"Baroness Lyra, it's been several days, your radiance grows ever more dazzling."
At the banquet, a middle-aged noble wrapped in expensive fur looked at the pink-haired girl before him. His hand rested near his ceremonial sash, his eyes devoid of lust, instead carrying only subtle respect and gratitude.
Hearing the words of Lord Losterling, Lyra, holding her stemmed glass, straightened her legs and lifted her gaze, replied gently.
"Your Lordship flatters me."
It has been a week since news of the great victory arrived. The army of the Kingdom of Velys had been repelled beyond the border. Losterling City, the commercial hub previously closest to the battlefield, had finally shifted from peril to safety, returning to normal production.
Naturally, this was inseparable from Baroness Lyra, one of the key heroes of this victory, a mere twenty-two-year-old early tier Arcanist Mage.
