Most small villages like this—unknown, overlooked, and lacking the strength to defend themselves—had learned to make smart use of the world's most terrifying deterrent.
They would distribute Black Dragon scales evenly around the settlement. That alone was often enough to keep wandering monsters at bay.
Some villages that didn't have scales would even pool their money under the village chief's direction to purchase them together. To the villagers, it was entirely reasonable—no one wanted their home to become a tragedy.
Xien glanced at his teacher beside him. Alfia didn't pay the scales any special attention at all.
She seemed to catch Xien's little movements and immediately understood what he was thinking.
"Sure, that thing was strong. And sure, we lost," she said calmly. "But it's not enough to leave me with trauma."
"They're just scales. To me, they're no different from any other trophy."
"…Using them to protect people isn't a bad thing."
Xien understood.
This was the mindset of a true powerhouse.
Not everyone could face death head-on.
Xien had trained so relentlessly partly because fear drove him—after the assassination attempt, he never wanted to experience that helplessness again.
Yet Alfia, even after facing absolute despair, could still gather herself and move forward.
That was something worth respecting—beyond raw strength.
The village felt as if it were cut off from the world.
The quiet seeped into his bones, soothing his mind without him noticing.
Birdsong drifted through the air. Floral scents followed the breeze.
Before long, they arrived at a small bamboo grove—within it, a simple cottage.
Alfia stepped forward and knocked.
A moment later, the door opened. An elderly woman in plain clothes appeared.
When she saw Alfia's face, she froze—then her wrinkled features softened into a smile.
"I thought you wouldn't come," she murmured, voice rough with age. "Good. Good… Come in."
She stepped aside, and Alfia and Xien entered.
Only then did the old woman notice Xien behind Alfia. She looked him over, puzzled.
It was rare for Alfia to bring a "kid" along.
"And this one is…?"
"My newly accepted disciple," Alfia answered simply.
"I see." The old woman's mouth curled up. "I thought he was your child."
The air changed.
Alfia stopped mid-step.
Her aura snapped outward like a blade.
Pressure flooded the room.
Behind her, Xien broke out in cold sweat.
Unbelievable. Someone actually said that to Alfia's face.
"Master Yezi," Alfia said, voice gentle and lethal at the same time, "I appreciate that you've protected Metaria for so long."
"But if you can't control that mouth of yours, don't blame me for helping you leave this world a couple of days early."
The old woman visibly flinched and instantly changed the subject—regretting her slip the moment it left her lips.
When she was young, that sharp tongue had caused her endless trouble. It was part of why she'd ended up hiding in a quiet village like this.
She also hadn't expected Alfia to be this terrifying.
The last time Alfia came, the old woman hadn't felt anything like this.
"Ahem… Right." She waved them onward, hurrying. "Come. Her time is almost up."
Alfia's expression tightened. "What do you mean? Your letter said there was still time."
"Something went wrong during childbirth," the old woman replied. "The fact she's held on this long is already a miracle."
She pushed open an inner door.
The room beyond was painfully simple: a bed, a table, a vase of flowers.
On the bed lay a patient.
And beside the bed sat a man—watching over her without leaving her side.
The patient was beautiful.
She resembled Alfia by seven or eight parts—white hair, delicate features—
But her body was frighteningly thin, as if skin clung to bone. Her eyes were shut. A faint, constant pain sat in the crease of her brow.
Even someone who knew nothing about medicine would look at her and think:
She doesn't have long.
The man turned toward the newcomers in surprise.
"Metaria!"
In front of her closest family, the proud queen shed everything.
Alfia moved straight to her sister, as if the man didn't even exist.
The man seemed used to it. He quietly stepped out of the room.
He understood one thing perfectly:
If he did anything wrong right now, he might not survive the day.
The old woman merely guided them in and withdrew.
Soon, only three remained.
As if she'd heard the call of someone she loved, the girl on the bed slowly opened her eyes.
When she saw Alfia, she managed a weak smile.
"Big sister… you came…"
"I'm here."
Metaria's smile trembled.
"I'm sorry… I think I'm going to break my promise."
"I might… have to go first. Just for a little while."
Even now, she didn't want her death to crush her sister.
So she tried—clumsily, gently—to soften it.
"Before that…"
"Can you… hold my hand one more time?"
She tried to lift her arm—thin as a dead branch—
And failed. She didn't have the strength.
Anyone would feel grief at the sight.
At this moment, power, wealth, status—none of it mattered.
Only this.
Alfia's voice stayed steady, but there was a tremor buried deep in it.
"Of course."
"But wait a moment."
"Later… we'll go for a walk together."
"…?"
Metaria blinked, stunned.
A walk? Outside?
With her body like this, that was an impossible dream.
Then Alfia turned her head and spoke—firm, undeniable.
"Xien. Please."
Metaria's gaze drifted to the boy who had entered with her sister.
Who is he…?
Xien stepped forward.
"No hesitation," no theatrics.
"By your command, Teacher."
He took Metaria's hand.
The moment he felt her pulse—if it could even be called that—his heart sank.
By all logic, she shouldn't be alive.
Her organs were nearly inactive. Her state was almost indistinguishable from death.
Then he lifted his eyes—
And saw a faint light inside hers.
A stubborn spark.
So that's it.
This was—
Will.
Then he moved.
One Thought: God and Demon—activated.
Metaria, still confused, tried to ask what he was doing—
And then warmth flooded into her.
A warmth so gentle it felt unreal.
Xien spoke, voice low and resonant, as if reciting a vow.
"Let the song of life be sung here."
"Gentle one—your hope should not end here."
"Now, by the principle of abundance… I will continue your road ahead."
Life-force circulated.
In the real world, it manifested as phenomenon—
A vast emerald cocoon wrapped around Metaria's body.
"At this moment, the First Cause of life—
Why we exist—
Finds its reason here."
His gaze did not waver.
"And the answer…"
"…is love."
"Because of love…"
"…we exist."
Yes.
He had seen it in her eyes—
Her love for her family.
That refusal to let go.
That devotion, so quiet yet so absolute, had held her together until now.
If that was what she offered to the world—
Then he would answer it with everything he had.
Miracle surged again.
Under the bearer's wish, it became the ultimate engine of rescue.
Seconds passed.
The light cocoon cracked.
Then shattered like a shell.
And the girl inside—
Returned to the age she should have been.
The name Metaria regained its rightful form.
In that instant, she was granted a second life.
Behind Xien, Alfia watched the scene—
and at some point, her heterochromatic eyes had opened fully.
She stared at him as if he were a god walking in mortal skin, and something unshakable settled into her heart.
"Then…" she whispered, vow-like,
"May everything I have… be with you."
"I will remain at your side…"
"Forever."
Fate of an important figure rewritten. Interference Points +5000
Xien's eyebrow twitched.
…Huh? This whole family is stacked? Even this 'frail' girl is worth 5000? Just who exactly is she?
Half an hour later
Two breathtaking white-haired girls ran through flower fields at the edge of the village.
At this moment, they weren't "the strongest" and "the dying."
They were simply sisters—close as blood could be—finally living the happiness they should have had long ago.
"It really feels like a dream," Metaria said, laughter trembling with disbelief.
"Big sister… how long has it been since we played like this?"
They fell onto the soft grass, leaning against each other.
Their smiles refused to hide.
The invisible wall between them—years of distance, guilt, fear—
Had quietly dissolved.
Now it was heart to heart again.
Only joy remained.
Alfia looked at her sister's face—bright, alive—and exhaled.
"…Maybe more than ten years," she admitted.
"If I think about it… I don't think I ever truly stayed with you."
Watching Metaria like this, Alfia finally understood why everyone had loved her.
Metaria carried gentleness and strength in a way that didn't seem possible.
Looking at her life was like watching the greatest kind of adventure—
The kind that didn't need swords to be heroic.
How ridiculous.
Alfia had always thought Metaria was weak—
Without realizing her will was stronger than most.
"Eh?"
Metaria's eyes suddenly turned mischievous.
"What is it?" Alfia asked, wary.
Metaria leaned in, eyes sparkling.
"Are you really Alfia… Big Sister?"
"…Or is someone pretending to be you?"
Alfia's forehead vein twitched.
Her hand curled into a fist.
If Metaria didn't provide a satisfying explanation, she was about to be reminded—physically—why Alfia was the elder sister.
"Metaria."
"You—"
"Hahaha!" Metaria immediately surrendered, waving both hands. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"
"It's just…"
"You've changed so much."
"And I'm happy."
"So… you'll forgive your cute little sister, right?"
Alfia stared at her.
Then—helplessly—she sighed.
"…You really haven't changed at all."
Metaria beamed. "Because I'm still your adorable little sister."
And that was exactly why Alfia always lost.
No matter how unstoppable she was in battle—
This was her natural enemy.
After a moment, Alfia shifted topics like someone saving herself.
"Where's that kid of yours?" she asked.
"I haven't seen him."
"That idiot didn't mess up even something as simple as watching over you, did he?"
Metaria's expression softened into memory.
"When I sensed I didn't have much time left…"
"We decided to send Bell somewhere safer."
Even saying it aloud made her chest tighten.
No mother wanted to send away a child who had only just been born.
She had cried for a long, long time before agreeing.
Alfia's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Safe?"
"He was only a few years old, wasn't he? I remember the beginning was… pretty bad."
Metaria smiled—soft, proud.
"That child is strong."
"And of course…"
"It also helps that he has his mother's love."
She said it lightly, teasing, trying to make her sister smile.
It worked—almost.
Then Metaria grew quiet again.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"Big sister…"
"I had already… decided to accept my death."
Her fingers brushed a flower gently, as if confirming it was real.
A moment like this—
Sitting in a field, talking with her sister—
Had been something she never dared to imagine.
"It's like a dream."
Alfia's gaze drifted, heavy with feeling.
"…For me too."
"The moment that boy appeared…"
"It was like…"
"…a miracle."
Metaria's smile faded, replaced by seriousness.
"So…"
"You must have paid an enormous price."
"For me."
Her weak body had not made her foolish.
Metaria understood that miracles always demanded something.
Especially one that even the gods couldn't perform.
She was astonished by Xien's power—
But what she cared about more was what Alfia had done to secure it.
If her sister had relied on force, coercion, deception—
Metaria would not ignore it.
She turned to Alfia with a gaze sharper than her frail appearance suggested.
Alfia's scalp tingled.
A single bead of sweat formed at her temple.
They were sisters.
She knew exactly what Metaria was thinking.
So she answered plainly, almost lazily.
"Sorry."
"Your clever little head guessed wrong this time."
"I didn't do anything."
Metaria blinked. "That can't be true."
"He called you 'Teacher.'"
Alfia's eyes flickered.
"…I know."
"It's strange."
"But that's how it was."
"He asked for nothing."
"He was like a compassionate angel scattering mercy."
"When I requested help, he only smiled…"
"…and gave me a clear yes."
"And then he did it."
Her gaze shifted toward the cottage in the distance, as if she could see the boy through the walls.
"As for why he calls me 'Teacher'…"
Alfia's voice lowered slightly.
"That's because I shamelessly demanded a connection with him."
Metaria went still.
Then, softly:
"…Then we owe him far too much."
Alfia didn't deny it.
She simply closed her eyes for a moment—feeling the weight of gratitude settle into something more serious than words.
"Yes," she said.
"We do."
....
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