“Silver-white petals?”
The Drunkard furrowed his brow in thought.
After a moment, he shook his head. “None that I recall,” he admitted. “But it’s possible we simply weren’t aware.”
This reply caused Bruul to lose himself in thought for a moment, solidifying his suspicion about the Silverbloom Sword Princess.
Noticing his odd demeanor, One-Eyed Wolf clapped him on the shoulder, a hint of confusion in his voice. “What’s wrong, Bruul? Did that Fourth-tier beast scare you witless? You seem utterly dazed since you got back.”
“Don’t even mention it,” the Drunkard chimed in. “If I’d encountered a Fourth-tier beast, I’d probably be in the same state as Bruul right now.”
One-Eyed Wolf shook his shoulders twice. Seeing Bruul remain silent, he couldn’t help but connect the dots, starting with the silver-white petals.
Considering Bruul’s past behavior, One-Eyed Wolf’s lips twitched in exasperation. “Bruul,” he asked, “you don’t actually think the senior who saved you was the Silverbloom Sword Princess, do you?”
His words struck a chord deep within Bruul. He looked up, responding with earnest conviction.
“I think… it’s a bit similar.”
One-Eyed Wolf sighed, patting Bruul’s shoulder once more. His voice was heavy with meaning.
“I know you grew up hearing the legends of the Silverbloom Sword Princess, Bruul,” he began. “But the senior you spoke of, at most, she’s a Sixth-tier hero from another city. How could she possibly be the Silverbloom Sword Princess?”
“The Silverbloom Sword Princess was defeated in the Demon Lord’s City ages ago. It’s time to find a new idol, don’t you think? Why are you still fixated on her after all these years? Why not look at the heroes who’ve risen to fame recently?”
After taking a few sips of his drink, One-Eyed Wolf’s face lit up with fervent admiration.
“Take the heroes from cities near our Vidona, for instance. That hero, titled Skyfire, is incredibly powerful! I heard she escaped unscathed from an encirclement by four Seventh-tier beasts and was even summoned by the Heroes’ Council. Her strength is truly extraordinary!”
Upon hearing about Skyfire, the Drunkard also grew excited. Gossiping about famous heroes close to home was one of their favorite pastimes.
“I know!” he exclaimed. “They say some even compare her to Chiling, the hero from over a decade ago. Both are flame-wielding heroes, but Skyfire is clearly superior.”
“Indeed,” One-Eyed Wolf agreed. “And Skyfire is still so young. Who knows, she might even become a council member in the future, bringing honor to our region.”
As they began discussing Skyfire, Bruul rose to his feet, bidding them farewell.
“My apologies, but I have matters to attend to. I’ll take my leave now.”
He couldn’t bear to listen any longer.
Chiling gradually faded from public view over a decade ago, and since then, hardly anyone has heard anything about her.
Yet, she was the Silverbloom Sword Princess’s comrade. How could she be inferior to a newly risen hero?
They were heroes who dared to infiltrate the Demon Lord’s City! To hear them now dismissed as inferior to recent heroes, Bruul found himself at a loss for words.
He pushed open the tavern door. Before he could even step out, he heard the Drunkard’s voice echo from behind him, calling out from afar.
“Bruul! The Silverbloom Sword Princess is dead. Stop dwelling on her!”
He offered no reply. Instead, he slammed the door shut and walked straight out.
****
The sunlight outside the tavern was rather dazzling. The bustling street was filled with people, and a black-leather carriage momentarily obstructed his view.
A message buzzed in his communicator. Just as he reached to retrieve it, the black carriage slowly pulled away, revealing the hero depicted on a poster in the shop across the street.
It was a young hero with ink-blue hair, her expression aloof. Behind her, a shattered sky met an endless sea of flames, where all the demonic beasts had been reduced to ash.
This was Skyfire, the hero One-Eyed Wolf had spoken of, renowned in recent years.
For a fleeting moment, Bruul wondered if they were right.
Posters of old always featured the Silverbloom, gentle and beautiful, guiding countless people forward like a beacon of light. Now, however, not a single petal of the Silverbloom could be seen.
Perhaps only in the forgotten alleys of ancient times might one still find a discarded poster or two depicting the Silverbloom.
Times were constantly changing, and the heroes of yesteryear would not return. Perhaps he truly shouldn’t dwell in the past any longer, for the legend that had accompanied his childhood had now vanished without a trace.
Flowers wither and fade with time; the Silverbloom was no exception.
After a long moment of reflection, Bruul finally shifted his gaze from the poster and retrieved the communicator from his pocket.
A glance at the message revealed that Vidona’s governor was looking for him.
He wasn’t particularly surprised. As a city frequently plagued by beast tides, even the slightest disturbance in the Gloomwood Forest would alarm Vidona’s high-ranking officials.
Moreover, with a Fourth-tier beast appearing on the forest’s outskirts, such a situation would undoubtedly leave these officials restless.
Thus, the governor’s reason for summoning him was simply to have him, as an eyewitness, explain the situation within the forest.
With one last look at the poster depicting Skyfire, he sighed and headed towards Vidona’s administrative hall.
****
As evening drew near, the Witch’s Flower Shop closed for the day.
The other shop assistants had long since gone home. Only Alisa remained, meticulously cleaning the shop before locking the doors and windows, finally leaving the flower shop with a sense of peace.
She lived in Vidona’s commoner district, in a house that was rather ordinary compared to those of her neighbors.
Opening the door, she shed her coat and set down her handbag. From the kitchen, a middle-aged woman with a wrinkled face emerged, gazing at her with a radiant smile.
“Mom,” Alisa greeted. The middle-aged woman smiled, acknowledging her with a soft hum.
This was the mother who had raised her single-handedly. Others referred to her as Mrs. Josephine, though Alisa was almost certainly the only one who knew her true name.
Josephine was her father. However, he had tragically lost his life during a beast tide when Alisa was nine years old. Her mother, too, had been gravely wounded in that same beast tide. Though her injuries improved with treatment, they left her with permanent ailments.
Looking at the wrinkles around her mother’s eyes and her dull, salt-and-pepper hair, Alisa couldn’t hide her sorrow.
After her father’s death, her mother had raised her alone. The toll of hard work combined with her lingering injuries had significantly accelerated her aging.
Both her mother and father had hoped their daughter would possess magical abilities from a young age. Thus, upon learning that Alisa had no magic, they had inevitably shown their disappointment.
Alisa had initially resented them for this. However, after that beast tide, her perspective had completely changed.
“Daughter, tomorrow is your birthday,” Mrs. Josephine said. “Take this money to buy a birthday cake, host a small party, and invite your friends.”
Mrs. Josephine took a purse from her pocket and extended it to Alisa. The pleasant jingle of silver coins within suggested a considerable sum.
However, Alisa did not take it.
“Mom,” Alisa replied, “I’ve been working for years now. I don’t need you to give me money anymore.”
She was no longer the young girl she once was. After her father’s death, she had frequently taken on part-time jobs to help with household expenses, eventually becoming a shop assistant at the Witch’s Flower Shop and achieving true financial independence.