Chapter 65: Through Letters Exchanged, Another Winter Falls

Alan,

How have you been lately?

In the blink of an eye, it has been nearly a year and a half since we last parted ways. I wonder if you’ve grown taller by now? Whenever I asked before, you always insisted you were one hundred and sixty centimeters, which is complete nonsense. Rudy mentioned in his letter that you’ve already grown nearly half a head taller than last year...

Moreover, he brought up that you told him your facial features have become remarkably soft, and you can even tie your hair into a braid at the back of your head. Just reading about it in words, I can't quite picture it.

I'm so curious.

Picking up from our previous topic.

After wandering and adventuring through labyrinths repeatedly, I suppose because I always cleared them by myself, I somehow managed to make a bit of a name for myself. To my surprise, I received an invitation from the royal family of the Kingdom of Sharia, wishing to hire me as His Highness the Prince's private tutor.

To be honest, I'm quite tempted.

And before I entered the labyrinth last time, following your suggestion, I carefully discussed ways to enhance magic power with Rudy. Sure enough... he truly is a genius. He brought up perspectives that hadn't even crossed my mind. You... you guys really helped me out a lot.

According to what he wrote in his letter, Sylphy’s magic proficiency has now officially advanced to the intermediate level. Her hair has also grown down to her shoulders, and she has matured a great deal. She speaks much less, but she still seems to like sticking close to you wherever you go.

Though Rudy’s tone was rather dismissive, I imagine seeing that scene in person would be quite amusing... Hehe... I must say, Alan is still as popular with girls as ever...

I heard from Rudy that Sylphy once asked you if you wanted to grow your hair into braided pigtails like mine, only for you to flat out reject her, muttering some strange nonsense about how white hair should be shoulder-length...

Do you prefer shoulder-length hair, Alan? And what is white hair? White hair, literally? But Sylphy's hair is green, you know...

Ah... I've drifted off course. Anyway, pass my congratulations on to Sylphy. After all, if three people send letters from the same location, the postage triples! Once I take up the post and my income stabilizes, I'll send her letters more often.

Speaking of the Kingdom of Sharia, it is a country with rather peculiar customs. Some people even ride elephants and wrap turbans around their heads... I couldn't find a suitable gift to send you this time, but... a few months ago, while wandering around the capital, I discovered something lovely.

—In the river of the royal capital, there are many gorgeous pink flowers. Unlike the ones we usually see growing out of the soil, these are actually supported directly in the water by green, disc-shaped leaves. Their petals are long and narrow, and when fully blooming, they are delightfully charming. In Sharia, they are hailed as the national flower...

Well, the truth is, I had no idea what to send you along the way this time, and I racked my brain until I was completely out of ideas...

And then just now, I... suddenly found this petal that I've been using as a bookmark quite lovely... So you might as well just accept it. I have no idea if you'll like it...

Mmh... Whenever I write letters, I seem to have this bad habit. There are so many things I want to say, but once the pen touches the paper, I don't know what to write anymore, which always makes the letters end up so terribly brief.

......

When we meet next time,

when will that be?

If you reply, please send one letter to the Adventurers' Guild and another to the Sharia royal court, just in case I miss your letter.

—Roxy.

Oh right! Don't keep calling me Mama Blue!! What kind of nickname is that! Am I really that old?

And you always keep saying it's an affectionate term...

Do you think I'll be happy just because you make excuses like that...

It's completely baffling...

---

The Buena Village, Fitoa Territory, Northern Asura Kingdom, separated from the Kingdom of Sharia by the Red Dragon Mountain Range.

To the wind and snow, a year's time seems to be nothing more than a passing guest.

A year ago, when Alan read his letters here, they were swirling outside the window.

This year, it remains exactly the same.

Because the fireplace in the knight's residence in the village was well-tended, the room was not overly cold.

Alan lowered the letter in his hand, moving his gaze away from the somewhat messy handwriting of the last three sentences. He couldn't help smiling, a picture of Roxy's flustered expression flashing through his mind.

'The original text says demons aren't very bright, but Roxy's mind clearly seems exceptionally sharp.'

'That must be a fallacy.'

He turned his head to look at the snow outside the window.

'Another year has passed. Time really flies.'

Time had left distinct marks on his rapidly developing body. The somewhat naive yet sharply defined facial features he had a year ago had changed quite a bit now. Even just sitting in the chair, one could tell he had grown significantly taller than last year.

His hair had grown out, tied into a small, short braid at the back of his head. The bangs across his forehead had been trimmed, curling slightly as they rested over his brows and eyes. His eyebrows had been neatly groomed to look much softer. Influenced by the laughter and warmth of the Greyrat household over the past year, his gaze no longer carried its sharp edge; instead, his eyes were curved into gentle slants, making him look completely harmless to humans and animals alike.

The rimless glasses still rested on the bridge of his nose, lending a scholarly aura to his demeanor.

Alan raised his hand to pick up the so-called "national flower of Sharia" that lay beside the letter, holding it up to examine it closely.

It was a lotus petal.

There was no equivalent synonym for it in this world.

It seemed that because Roxy had kept it pressed inside a book for a long time, it had become a dried flower specimen. The texture of the petal was preserved remarkably well, without a single tear caused by dryness.

Alan extended his index finger to gently touch the edge of the petal, then carefully placed it beside the "figurine" of Roxy.

He folded the letter neatly, put it back into the envelope, and opened his drawer.

Inside the drawer was a neat stack of letters. In an open wooden box beside them lay glowing monster fangs, exquisitely carved magic stone decorations, braided cord meant for wrapping sword hilts—bearing a somewhat exotic style...

And a wooden doll of a male carved with a hideous expression, vaguely recognizable as a wild-haired man with slicked-back hair.

Even though Alan had looked at this wooden doll hundreds of times in the days since receiving it, seeing it again now still broke his composure entirely.

'What on earth is this carved to look like... Why didn't she ask Rudy to teach her how to make one using clay magic? Mama Blue remains a total muggle as always. Thinking her mind is sharp was definitely an illusion after all...'

It was worth mentioning that ever since Roxy sent a birthday gift for the first time, and Alan returned the favor with Patils flower seed powder, the two of them had inexplicably and naturally maintained a tradition of exchanging gifts in their subsequent correspondence.

Alan shook his head and pulled a blank sheet of stationery from the drawer.

This action pulled out a fallen leaf tucked between the sheets of paper, which served as a divider between the old and new letters.

It was a smooth, broad leaf, as if it had fallen from some evergreen tree species, turned yellow, and crafted into an exquisite bookmark.

Alan reached out and carefully pinched the leaf bookmark between two fingers, lowering his gaze to the very bottom of the leaf.

Three words were written there, in delicate, small, and neat handwriting, penned with such care that the veins of the leaf were completely undamaged.

"To Alan."

Looking at the handwriting, the corners of Alan's lips curved upward.

---

He glanced swiftly at the wind and snow outside the window, then picked up his pen and wrote.

---

Dearest Mama Blue,

By the time you read this letter, it will probably be about a month later than usual, as always.

At this point, you must surely be working as a private tutor in the Kingdom of Sharia. After all, the pay they are offering is simply too generous. Knowing you, I'm sure you deliberated and still chose to follow the call of your heart.

How very typical of you.

It's worth mentioning that I once heard adventurers from the south say that the princes of the Kingdom of Sharia all have various bad habits, but... perhaps due to a pampered upbringing of luxury and idleness, maybe they aren't entirely bad people? You shouldn't always compare other people's magical talent to Rudy's, you know. It's an easy way to crush someone's self-confidence.

Of course, that's just advice regarding the professional ethics of a private tutor. As for the prince's character...

I have no way of knowing.

Should he do anything out of line, like sexual harassment or the like, please cast Flame Circle on him at light speed, and make sure not to show any mercy.

Regarding Sylphy's hair...

When you see her again in the future, you'll probably understand. An elf like Sylphy is actually much better suited for shoulder-length, semi-long hair; exposing her ears gives her a more spirited look. Much like how you look more charming—(crossed out)—proper and pretty with your braided pigtails.

So you see, everyone has a hairstyle that suits them best.

As for the white hair, it was probably because the sunlight was just too nice that day, casting a reflection on her hair, so it just slipped out...

What is meant by being "as popular with girls as ever"? Were there a lot of girls around when you and I spent time together?

Or perhaps, you were referring to Sylphy? Could you possibly be under some strange misconception?? Just how old is Sylphy anyway...

Speaking of the flower you sent me, I was fortunate enough to have once seen it in a book at the royal capital's museum. According to the text, even though its leaves support the flower while "resting" in the river, it truly grows out of the mud.

If you don't believe me, next time you can check the mud beneath the leaves; its rhizome should be right in there.

Oh right, even though that rhizome looks very dirty, it's actually white once you wash it. There are holes right through the middle, and if you slice it open, you can eat it.

It might not have much flavor and might not quite suit your palate, but I suggest eating it after soaking it in sugar water; it should be quite refreshing.

Uh... these are all things I read in books, but you can test whether it's edible. I'm sure you aren't afraid of poisoning, seeing as you previously had me send you plenty of Patils flower seed powder anyway.

As for gifts... I'm just as clueless as you are...

---

Alan paused his pen here, though despite writing about being clueless, there was not a trace of troubled expression on his face.

He picked up the stationery with his left hand and suddenly reached out to open the window.

The wind and snow raged outside, and in an instant, a flurry of snowflakes poured in.

Alan braced against the wind to slam the window shut, waving his arm to scatter the drifting snowflakes. At the same time, he extended the index finger of his right hand and poked the air.

He wasn't poking empty air.

It was a crystal-clear, six-petaled white flower the size of a fingernail, its trajectory altered by Alan's style secret art. In his slow-motion-like perception, the petal drifted down leisurely and slowly...

Drifting down...

And then it landed on the paper. At that instant, the stationery trembled in Alan's hand, catching the largest snowflake in the flurry head-on, exactly one finger-width below the unfinished handwriting.

The paper was soaked, then dried again.

The flower vanished.

But its "trace" remained on the stationery.

In a world of swords and magic, the paper was quite rough, and thanks to that, the water stain stood out all the more clearly.

It was a petal crease resembling a seal stamp.

Alan smiled, laid the stationery flat on the desk, and continued writing.

---

You sent me a petal, so I'll send you a flower as well.

It's a snowflake from Buena Village.

Additionally, I really like the Evil God figurine you carved.

Please don't carve any more next time.

As for when we'll meet again.

...

Perhaps under a building on some summer midnight? Or perhaps in the woods during another spring?

But one thing is certain: we will meet again when a reunion is needed. There's no need to feel anxious, just wait.

This feeling, I call it...

'Expectation'.

—Alan.

Oh right, there's no way I'm stopping the "Mama Blue" thing. Like I said, it's an "affectionate term," completely unrelated to age.

Don't you think calling me that makes us feel very close?

---

With a smile curving his lips, Alan paused for two seconds to let the ink dry, folded the letter, placed it inside the envelope, and slid it into the drawer beside him. As he did, he brushed against a crumpled piece of stationery in the corner of the drawer.

It looked as though it had been repeatedly crushed into a ball and then smoothed out again.

The smile froze on his face, and with a somewhat inexplicable expression, he pulled that sheet of paper out of the drawer.

Unfolding it.

Dense, repetitive handwriting, clustered together in bunches like buzzing flies all over the page.

If one looked closely, it was just three words being pieced together and reorganized over and over again.

「Future Vision.」

Beneath the handwriting, the three lines written a year ago had already been completely obscured.

Alan lowered his gaze to the words, remaining silent.

---

"Wah~ wah~"

Crying children echoed from outside the room, accompanied by the faint, flustered sounds of conversation.

"Oh my, why does Norn cry so easily? She can't bear to be apart from anyone for even a second... I remember Rudy was so easy to take care of back then... Is it really because Rudy was just too sensible?"

That was Zenith's voice, utterly helpless in the face of Norn bursting into loud tears every now and then.

"No way, Mother. Look! Luai~~~"

"Wah... Heh... Hehe..."

"See, Norn stopped crying!"

That was Rudy's voice. Whenever Norn cried, he would usually make funny faces like this to comfort her, and Norn always fell for it completely.

"Master Rudy is indeed very sensible... He was like that as a child, and he's like that now too."

That was Lilia's voice, carrying a trace of helplessness in her tone. She had a very clear understanding of Rudy's precociousness in his childhood.

"Wah!!"

A piercing cry belonged to Aisha.

These noises pulled Alan out of his emotional state. He casually crumpled the paper into a ball again, tossed it deep into the drawer, stood up, and went out the door to go downstairs.

Downstairs, Zenith, who had visibly gained some weight after her pregnancy, was holding Norn, preparing to nurse her. She smiled at Alan as he came down.

As for Lilia and Rudy, who had originally intended to coax Aisha, upon seeing Alan appear, they unexpectedly stopped paying attention to Aisha altogether. Instead, they both nodded in greeting to Alan before turning back to attend to Zenith.

Amidst the crying, Alan walked over to the stroller.

Aisha, with her red hair, was crying in the stroller. Seeing Alan approach, she immediately stopped crying and stared at him with bright, sparkling eyes.

Seeing this, Alan couldn't help but find it amusing.

Aisha had been mischievous and quirky ever since she was an infant. He hadn't realized it at first, until he noticed time and time again that this little girl always happened to start crying right after Norn did. That was when he felt something was amiss.

He instantly realized that Aisha was doing it on purpose.

She wasn't crying because she was uncomfortable or anything, but rather because of...

An instinctive, "gregarious" choice.

Norn was crying, so as a companion, she would cry too. Besides, doing this would attract the adults' attention.

From this perspective, calling her merely mischievous and quirky wasn't quite accurate. One could only say Aisha was exceptionally clever by nature, or rather... her heavy inward thoughts were ingrained in her instinct. Reading the room and making the response best suited to the current situation was a "talent" she possessed from birth.

Alan locked eyes with Aisha, squinting and smiling. He leaned over the stroller, propped his chin in his hand, gently tapped Aisha's forehead with his finger, and spoke softly.

"What, are you bored?"

Aisha reached out to touch Alan's finger, her two little hands bobbing up and down.

Alan shook his head, picked up a spoon from beside the stroller, and manipulated it with his style secret art to make it flip and dance in the palm of his hand.

Aisha's chubby little face immediately broke into a smile. Her crystal-clear, marble-like eyes darted back and forth between the spoon and Alan's face, looking thoroughly delighted.

After playing with the spoon for a while, Alan put it away and stroked Aisha's head.

"Be a good girl~ Aisha has been clever since she was little~ If you have any needs when you grow up, you have to say them out loud, and don't keep them bottled up inside to digest on your own~ That's not a good habit~"

Aisha was only a few months old, and her short red hair had only grown to about the length of a single knuckle. She couldn't understand Alan's words; she simply held his finger and let out a babyish, up-and-down babbling giggle.

In the middle of changing Norn's diaper, Lilia glanced sideways at this scene, her expression exceedingly gentle.

Outside the window, the snow was still falling, scattering the faint conversation drifting from inside the house.

"...Uncle... Ever since Uncle Roulz called him out, it's been several days... Hasn't he come back yet..."

📦"Not yet... I heard... the forest... monsters... rampaging..."

---

Night fell.

The royal capital of Sharia, a certain inn.

Roxy gazed through the window at the moonlight outside, her eyes half-closed and looking somewhat lazy.

On the table beside her lay many lotus petals crafted into bookmarks. Most of them had various flaws, and not a single one was completely intact.

Roxy rubbed her sore eyes and, with a helpless sigh, tucked all the petals into her current book as a placeholder before closing it.

"Time for bed..."

"These bookmarks turned out to be failures... I originally wanted to gather enough for a whole flower... yet after a few months, I only ended up with a single perfect bookmark... I wonder if Alan will like it..."

"Am I really just a klutz after all..."

She blew out the candle on the desk, took off her mage robe, and lay down on the bed.

Then she felt under her pillow for something and took it into her hand. A moment later, the sound of steady breathing arose, and Roxy fell asleep.

Moonlight poured like water through the window, illuminating her hand.

In her palm was an exquisite wooden doll. Though not as delicately crafted as the ones Rudy made using clay magic, the expression on its face—one of flustered embarrassment with a hand over its mouth for making a mistake—was full of character.

Clutching the miniature version of herself, Roxy pursed her lips and drifted into dreams.

At this very moment.

It was the deep winter of the year 413 of the Dragon King Calendar.

Alan had just entered his eleventh year, Rudy had half a year left until his seventh birthday, and Sylphy had only two months left until her seventh.

...

Half a year remaining until the start of the tutoring period in the original storyline.

Only half a year left until the end of the childhood arc in the original storyline.