Half the cake remained, the plucked candles lay scattered across the floor. Elisa bent to gather them, then sat on the sofa, her smile fading away.

The party had ended, leaving the living room in utter chaos—burst balloons littered the floor and couch, colorful confetti covered every surface. It was enough to give anyone a headache.

The birthday celebration had been lively, yet Elisa felt an emptiness inside, as if something vital was missing from her heart.

Mrs. Josephine didn’t idle; she’d already started sweeping the mess. Watching her mother’s busy back, Elisa hesitated long before asking, “Mom, do you not believe me?”

She’d mentioned meeting Shopkeeper Lena and the Hero girl, and though Mrs. Josephine always nodded in praise, she likely never truly believed Elisa could know them.

Mrs. Josephine set down the broom and sat beside her. Gazing at her grown daughter, she smiled slightly, crow’s feet crinkling at her eyes.

Her rough palm stroked Elisa’s head as she said, “I know you befriended Heroes to ease my worries, but don’t force yourself. We’re ordinary people. Magic, Heroes—let it all go.”

“But you used to—”

“In the past, your father and I were wrong. We didn’t consider your feelings. I’m truly sorry.”

Regret filled Mrs. Josephine’s face. She’d been disappointed when Elisa showed no magic. Now, she realized how deeply that must have hurt her daughter.

She was grateful Elisa hadn’t strayed from that pain, but had grown up strong instead.

“Seeing all those friends you made today… I’m so happy for you, Little Sha. You’ve grown, and I can finally rest easy.”

“I’ve been grown for ages! I can take care of myself without them. You—stop worrying so much. It’ll tire you out!”

Elisa crossed her arms, pouting. Mrs. Josephine smiled, a strand of white hair slipping by her ear.

Silence settled between them. Elisa gently rested her head on her mother’s shoulder. Only their breathing filled the room.

Outside, the drizzle continued, but the clouds parted. Stars twinkled as the silver moon reappeared in the night sky—serenely beautiful.

…

A white longsword cleaved through a crimson flesh wall. The gale scattered raindrops. Celia backflipped to dodge the Demon’s strike, landing firmly before the opera house.

Rain soaked her dress, clinging uncomfortably. Her golden hair clung to her face, making her look utterly disheveled.

She didn’t care. Wiping blood from her blade, she glared at the Demon. “You won’t pass!”

Nearby, Aurora and Isa held their weapons, surrounding the third-tier Demon.

Though they’d never fought a Demon before, two months of brutal training let them hold their ground.

Since the encounter, the Demon hadn’t advanced an inch.

Sadly, they couldn’t kill it either. This Demon regenerated terrifyingly—even decapitated, it revived in a blink.

As its wings trembled anew, Celia gripped her sword. A familiar voice cut through the air: “Enough! I’ll handle it.”

Flames lit the dark sky. A figure plummeted like a meteor, crushing the Demon into fragments.

Rain evaporated near the newcomer. Recognizing that back, Celia whispered, “Roland?”

It was Roland, a fourth-tier Hero from the Heroes Guild.

She nodded at Celia, then fixed icy eyes on the reformed Demon. Brilliant flames danced between her fingers.

Magic gathered in her palm. She snorted coldly, flinging the fire outward.

Crimson flames formed a wall around the Demon. Rain couldn’t penetrate; escape was impossible.

At Roland’s command, the flames contracted. The Demon’s terrified eyes darted for a gap. But as Roland’s teammates arrived, its struggle turned futile.

Its crimson body burned to ashes. Even its regeneration was powerless here.

Watching silently, Celia felt the immense gap. The Demon they’d barely held off was crushed effortlessly by Roland. Yet even such a Hero was fragile before a fourth-tier Scorpion Demon.

The Hero assessment was in two or three months. Could they truly win against fourth-tier monsters?

The gap with Roland made Celia waver. She forgot she was only second-tier magic, an Aspirant Hero for just two months.

After confirming the Demon’s death, Roland turned to Celia, expression unreadable. “You’re still Aspirant Heroes?”

Flames shielded Roland from rain. Not a drop wet her shoes. Celia and the others stood drenched, soaked to the bone.

“Yes. We haven’t taken the assessment yet.”

“Stopping a Demon from ravaging the city—even Aspirant Heroes earn Guild rewards. Come to the Guild now. Bring your instructor.”

Roland spoke flatly, but her voice wavered slightly at “instructor.”

“Sorry. We need to find someone. Rewards can wait.”

Celia refused. Exchanging a glance with Aurora, they sprinted toward the opera house.

They’d blocked the Demon from the crowd behind, but worry gnawed at them—Lena hadn’t replied to Celia’s message.

Roland watched them vanish into the rain, face blank. Her teammate frowned, approaching uncertainly.

“Captain, they registered as Aspirant Heroes just two months ago. Now they fight this Demon?”

“I also heard they killed many third-tier monsters in the Silent Forest. If true… isn’t that terrifying progress?”

Roland stayed silent. She remembered their naive faces two months ago—when she’d scolded their instructor. Now, she realized her blindness.

That instructor was likely the senior Sharin had mentioned.