Upon reaching the Adventurer’s Guild, Celia sought out its president, Sharlene.
Sharlene’s makeup was meticulously applied, exuding a sense of maturity. She wore gold-rimmed glasses, their long chain elegantly draped behind her delicate ears.
Her noble dress further enhanced her presence, lending her an undeniable aura of refined ladylike grace.
“Are you certain you wish to withdraw from the team?” Sharlene inquired, adjusting her glasses after Celia stated her purpose.
“Yes.”
“Have you discussed this with your teammates?”
“Not yet. However, President, you are surely aware that as long as I remain, no senior adventurer is willing to act as our instructor.”
Sharlene’s brow furrowed deeply, and her fingers began a soft, rhythmic tap upon the table’s surface.
Celia’s family was, in fact, one of the Rossi Empire’s three most prominent financial noble houses. Should her family disapprove, no adventurer within the modest city of Vidona would dare to assume the role of her instructor.
Indeed, if her family were to become displeased, they could easily exert control over even her, the esteemed guild president, let alone these ordinary adventurers.
“I genuinely cannot comprehend why they are so resistant to your becoming an adventurer. Your aptitude is truly exceptional; with even a modicum of training, you are destined to become the most dazzling adventurer.”
Speaking of this matter, Sharlene felt a surge of indignation.
Individuals possessing magical power are categorized into ten distinct ranks. Celia’s inherent aptitude was, without question, the highest Sharlene had witnessed in a decade.
Should she persist, her power would very likely ascend to the eighth rank in the future.
That rank represented the current pinnacle of human capability. It was well-known that even the esteemed members of the Adventurer’s Council, which governed all adventurers, were merely of the eighth rank.
“Were it an ordinary noble, I might still be able to offer counsel, but Celia, your situation… Alas, if only there were a senior adventurer capable of withstanding the immense pressure exerted by your family.”
“Regrettably, this is merely a minor city…”
Sharlene felt a profound sense of helplessness.
Vidona was, ultimately, a small city. To speak of senior adventurers capable of resisting the immense pressure of financial nobles was ambitious; it would be noteworthy if even a fifth-rank adventurer chose to reside here.
Even Sharlene herself remained to serve as the Adventurer’s Guild president simply because she was born within its modest confines.
Propping her cheek with one hand, Sharlene’s thoughts drifted to a particular figure.
“If only the Silverbloom Sword Princess were present,” Sharlene mused. “With such a promising junior, she would undoubtedly adore her, much like she once guided me…”
She murmured to herself, lost in the depths of her own memories. Meanwhile, upon hearing the mention of the Silverbloom Sword Princess, Celia’s eyes subtly brightened.
“President, have you actually met the Silverbloom Sword Princess?”
“Indeed. That was more than two decades ago. At the time, I was merely an unremarkable adventurer.
It was by chance that I encountered the senior Silverbloom Sword Princess, whose renown echoed throughout the world.”
Sharlene idly twirled a strand of hair near her ear, her voice tinged with a blend of wistfulness and a hint of lingering resentment as she continued:
“She offered me a few casual pointers, even remarking that I possessed extraordinary talent and was destined to become a formidable adventurer in the future.
Reflecting on it now, I suspect she merely said that to spare my feelings at the time.”
“What extraordinary talent could I possibly possess, an adventurer unable to even break through the sixth rank?”
If she were ever to encounter the Silverbloom Sword Princess again, Sharlene vowed to demand a clear answer. Had the senior truly misjudged her, or was that statement nothing more than a gentle consolation?
Once her fleeting resentment dissipated, only a profound sense of regret lingered within Sharlene’s heart.
This answer, she realized, might forever remain beyond her grasp.
“Senior Silverbloom truly is very gentle,” Celia murmured.
Celia placed a delicate hand upon her chest, her face alight with an expression of profound admiration and yearning.
She harbored a particular fondness for tales concerning the Silverbloom Sword Princess, especially those recounted by individuals who had personally encountered her.
Tearing herself away from her melancholic reflections, Sharlene pulled open a drawer in her desk, retrieved a contract, and extended it towards Celia.
“Once you sign this, your withdrawal from the team will be official.”
Celia accepted the contract, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she appended her signature to the document.
Witnessing her signature, Sharlene’s eyes filled with a deep sense of regret.
Having let a genius of such remarkable aptitude slip away, she pondered whether she would ever encounter another during her entire tenure as president.
With her signature affixed, Celia then departed from the guild.
As the sun began its slow descent in the west, a soft, golden glow spread across the land.
Celia entered the clock tower, allowing Vidona’s picturesque scenery to imprint itself deeply within her mind before she slowly made her way back to her rented abode.
She was to spend one final night within Miss Lena’s villa; tomorrow morning, she would depart this city in the company of her butler.
As if Lena knew this was Celia’s final night residing there, upon her return to the villa, a spread of prepared dishes already awaited her on the table.
The landlady’s culinary skills were truly superb. Ever since Celia had tasted her cooking previously, she had found herself continually yearning for it.
To her pleasant surprise, she would be able to savor it one last time before her departure.
At that moment, Lena observed Celia returning alone, and a hint of surprise registered on her face.
“Where are your teammates?”
Lena was referring to Celia’s two teammates: one, a slightly naive and perpetually hungry girl, and the other, a quiet and reserved young woman.
“They are currently engaged in a guild training mission and will not be returning this evening.”
“You’re not calling them back?”
Celia hesitated for a moment, her fingers tightening on the hem of her skirt.
She shook her head gently. “No, I don’t particularly care for farewell scenes.”
Lena, witnessing her reaction, offered no further words.
She understood the noble young lady’s disposition well. Those two teammates were among Celia’s very few cherished friends.
Celia clearly wished for her departure not to cast a shadow over them.
Upon learning that the two girls would not be returning that evening, Lena extended an invitation to Celia to dine with her. Celia, without a hint of formality, immediately took her seat and picked up her knife and fork.
Maintaining impeccable noble etiquette, she chewed her food in small, delicate bites. After finishing, she couldn’t help but offer a satisfied compliment.
“Miss Lena’s culinary skills are, as always, absolutely superb!”
Lena chuckled softly in response to the compliment. After the meal, she began to clear the dishes.
Celia, in turn, offered her assistance.
As she watched Celia’s back while she scrubbed the plates, Lena found her thoughts involuntarily drifting to her own daughter.
Sixteen years had elapsed; what kind of person had her newly adult daughter become?
Was she gentle and considerate, or perhaps boisterous and uninhibited? Or had she, perhaps, grown arrogant and pampered, relying on her identity as a demon princess?
With Sophia raising the child, Lena always harbored a slight unease.
‘My daughter, Celia,’ she thought, trying to reassure herself, ‘she’s doing very well in the demon realm. Very well indeed…’
After a brief session of self-assurance, she finally composed herself and retreated to her own bedroom.
After finishing her meal and resting for a short while, Celia made her way into the bathroom.
Following her bath, she carefully dried her long golden hair, then coiled it high upon her head, revealing the slender, pale expanse of her neck.
Subsequently, she emerged from the bathroom, modestly wrapped in a bath towel.
In this state, she was unexpectedly encountered by Lena, who happened to be passing by on her way to the study to retrieve a book.
“Finished your bath?” Lena began, intending to offer a casual greeting.
However, when her gaze inadvertently fell upon the back of Celia’s neck, she froze, utterly stunned.
“The back of your neck…”
“Ah, are you referring to that butterfly mark? It’s merely a birthmark; I’ve had it since the day I was born.”