The first light of dawn slowly filtered into the earthen house. A reddish glow slipped through the narrow crack of the window and rested on Rion's back. His shadow stretched across the floor, nearly touching the door—as if it was already eager to leave before he did.
Kneeling on the ground, Rion packed his belongings into an old cloth bag.
Two sets of simple clothes.
A worn leather belt.
And a few coins tightly wrapped in cloth—
25 amble. 12 pai.
He unwrapped them and counted once more. Yet he could still feel their weight. The cold metallic touch clung to his fingers—as if the coins were asking one last time,
"You still have a chance to turn back."
Behind him, the door creaked slightly.
"Rion… what are you doing?"
Althea's voice carried a kind of calm that felt as though it would shatter if touched too closely.
Beside her stood Lior.
His eyes were steady—but beneath that calm rested a strange curiosity.
Rion tied the mouth of his bag and slowly stood up. He did not fully turn toward them.
In a quiet voice, he said,
"I'm not going to wait anymore."
The air inside the room suddenly felt heavier.
This time he looked at them. There was no fear in his eyes—only determination.
"I want to become the Magic Knight Commander. This isn't just a fantasy. It's something that will become real."
Althea stepped forward.
"The path?" Her voice trembled. "You don't have magic power, Rion. Everyone knows that. Are you trying to prove yourself just to die?"
Rion answered calmly,
"If I stop now… I might regret it for the rest of my life."
The words were not spoken loudly. But they carried weight.
He added,
"I met someone today."
"Oliver Daren. He's a Magic Knight who fought without magic. An extraordinary swordsman. A retired Magic Knight. I've decided I'll train under him."
Althea suddenly moved closer to him.
"You don't understand!"
Tears gathered in her eyes, but they didn't fall.
"Becoming a Knight without magic power means… it means you're not just one step behind everyone else—you're ten steps behind. On the battlefield, no one will give you a chance. No one will care that you don't have magic."
Rion didn't waver. His gaze remained unchanged.
"That's why I have to become even stronger."
A moment of silence followed.
Lior slowly stepped forward. Even the sound of his footsteps felt deliberately slow.
"Stop, Althea."
His voice held no harshness—only the quiet weight of experience.
He looked at Rion for a long time, as if searching for something within him.
"He's had this dream since he was a child," Lior said softly.
"The day he realized he had no magic… he didn't break. From that day on, he just started working even harder."
Althea tried to say something, but stopped.
Lior slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out two desal—gold coins. By now, morning had fully arrived. In the early sunlight, their shine looked strangely cold.
He placed the coins in Rion's hand.
"I don't know if you'll succeed," he said.
"I don't know whether people will laugh at you… or respect you.
But I don't want you to stand in front of a mirror one day like I did and think—'I never even tried.'"
Rion's fingers trembled slightly.
The weight of the coins suddenly felt heavier. As if they were not gold, but an unfinished history.
Althea stood frozen.
"Are you really going to let him go?" Her voice finally broke.
Lior didn't look away.
"Do you want him to become like me?"
The words hung in the air.
Slowly, Althea's hand slipped away from Rion's arm.
The silence inside the room changed.
This was no longer the silence of resistance—
It was the silence of acceptance.
Rion lifted the bag onto his shoulder and walked toward the door.
As he opened it, the morning air brushed against his face. Cold. Raw. Unknown.
Rion started walking.
He never looked back.
But the two people standing behind him kept watching—until his shadow slowly faded from their sight.
Althea whispered,
"Will he come back?"
Lior did not answer.
After a long silence, he finally spoke—
"I just hope… he doesn't live with regret."
There was a heaviness in his voice that had been gathering for many years.
Suddenly, a memory pulled him back to a time long ago—
Flashback
The sky had been heavy that day. A soft drizzle fell from the clouds.
A young Lior stood in the courtyard. In front of him was his father—his eyes filled with unyielding resolve.
"You will never become a Magic Knight."