Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Aldehrt mansion, bathing the training yard in a warm glow. The clang of wooden swords echoed in the air, followed by a soft thud and a frustrated groan.
"You're getting slow, Steve!"
"It's because you're cheating!" he called out with a grin, rubbing his shoulder where her strike had landed. "No fair using my weakness for your smile as a distraction."
Lealaine giggled, twirling her wooden sword with a playful spin. "It's not cheating if it works."
They were fifteen now—grown enough that people began to whisper about their future. It wasn't uncommon for childhood friends in noble houses to become engaged, especially when both families were close. And for Steve... the idea didn't sound bad at all.
In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he found himself abandoning his old dreams.
The wild ambitions from his previous life—becoming OP, forming a legendary harem, conquering dungeons, slaying dragons... all that felt like a blurry childhood fantasy now. As the years passed, his focus had shifted, slowly and unknowingly.
He didn't realize it until one day, watching Lealaine laugh under the plum tree in the garden, her hair swaying with the wind and sunlight dancing in her eyes. In that moment, it clicked.
He wasn't chasing strength anymore.
He was chasing her smile.
---
That evening, after dinner, they sat by the window in the library, watching the sunset together.
"Do you remember," Steve began, voice soft, "when I used to talk about becoming the strongest in the world?"
Lealaine chuckled. "Used to? You were obsessed. You even said you'd build a harem. I almost smacked you back then."
He laughed, leaning back against the cushions. "Yeah... I was stupid."
"No," she said, voice lowering. "You were just dreaming. It's not wrong to dream, Steve."
He looked at her then, her gaze fixed on the horizon, fingers gently resting on her lap. She wasn't a child anymore. Her face had matured, though the warmth in her expression remained unchanged. The way she looked at him... it made his chest ache with something too complex to name.
"But I don't need that dream anymore," he said, surprising even himself. "I'm happy with what I have."
Lealaine turned to him, eyes wide. She smiled—soft, knowing—and placed her hand over his.
"Me too."
---
Time moved gently, like a river flowing without urgency.
Steve continued training. Not obsessively like before—just enough to maintain his strength. He still sparred with his father, occasionally ventured into the forest with guards, and read up on mana theory from old tomes, but the fire that once burned in him had dimmed.
And yet, for the first time in both his lives, he was content.
On the morning of his fifteenth birthday, the mansion was decorated with golden banners and bright flowers. Lealaine gave him a small box, blushing as she handed it over.
"Happy birthday, Steve. This... it's not much, but... I made it myself."
Inside was a charm—a braided leather string with a gem she'd found during one of their childhood trips to the forest. It was rough, not perfectly polished, but it held more meaning than any treasure he'd ever seen.
"Thank you," he whispered, holding it close to his heart. "I'll wear it always."
Their parents, as always, teased them lovingly that day.
"You two are practically married already!" Robert laughed.
"Shush, Robert," Bella scolded, though her smile said she agreed.
The Veloras shared that smile too. Everything felt like it was falling into place.
---
A few days later, as Steve returned from a small errand in the city, he noticed something off.
The mansion was quieter than usual.
Too quiet.
Rofland met him at the door—his usually composed face strained, hands clenched behind his back.
"Rofland?" Steve asked, stepping closer. "Where are mother and father?"
The old butler looked away, his voice low. "There... was an incident. Their carriage... didn't return."
Steve didn't move.
"What are you saying?"
"They... were attacked. Their bodies were found this morning."
The world fell away.
No sound. No breath. No tears.
Just silence.
---
Steve didn't cry that night.
He sat in the same chair in the library where he once laughed with Lealaine. The sunlight was gone now. Only the faint glow of lanterns lit the shelves. His parents' laughter echoed in his mind—his father's booming voice, his mother's soft scolding.
Gone.
Just like that.
Lealaine visited that night, silently slipping into the room. She didn't speak. Just sat beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder, fingers quietly wrapping around his hand.
Steve still didn't cry.
If tears could measure love, then the world should have drowned that night. But he had none left to give.
---
A week later, she came with a suggestion.
"Let's go to the forest. Just a small subjugation mission... to get your mind off things."
Steve hesitated, but when she smiled—that same warm, innocent smile—he couldn't say no.
"Alright," he nodded. "Let's go."
Lealaine's younger sibling and a few other close friends joined them. It wasn't far—just a border zone near the Forest of Death, an area they'd always avoided before. Steve was wary, but Rofland assured him enough guards would be nearby if anything went wrong.
"We'll be careful," Steve promised.
He didn't know, then.
He didn't know it would be the last time he ever trusted that smile.