Sixteen years later.

After a long day’s work, Lena, owner of the Witch Flower Shop, packed up and returned to her villa.

Opening the door and passing through the foyer, she spotted a golden-haired girl already seated on the sofa.

"Why home so early today?"

The girl was Celia—a true noble heiress and an unrecognized Aspirant Hero.

"Sorry, Landlady," Celia murmured, head bowed, golden strands shadowing half her face. Her voice carried a hint of gloom. "I’ll need to move out early. I’ll still pay the full contract."

Lena’s villa stood spacious and often empty. At a friend’s request, she’d rented spare rooms to Celia. Seeing the girl’s downcast expression, Lena’s own mood dimmed slightly.

*Celia.*

The name had made her glance twice when she first heard it. Her own daughter shared that name—but this girl couldn’t be her child. Coincidences happened, and Celia’s noble status confirmed it. Her daughter was now a Demon Princess.

Living with this Celia always stirred memories of her own little girl: chubby cheeks, clear bright eyes, a soft voice calling "Mama"...

By now, that child would have grown into a graceful young woman like this one.

Yes—Lena was once Dorothy, the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden.

After leaving the Demon King’s Castle, she’d returned to her hometown, Vedona. She hid her identity, running a humble flower shop, no longer involved in human or Demon affairs. To avoid recognition, she’d even altered her appearance with magic: golden eyes turned crimson, her face subtly reshaped.

"Aren’t you on the same team? What’ll happen to them if you move out?"

Celia shared the villa with two other Aspirant Heroes—her teammates.

"They can find a new teammate. I only bring them trouble..."

Hearing she planned to quit her team too, Lena asked gently, "Did something happen?"

Celia’s hands tightened on her skirt. She hesitated—should she share her burden? The landlady was kind, but just an ordinary human with no magic. Confiding would only dump her worries onto someone powerless to help.

"Talking helps," Lena said softly, sitting beside her like a caring older sister. Her warmth melted defenses. Celia leaned against her, whispering:

"My family doesn’t want me to be a Hero. They say it’s too dangerous—people die. And the Demon Race hasn’t waged war in decades. No need for Heroes anymore."

"But being a Hero is my dream."

"Dream?"

"Yeah. I want to be like the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden—kind, strong, admired by everyone..."

Lena froze slightly at the name. Celia’s bright emerald eyes dimmed again, as if recalling something painful.

"Pity she failed in the end..."

Silverbloom was her idol, but her fate was unbearable: defeated after storming the Demon King’s Castle, she’d traded her life for her comrades’ freedom. Imprisoned in the Demon King’s Castle for over a decade, no news had ever surfaced. Celia knew—unwillingly—that her idol likely suffered endless humiliation. Survival seemed impossible.

"Not many remember the Silver Blossom Sword Maiden after twenty years. If she’s still alive, she’d be happy to hear that," Lena said, squeezing Celia’s hand. Her smile held a trace of sweetness.

Few Heroes idolized Silverbloom now. New generations had eclipsed her legacy, fading her into obscurity.

"My family’s sabotaging our team behind the scenes," Celia confessed, her small face pinched with worry. "No veteran Hero will train us. Without a mentor, the Heroes Guild won’t let us take the Hero exam."

"So you’re quitting the team?"

"Yeah."

"Pity. People’s views can change. Don’t lose hope—they might support you someday."

Lena spoke comfortingly, but inwardly, she hoped Celia *wouldn’t* become a Hero.

Heroes weren’t glamorous. They meant duty, risk, blood, and sacrifice. She didn’t want that path for her.

Especially since no Hero could ever defeat the Demon King.

Having met the Demon King herself, Lena knew no human stood a chance.

Celia would be better off inheriting her family’s estate.

"Thank you for your kindness, Miss Lena. Without you, I’d have nowhere to stay."

Celia rose, performing a perfect curtsey. Lena waved it off. "Thank Sharin. She asked me to rent to you."

"Sharin? You know the Heroes Guild president?"

"We met by chance."

In this world, magic-wielders stood above ordinary folk—and the Guild president was untouchable. Celia couldn’t fathom how a common florist knew such a figure.

She didn’t know Lena and Sharin had been acquainted for nearly a decade.

Lena remembered their first meeting: Sharin, then just a struggling Hero, drowning her sorrows in a tavern after hitting a power plateau. Drunk, she’d been targeted by thugs—until Lena intervened. Their friendship grew from there.

After more small talk, Celia glanced at the wall clock.

"It’s late. I should head to the Guild to process my withdrawal."

Sharing her worries had eased her heart. She curtseyed again and left alone for the Heroes Guild.

*Quitting just because they lack a mentor?*

Lena sighed, shaking her head. She wouldn’t interfere.