stopped moving.

"What?"

He frowned a bit.

Little Vera lowered her cup onto the table.

A soft clink echoed through the room.

"The thing that pushed you to become who you are today."

She pointed toward the awards.

The weapon displays.

The office.

The industry beyond the walls.

"You lost it."

Her voice remained calm.

"You achieved everything."

She looked around.

"The success, the reputation and the status."

Then she looked directly at him.

"But the thing that made you chase all of that is gone."

The old blacksmith remained silent.

His fingers slowly tightened around the locket.

"Yet you’re still here."

Little Vera continued.

"Why?"

The question hung in the air.

"Is it because of adult obligations?"

She raised a finger.

"Family responsibilities?"

A second finger.

"You’ve already fulfilled both."

Her gaze remained steady.

"You’ve done more than enough for your family, Mr. Rogers."

The old blacksmith opened his mouth, then closed it again, because he couldn’t deny it.

Little Vera looked down at the desk.

Then continued.

"Walking away isn’t always losing." Her voice remained calm. "Sometimes it’s rebuilding."

The office grew quiet with even the sounds outside seeming distant.

"You lost the thing that moved you."

She looked back up.

"So now you need to find something else."

Something flickered within Rogers’ eyes.

A small reaction.

The first genuine reaction since the conversation started.

"Something that can bring you peace, something that can bring you a sense of fulfillment."

She folded her hands together.

"It’s selfish."

Then she shrugged.

"But we humans have always been selfish."

The statement sounded surprisingly mature coming from a little girl.

"Mr. Rogers."

Little Vera’s gaze remained fixed on him.

"I think you should take in a disciple."

Rogers blinked.

"A disciple?"

"Yes."

She nodded.

"Find someone worth teaching. Develop them into the person you wish to see."

Her voice softened slightly.

"Maybe train him or her in somewhere peaceful, like a place away from all of this."

She gestured around the office.

"The remaining years of your life shouldn’t be spent sulking."

The words were blunt.

Painfully blunt.

"You should spend them creating something that gives you fulfillment again."

At that moment...

The office door opened.

Rena entered alongside the worried sightseeing supervisor.

The atmosphere instantly changed.

Little Vera climbed down from her chair.

As though she hadn’t just spent the last several minutes dismantling the emotional defenses of a grown man.

The old blacksmith remained seated.

Completely still.

His eyes never left the little girl.

Because for the first time in years...

Someone had looked directly at the wound he kept hidden from everyone else.

And somehow...

That person was a little girl carrying a notebook and a pencil.