"Adam, you're so handsome."Lina, upon recognizing the person who had entered, immediately rushed over, her small eyes blinking rapidly, filled with admiration.
Adam ruffled the little one's head but didn't indulge her today. He had disembarked from the carriage at the intersection and instructed Crol to prepare in advance.
Taking in the surroundings of the Borku estate, Adam noticed the many changes since his last visit—there were now traces of his presence throughout the house.
As Adam grew in power, his influence had spread, and so had the Borku family's standing in the district.
Under Adam's guidance, their financial situation had significantly improved. Recently, they had even begun to discuss purchasing another shop to expand their business.
Adam hadn't asked Will or Doug to assist directly; he didn't want to appear too close to the Borku family.
Maggie wasn't at home, so Adam found Alis working on some carpentry in a small shed, where they discussed the matter of moving out.
As his responsibilities grew, spending each day shuttling between the Borku estate and the Mirror Tower had begun to feel like a waste of time.
Alis looked at Adam across the table, an unfamiliar sense of distance creeping into his gaze. He seemed at a loss for words, sensing a shift in their relationship.
"Is the money I brought last time still enough?" Adam asked, but the question only deepened the awkward silence, as though all the unspoken emotions had condensed into the weight of gold.
Alis silently nodded.
"I'm overwhelmed with my studies, so I plan to move out," Adam continued, speaking flatly, his tone devoid of emotion. "I truly appreciate all you've done for me this past month."
"Adam..."
"Please also pass my farewell to Aunt Maggie. There's nothing more to discuss. That's all." Adam stood up and walked toward the door, pausing briefly to add, "I'll send word about my new address later. If you need anything, you can reach out to me."
"However, please don't trouble me with minor matters."
"Understood. Focus on your studies and return if there's anything urgent," Alis said quietly, returning to his work, not offering any further words.
"Adam, I want some dried fruit!"In the front hall, Lina tugged at Adam's sleeve, whining, though she failed to notice the sugar stain still lingering on her lips.
Adam smiled, pulling out the dried fruit he had hidden earlier and placed the entire jar into Lina's hands.
"Don't eat too much. It's bad for your teeth," Adam advised, standing to leave just as the sound of a carriage approached. Crol entered, leading a few others inside.
After giving a few instructions, they quickly ascended to the attic.
Lina, looking at the unfamiliar faces entering her home, grew a little nervous.
She watched as Crol and the others carefully brought down wooden panels, self-portraits, and a box filled with clay. Adam opened the box and retrieved some of the clay.
With a simple mental focus, he formed a small, featureless doll about the size of a palm.
"Consider this a gift from me," Adam said, placing the doll into Lina's hands.
"Adam, where are you going?" Lina asked timidly, clutching both items, looking up at Adam.
Unfortunately, Adam stood in the doorway, his back to the setting sun, obscuring his features from her view.
Ruffling Lina's hair, Adam didn't say much more and turned to board the carriage.
As the carriage rolled down the road, Adam noticed Maggie standing by the roadside. He lowered the curtain, choosing not to look any further.
Moments later, Maggie's furious voice exploded from the Borku estate.
"What's that boy's problem? He's made something of himself, now doesn't want anything to do with us, huh?"
"You too, you should scold him! When he first came, his face was swollen beyond recognition... and you—stop crying already..."
Although Adam couldn't hear Maggie's tirade, based on his understanding of her, he knew the rest of her words were far from kind.
"Master, there are cultivators here," Crol's voice interrupted as he led Adam to a house not far from the central clock tower. Inside, several servants were already tidying up the place.
"It's fine. Once dinner is ready, have it brought up to me," Adam said, scanning the house before choosing a room upstairs for himself.
At the same time, others were heading toward Roya.
Fura and his group sat around a campfire, the sounds of village animals echoing in the distance, the horses panting softly nearby.
Across from Fura sat a young man with blonde hair, resting both hands on a sword, his body largely wrapped in bandages. He appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen years old, a blade of grass hanging from his mouth as he seemed to revel in the calmness of the night.
"Are all ascetic monks like you?" Fura asked, his curiosity piqued by the youth across from him.
Since the previous night's failed defense, Fura had been consumed with guilt over Lavin's injuries, feeling that his own lack of skill had allowed the werewolf to harm him.
When the letter arrived from the Theological Academy, he immediately took a leave of absence and headed to the Sacred Light Academy.
After a brief wait, he met the blonde youth.
The boy, a monk from a monastery, was said to be here because of a dangerous heteromorph—a white-haired werewolf.
The boy hadn't searched extensively elsewhere, but upon hearing that Fura had encountered a white-haired werewolf in Roya, he had immediately concluded that the creature was hiding there and came straight to the city.
"What do you mean?" the boy asked, his eyes still holding a trace of amusement.
"Hmm... are all ascetic monks always this cheerful?" Fura hesitated, trying to find the right words, and quickly added, "I didn't mean anything by it."
"I understand," the boy replied with a dismissive wave. "Most people think ascetic monks are either pious or suffering. There aren't many who can endure hardship and still manage to smile."
"Most of us just wear a permanent grimace. I grew up looking at that grimace every day—almost became one myself." The boy said this with a hint of enthusiasm.
"Our monastery is high up in the mountains, where you can see snow."
"In such a place, you don't get much to eat or wear, and you're made to train to exhaustion. It's hard not to develop a permanent bitter expression."
"I used to envy that kid who never had to train. He would sit in the corner, watching the young shoots growing from the snow or the snowflakes landing in his palm, admiring them for hours."
"Who was that person?" Fura asked, intrigued by the boy's description of someone who could appreciate the beauty of nature. He seemed like an interesting individual.
"Oh, just another grim-faced monk. He was always scheming something, though. If you spent too much time with him, you'd probably end up getting sold and still feel guilty about it. The only time he smiled was when he watched those natural scenes."
"Huh?" Fura frowned, unsure if the boy was referring to the same person.
"Let me tell you a secret." The boy suddenly leaned in closer and pulled Fura aside.
Although Fura was a few years older than the boy, he felt that the pace of their conversation was entirely in the boy's control.
"Aiden, what are you trying to say?" Fura asked, calling the boy by name.
"Fura, I've got my eye on you among all these people," the boy—Aiden—whispered, pulling Fura to the side.
"You're being so mysterious," Fura said with a wry smile.
"Promise me you won't tell anyone else," Aiden said, his tone suddenly serious.
After Fura agreed, Aiden leaned in closer and spoke quietly, "The werewolf heteromorph we're after... he's the same one I told you about before."
With that, Aiden swiftly dashed away, leaving Fura standing there, stunned and unsure of what to make of it.
"Aiden was talking about the one who's been at the monastery since childhood, right? He's a werewolf?"
"How could a werewolf be in a monastery?"