"...Yes. Who are you?"
Rick didn't hesitate as he asked the question, his voice firm the moment he opened the door.
The boy standing outside seemed slightly taken aback, as if he hadn't expected Rick to answer so directly. For a brief second, surprise flickered across his face before it settled into calm composure.
"My name is Lucifer," the boy said evenly. "And may I ask who you are… and what you are doing at Mr. Richard's house?"
As he spoke, his hand rested lightly on the hilt of a sword at his side—not aggressively, but cautiously, like someone always prepared.
Rick noticed.
Seeing the boy on guard, Rick raised a hand slightly, trying to ease the tension.
"Oh, don't worry. I'm someone close to him," he said, gesturing back inside. "Look, he's right there—preparing dinner."
Lucifer's posture relaxed, just a little.
"I see… I'm sorry about that," he said, lowering his guard.
Rick nodded once, his expression returning to seriousness.
"So… what do you want?" he asked plainly.
Lucifer hesitated for a moment before speaking again.
"Can you call Mr. Richard? I would like to speak with him."
Rick let out a small breath, already expecting that answer.
"Well… actually," he began, choosing his words carefully, "Richard is a bit busy right now—and tired too. We were just about to eat dinner together."
He paused, then added,
"If it's alright, could you come back tomorrow? Or… if it's something important, you can tell me now."
His gaze remained steady, unwavering.
For a moment, silence hung between them.
Lucifer seemed to think it over, his eyes lowering slightly as if weighing his options. Then, after a short pause, he nodded.
"No… it's alright. I will come back tomorrow."
Without another word, he turned and began to walk away into the dim light, his figure gradually fading into the quiet of the night.
Rick stood there for a moment longer, watching him go—something about the boy lingering in his thoughts.
Then he slowly closed the door.
A while later, Rick and Richard sat together at the table, sharing their meal.
The soft glow of the lamp filled the room with warmth, casting gentle shadows along the walls. The quiet sounds of plates, utensils, and chewing echoed faintly in the otherwise silent space.
For a time, neither of them spoke.
Then—
"So… who is he?" Rick finally asked, breaking the silence.
Richard glanced up slightly. "You mean Lucifer?"
"Yeah," Rick replied.
Richard took a slow bite before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Well… actually," he began, his voice quieter than before, "he belonged to a mercenary unit somewhere in the Empire. But… his entire unit was annihilated."
Rick's hand paused mid-motion.
"And he was the only one who survived," Richard continued. "It was Andrew who saved his life."
Rick's eyes widened slightly, a mix of shock and curiosity rising within him.
"After that," Richard went on, "Andrew took him in—trained him for months. Swordsmanship… mana control… everything. And eventually, he sent him here… to deliver a letter to me. Along with some gold coins."
Richard's voice trailed off as he finished.
For a while, Rick said nothing.
He simply sat there, absorbing everything he had just heard.
Richard, meanwhile, continued eating his soup.
"To him," Richard added after a pause, "Andrew is probably like a savior… or maybe even a father. The one who taught him how to fight."
Rick let out a small scoff, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
"Andrew? A father?" he said, almost amused. "You've got to be kidding me."
Richard shrugged lightly. "I'm only telling you what I think."
Rick shook his head, still half-smiling as he returned to his meal.
"So why does he keep coming here again and again?" he asked.
This time, Richard didn't answer immediately.
His gaze dropped to the surface of his soup, where his reflection shimmered faintly.
"Because…" he said slowly, "he wants something. Something related to Andrew… a memory of him."
Rick frowned slightly.
"And I refused to give it to him," Richard continued. "Because… it's the only thing I have left."
There was a quiet sadness in his voice now—subtle, but unmistakable.
Rick leaned back slightly, his expression turning into one of disbelief.
"Damn… both of you are insane," he muttered. "That kid… and you. Even I wouldn't want something like that."
Richard looked up at him, his expression sharpening just a little.
"Are you making fun of me?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.
Rick met his gaze without hesitation.
"Yes. I am."
For a brief second, silence hung between them.
Then—
Both of them burst into laughter.
The tension broke instantly, replaced by something warm and familiar.
After finishing their meal, Rick stood by the sink, washing the dishes while Richard remained seated at the table.
The soft sound of water filled the room.
"Rick," Richard called out, his voice low but clear.
"Yeah?" Rick replied, not turning around.
"I forgot to tell you… your room is ready."
Rick paused briefly, then nodded.
"Got it."
"It's on the second floor," Richard added.
"Okay," Rick said, drying his hands as he finished up.
After finishing the dishes, Rick wiped his hands dry and walked back toward Richard.
"By the way," he said, glancing at him, "Ema told me that Andrew left a letter for me."
Richard looked up immediately, as if he had just remembered something.
"Oh, yeah," he said. "It's in your room—the same one you're staying in. You'll find it in the closet, near the door."
Rick nodded, following the direction Richard pointed.
"Don't stay up too late," Richard added as he stood up.
"Yeah, yeah," Rick replied casually.
A short while later, Rick entered his room.
The space was quiet, dimly lit by the faint glow of the night filtering through the window. Just as Richard had said, he found the letter tucked away inside the closet.
He took it and sat down on the edge of his bed.
For a moment, he didn't open it.
Instead, he stared out the window, lost in thought—his mind wandering somewhere between the past and the present.
Then, finally, he exhaled softly…
…and opened the letter.
"By the time you are reading this, I am already far away—perhaps beyond this country… or even this continent."
Rick's eyes moved steadily across the page.
"I'm sorry that you won't know this beforehand. I wanted it to be a surprise… and I hope it worked."
A faint smile appeared on Rick's face.
"So yeah… I'm finally doing it, Rick. The dream Lily once had—the promise I made. I'm going to fulfill it."
Rick's grip on the letter tightened slightly.
"It might take years. You may not see me for a long time. But I'm going to travel—to every corner of the world—and see it through."
The words felt distant… yet deeply personal.
"And if… somehow, in the process, I end up dying—I am gona haunt you for life since you were the one who pushed me to actually do this."
Rick let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh.
"Still the same…" he murmured under his breath.
He continued reading.
"Anyway, I hope you're doing well. And the next time we meet… you better be stronger than me."
Rick's expression sharpened slightly.
"Because if you're not… it's going to be hell for you."
The faint smile returned—this time stronger.
"And with that… this is goodbye for now."
The room fell silent.
Rick slowly lowered the letter, staring at it for a long moment.
"…Idiot," he muttered softly, though there was no anger in his voice—only warmth.
He leaned back slightly, letting the weight of the words settle within him.
Outside, the night stretched endlessly.
And somewhere, far beyond his reach…
Andrew was already walking his own path.
After finishing the letter, Rick carefully folded it, a faint smile lingering on his face. He placed it beside him and leaned back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
His thoughts drifted—back to Andrew, to the promise, to the journey that had already begun somewhere far away.
And just like that…
The night came to an end.
The next morning arrived quietly.
After breakfast, Rick set out toward the guild, intending to meet a few old acquaintances. The streets felt familiar—almost unchanged—as he walked through them, occasionally nodding to passing residents who greeted him warmly.
After some time, he finally reached the guild hall.
The moment he stepped inside, something shifted.
People began to notice him.
At first, it was just a few glances. Then whispers. Then—
"Hey… isn't that our little 'Night Hound'?!"
The voice rang out with excitement.
In an instant, the room erupted.
A crowd gathered around Rick, bombarding him with questions, laughter, and loud greetings. Hands clapped his back, voices overlapped, and for a moment, he was completely overwhelmed.
But somehow—thanks to Ema stepping in—he managed to survive the chaos.
After a while, the noise settled into something more relaxed.
Rick stood among them, chatting, catching up, sharing small stories. The warmth of the place wrapped around him like it always had.
Then suddenly—
A man climbed onto a table and raised his voice.
"Everyone! Since our little Night Hound is back, we can't just let this pass!"
Cheers erupted immediately.
"So let's celebrate!"
The guild roared in agreement, voices echoing through the hall.
Rick couldn't help but smile.
Some things never change, he thought.
Before long, the entire hall transformed into a lively celebration.
Laughter filled the air. Some people argued loudly over drinks, others joked and even started playful scuffles. The atmosphere was chaotic—but alive.
Rick found himself seated at a table with Ema and a few others, talking about his life at the academy, sharing moments, laughing freely.
For a while…
Everything felt normal.
Then—
The door opened.
A subtle shift passed through the room, though most didn't notice.
But Rick did.
A familiar figure stepped inside.
Lucifer.
He walked straight toward Rick, his steps calm and deliberate, cutting through the noise as if it didn't exist.
When he finally stopped in front of him, his gaze fixed sharply onto Rick.
"So… your name is Rick, huh?"
His voice was calm—but there was something beneath it. Something cold.
Something that made it clear—
He didn't like him.
Hearing the voice from behind him, Rick slowly turned around.
There he was.
Lucifer.
Rick's eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of surprise flickering across his face.
"…How do you know my name?" he asked.
Lucifer met his gaze without hesitation.
"Well… Mr. Richard told me," he replied calmly. "When I asked him."
He paused for a moment, studying Rick carefully.
"But still…" Lucifer continued, his tone sharpening just a little, "after all these years with Andrew… to think you're still only at this level."
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"An Aura Master, huh?"
There was a quiet disappointment in his voice—almost as if he had expected more.
Rick didn't respond.
He simply stared at him, silent.
Lucifer let out a small breath.
"Well… you did save me some trouble," he added. "Here."
He extended his hand, holding out a letter.
"It's from Andrew."
Rick's expression shifted instantly.
Without another word, he took the letter.
And just like that—
Lucifer turned and walked away, leaving the guild as quietly as he had entered.
Rick watched him go for a moment, his grip tightening around the letter.
"He's… pretty weird," he muttered under his breath.
Ema, standing nearby, crossed her arms thoughtfully.
"Maybe," she said. "But he's not a bad person."
Rick glanced at her briefly.
"If you say so."
Without wasting another second, he opened the letter.
"If you are reading this, then it means Lucifer has reached you safely."
Rick's eyes scanned the words quickly.
"So, Rick… I have a favor to ask you."
His expression grew serious.
"I want you to take him in… and make Lucifer your knight."
Rick froze.
For a moment, he couldn't even process what he had just read.
But still—
He kept reading.
"I know you must have a lot of questions right now, so let me explain something."
Rick's grip on the paper tightened.
"He is… a monster. A talent even greater than Lily's."
Rick's eyes widened.
"When I first met him, he was barely at the level of external arts. But in just a few months… he reached the level of an Aura Master."
"…What?" Rick whispered under his breath.
It sounded impossible.
Absurd.
And yet…
Andrew wouldn't lie.
"I know it sounds unbelievable, but it's true."
Rick swallowed slowly.
"But the problem is… he is easily swayed."
Rick's expression hardened.
"He follows the person who saves him—blindly."
A faint tension crept into his chest.
"Even the mercenary group he was with… they weren't good people. They used him as bait countless times."
Rick's jaw tightened.
"And yet… he still followed them."
The words lingered heavily.
Rick slowly lowered the letter, his mind racing.
"And after I saved him, he chose to follow me—as if his life now belonged to mine. But the truth is, I don't believe a talent like his should be wasted in the shadow of an old man like me. So I ask you… no, I entrust you… make him your knight. And don't refuse."
Rick was becoming more confused as he was reading the letter.
"Because even the strongest in this world needs a sword to fight for what is right. And i believe he can be that sword—if you allow him to be."
And just like that, the letter ended
Rick's one hand was on his head like he git a big headache.
"What did the letter say?" Ema asked with a smile in his face.
Rick didn't respond.
He sat there, unmoving, the paper still in his grasp, his gaze distant and unfocused.
Ema watched him, but before she could ask again, Rick spoke—his voice low, serious.
"Hey… Ema," he said slowly, still not looking at her. "Do you happen to know where Lucifer lives?"
The question hung in the air, unexpected and heavy with implication.
And in that quiet moment, something shifted—like the turning of a page.
A new chapter had begun in Rick's life.