Moonlight filtered through the tall wutong tree, bathing a patch of courtyard ground. Though the air was muggy, the moonlit night always brought a trace of coolness—this continent’s magical moonlight.

Silver light covered the earth like a sugar-dusted mint leaf, turning the grass pale and soft. It released wisps of chill, easing the summer night’s heat just a little.

Ken searched everywhere but found no one. Under this half-century-old tree, his tightly furrowed brows relaxed unconsciously.

“I finally found you.”

Sure enough, she lay on the branches, gazing leisurely at the distant moon, lost in thought.

Chirp—chirp—

The cicadas’ long drone pierced the silent sky, making the summer night feel even more restless and stifling.

The bright moon seemed magical, endlessly drawing Allen in. She stayed silent, deep in contemplation.

Seeing Allen wouldn’t speak, Ken hoisted his basket and scrambled up the tree in no time.

As usual, she wore an oversized men’s shirt that dragged loosely on her, barely staying on. Her lower half fit perfectly into snug breeches. Her bright silver hair tangled wildly, as if never combed.

Allen turned to look at him but said nothing.

Time seemed frozen as they silently locked eyes.

“Pfft… haha…” Allen chuckled dryly.

Ken felt puzzled. From her beautiful face, he caught a hint of self-mockery.

She forced a smile, but her unnatural expression betrayed her true thoughts.

“You know, climbing this wutong tree took me most of the night,” she finally said, words Ken couldn’t grasp.

“I don’t understand.”

“Haha… never mind,” Allen replied with a bitter smile.

Frail as if boneless, she had no battle spirit or elemental affinity—not even a trace. On this continent, even plants held elemental affinity, yet she was worthless, like a cripple. She couldn’t be a mage or a warrior.

Worst of all, an old leg injury throbbed faintly during intense movement—a hidden tendon wound that refused to heal. That’s why climbing took Allen so long. It wasn’t lack of effort; her body was broken.

She wanted to tell Ken but held back, swallowing her frustration with a bitter smile.

“Want dessert?”

Ken knew Allen wouldn’t revisit the topic, so he quickly changed the subject.

Allen stared into his brown eyes, silent for a long moment.

“Eat,” she finally said. She grabbed a cream cake from Ken’s basket, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed wordlessly.

Her delicate brows furrowed slightly, layered with unspoken worries. Ken longed to help but couldn’t break her silence. He watched quietly as the girl beside him intently munched the cake, as if venting through every bite.

After a while, she finished the cake and drifted back into blank staring. Bored, Ken simply lay on the tree trunk, counting stars.