The next day, Lilithia’s forge was closed. She left a letter on the table—if Fiore saw it… though thieves might have stolen it. Or a sudden gale might have swept it away. But it didn’t matter. It was just words she wanted to say. If he saw them, great. If not, she’d tell him herself.

Lilithia had woven "presence-dampening" enchantments into all her tiny accessories. She’d gotten quite skilled at such little tricks. Nothing powerful. Nothing fancy. Just handy.

The only conspicuous thing was the massive backpack slung across the girl’s shoulders. It bulged with forging tools, daily necessities, and her "battle outfit."

First, she bought supplies in town. Then, after paying a fee, she joined a merchant caravan heading for a proper city.

Perched on a cart pulled by two small land drakes, Lilithia felt slightly nervous—but not truly afraid. At her current level, she could handle a couple of bandits easily. Unless she met someone truly formidable.

After all, she had a trump card.

Something she’d researched long ago. She didn’t know if this world had anything like it, but she’d made it anyway.

"Magic bombs."

Crafted from excellent mana-conductive materials, these devices stored volatile energy. Day after day, Lilithia poured her mana into them. Though her blood-ritual magic could probably kill a man now, that was risky. What if her enemy was a master swordsman? Or a powerful mage?

No one traveled without a safety net.

She had ten such bombs. Each contained raw, unstable mana that would detonate with special triggering. Their blast should rival a grenade. But against what tier of foe? If she met someone stronger… well, she’d just have to trust Fiore. Hope the protagonist would drop from the sky to save her.

*Ugh. This is digging my own grave. There were easier choices.*

Back when she was a man, she’d been content as a couch potato. A tiny rented room. A few thousand bucks a month. Work, surf the net, sleep.

Why strive so hard in another world?

Wouldn’t it be simpler to stay a convenient woman in Fiore’s arms? …Damn it. She just couldn’t accept that! *I should be the protagonist too!*

The caravan was large and well-protected—likely backed by nobles. Bandits wouldn’t dare attack.

Majestic as a dragon winding across the land, it finally carried Lilithia toward the first city in her understanding.

Fiore’s hometown.

The origin of the Tulip Empire—Tulip City.

Rumors said it bloomed with tulips of every hue, a beauty the Tulip Kingdom cherished. Though Lilithia had heard the Tulip Empress had little love for the flower symbolizing affection. She was said to be… warlike.

…

*I’ve become the Sword Saint!*

Fiore’s heart roared with triumph. After parting with Lilithia, he’d endured brutal trials, danced with death, and shattered the limits of mortal swordsmanship. He’d ascended to Sainthood. Now he could protect that girl. Never again would he let the past repeat.

"Fiore! Becoming Sword Saint means new duties! You can’t just run away!" Behind him stood a golden-haired girl in a pure white hat—Lisanna, his childhood friend, the sisterly figure who’d always been there.

*Before, I’d have stammered an answer.*

But now…

Fiore turned firmly, meeting the eyes of the girl who’d grown up beside him. "I must find someone. She’s been my strength these past two years—my reason to overcome every obstacle."

"…Huh?"

Lisanna’s expression visibly stiffened. Fiore finished speaking and shot skyward again. Even before becoming Sword Saint, he’d walked on air using "ki." Now, his mastery let him glide effortlessly on currents.

"W-wait! What is this? I’ve never heard of such a thing…" Lisanna reached out as if to grab him.

Fiore flashed a childlike grin—the same one etched in Lisanna’s memories.

"That’s because I never told you."

"Wait for me, Fiore!"

He remembered the village where Lilithia lived. As he drew nearer, unease crept in.

Two years had passed. She’d be eleven now.

*Eleven.*

She was strong. She’d promised not to lie to him… but she’d never said she *liked* him. What if, in his absence, she’d fallen for someone else?

Lilithia was extraordinary. Ordinary men wouldn’t sway her—but would *he*?

She’d teased about having "indecent thoughts" about him once…

Fiore descended from the sky and began walking. The village paths were unchanged. Lisanna caught up, her many ornaments jingling.

"Fiore, explain. Who is this person?"

He kept walking. "You’ll see. But listen, Lisanna—no pranks this time. She’s the girl I love. Yes, she’s young. But my feelings are real. Don’t interfere."

"Hmph…"

"You always did that. Said it wasn’t fair for only Fiore to be happy." He recalled the past. "I never felt that way about other girls. But Lilithia… I’m serious."

*Lilithia?*

A name she’d never heard. In this tiny village? A girl Fiore loved—unknown even to her? What kind of woman could make him abandon his victory banquet the moment he became Sword Saint?

Finally, they reached the forge. A sign hung on the door:

*"Closed temporarily. The owner is away."*

Lisanna felt a trace of relief.

But Fiore noticed something else—a symbol drawn after the notice. It matched the creature he’d once carved onto a repaired item for Lilithia.

He thought for a moment, then moved a potted plant beneath the sign. There lay a key.

*She always hid it here during sword lessons. No one taught her this… except me.*

"!"

Lisanna sensed trouble.

Fiore pushed inside. The room was tidy. Lilithia hadn’t been gone long. Dust hadn’t settled. His eyes locked on an envelope on the table.

He strode over. Lisanna followed.

Fiore opened it. Several pages lay inside.

*To My Sun,*

*Two years have slipped by unnoticed. I’ve never slacked. Every day, gazing at the sunlight through my window, I think of your radiance—of you, my sun. Chasing that light fills me with strength. But the sun remains distant. When I heard you became Sword Saint… congratulations. You’ve reached the world’s peak. While I… still struggle in the mud.*

*But don’t worry.*

*I said once: if you’re the sun, I’ll be the moon. I’ll borrow your light. I want us to hang together in the same sky.*

*You gave me courage, Fiore. I’m timid by nature—but because of you, I took my first brave step. Alone in this world, your presence warms me.*

*Wait for me. Wait as I follow your footsteps, one by one. And—shine brighter! Let me hear your name in every corner of the world. Let me see your light.*

*Yet… I’m weak. So weak. If I grow tired. If I’m afraid. If I cry your name from my heart… please come. Wrap me in your warmth. Then—I’ll say the important words I hold.*

*Lilithia*

*P.S. Ha! There’s another letter behind this—give it to the girls who came with you. Gotta say hello! Don’t read it, Fiore~ (Though if you do, I won’t mind… but your relationships might collapse~)*

Fiore almost saw the silver-haired girl’s mischievous grin. *Even now, teasing me?*

He handed the second letter to Lisanna, curiosity burning but restrained.

"She said this is for the girls who came with me."

Lisanna took it.

*To the women who are—or might become—loser dogs in love: …*

Lisanna nearly tore the letter apart. She didn’t know the term "loser dog," but its meaning struck her like ice.

*No… I must take this back. To the others.*

Their rivalry had to end. While they fought each other… Fiore was slipping into another’s hands.