The noisy compartment fell silent again. Alone in the room, a man and a woman might spark drama—but they chose to chat through the night instead.

"Seems the matter's resolved," Lorin said. He elegantly lifted the delicate teacup from the table. Steam curled from the hot black tea, drifting across his handsome face. He took a gentle sip, then casually brought up the recent incident.

"Mm." Kevin replied nonchalantly, clearly unfazed. He grabbed his teacup and downed the scalding brew in one gulp. Tossing the empty cup aside, it landed smoothly on the table between them. "The captain's tea is decent," he remarked slowly, "but ultimately cheap."

"This is premium black tea—unavailable to most," Lorin countered, setting his cup down. His gaze lingered appreciatively on the stunning beauty opposite him. Miss Kevin was the loveliest woman he'd ever seen. "Your past life must've been luxurious, Miss."

"Mm, just okay," Kevin answered, propping his chin on a slender hand. He sank into the soft sofa, recalling his past briefly. Then, noticing Lorin's mistake, his exquisite face frowned slightly. "Lorin, I'm a man. Please stop calling me miss."

Silence crashed over the compartment. Only Lorin processed the words, concluding Miss Kevin lied about being male to deter his interest. "Don't worry, Miss Kevin," he insisted, reaching for the family crest hidden in his chest. A fleeting bitter smile crossed his lips. "I swear on my name, Lorin Yin—I'll never touch you."

"Forget it." Kevin waved a hand helplessly. A hint of apology touched his face. He extended his fair hand from his robe, pale blue eyes fixed on Lorin's bandaged wound. His rosy lips moved softly. Though he specialized in destructive magic, he knew a tiny bit of healing. "Lorin, give me your hand."

"Okay." Lorin extended his burned arm without hesitation. A faint ache lingered beneath the bandages—he knew no healing magic himself.

"Just so you know," Kevin added, "don't expect much. I can only ease the pain." He set low expectations to avoid disappointment.

"Mm, fine." Kevin gently pressed his hand on the wound. Silently chanting, a brilliant green light flared—and the injury healed completely.

"Miss, your healing magic is skilled," Lorin murmured, staring in disbelief at his pain-free arm. Such mastery required deep understanding—and strength no lower than the Fifth Tier.

"Ah, well..." Kevin's face showed confusion. His simplest spell shouldn't work this well. But he realized—it must be this body's nature. The result was good, though. To change the subject: "Honestly, Lorin, your body suits swordsmanship better. Your magic talent is mediocre."

"Same as my teacher said," Lorin replied somberly, lifting his teacup again. He avoided the topic. "Miss Kevin, what tier are you? I can't sense your level—you must have a concealing item." He was certain: lower tiers couldn't detect higher ones unless revealed.

"Tenth Tier."

"Pfft—cough, cough!" Lorin nearly spat out his tea. He set the empty cup down, studying Kevin's sincere face. No lie there. "If you won't say, fine. Where are you headed, Miss Kevin?"

"Not sure," Kevin answered calmly. The evening breeze brushed his silver-white hair as he gazed at the starry sky. His eyes reflected a distant homeland. "Just to find an old friend... and see my hometown again." Without the system, he might never have returned.

"I see." Lorin didn't press further—everyone had secrets. Silence settled, broken only by teacups clinking against the table.

Dawn's light swept away the dark. The Magic Airship glowed softly, pressing onward. Kevin sat quietly in the dim compartment, eyes closed, waiting.

"We're here," he murmured, voice soft as if afraid to wake someone. He rose slowly, his stiff body creaking, and shuffled to the window.

"Farewell, until fate brings us together again," Lorin said, emerging from the shadows. Sleepiness clung to his handsome, drowsy face.

"Mm, until we meet again by fate." Kevin didn't turn. He touched the glass, then passed through it—plummeting freely from the airship.

No reunion was likely. The world was vast. Yet, after a hundred years... Elise Osman, are you still alive?