Aeron remembers the first day he met the little girl standing before him.

They had rushed to the city after hearing it was under attack by a horde of monsters, only to find chaos and destruction.

Kana was the sole survivor of that city.

“This girl is destined for greatness.”

Garid had said this, looking down at the young girl who had fallen asleep in his arms.

Her courage, cold-headed judgment, and unbreakable spirit—she had faced overwhelming odds without fear.

Those qualities would have been impressive in an adult, let alone a girl who could hardly have been older than five or six.

Remembering the sight of that young girl fighting monsters, Aeron had agreed with Garid’s assessment.

“So… what are you planning to do? Should we try to find her family?”

Aeron asked, knowing it would likely be futile.

Her clothes were torn and tattered, her face and body covered in grime.

While her face was cute enough to belong to an aristocrat, her overall appearance was far removed from nobility.

She likely had no parents—or if they existed, they hadn’t survived the chaos.

“We’ll search for them first, but if we can’t find them…”

“If we can’t?”

“I might make her my daughter.”

“…Excuse me? Just like that?”

Aeron had seen Garid express sympathy for children who had lost their parents or were down on their luck, but this was the first time he’d heard him speak so decisively.

Seeing Aeron’s surprise, Garid just smiled.

“She’s won me over.”

The girl accepted Garid’s offer and became his daughter.

Aeron wasn’t merely a colleague of Garid’s but a close friend, so he often visited Garid’s home and had taken care of Kana on many occasions.

Though he spoke formally, Kana was as dear to him as if she were his own daughter or ward.

“The Commander hasn’t changed one bit.”

“…What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? I’m talking about your height, of course. I kept telling you and Garid to eat vegetables instead of just meat—”

“Aaah, I can’t hear you!”

Kana covered her ears and shook her head, looking every bit like a child trying to avoid a scolding.

Aeron sighed and stopped his lecture, and Kana finally stopped shaking her head.

“You know it’s not because of picky eating. If it weren’t for that perverted lizard, I’d be twice as tall.”

“…Only you would call Lord Grasid a pervert. And twice as tall? Come now.”

She was likely the only one who could say such things and get away with it.

“Well, what else should I call him?”

“…Let’s just move on. So, where have you been all this time? You disappeared right after the war ended, and no one could find you.”

He had some guesses, though.

“Garid’s grave.”

“I figured as much.”

Kana’s response was exactly what Aeron had expected.

“You knew?”

“You never made friends, and I couldn’t imagine you throwing yourself at the Empire. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d go.”

“Eric had no idea.”

“You met Eric? What’s he up to these days?”

“He’s the captain of the Ordo guard.”

“…Captain of the guard? Eric? I can’t picture that at all.”

“He’s gotten older.”

“…?”

How old was Kana now?

Aeron quickly did the math.

She had been around six when they first met, and it had been about ten years since then…

“Seventeen, roughly.”

A kid not even twenty years old talking about someone older than her like that.

Kana’s youthful appearance made her words sound even more amusing to Aeron.

“You knew where I was, so why didn’t you come looking? Garid would be disappointed.”

“Sometimes, people need time alone.”

“…Huh?”

Kana looked at him quizzically, and Aeron just smiled.

“Now that you’re here, I’ll have to pay him a visit soon.”

“Yeah. But don’t go when I’m not there. That snake put up a barrier.”

“…The snake? You mean that guy?”

“Do I talk about any other snakes?”

“…What happened? Did you come out here because of that?”

“It’s partly related. Thanks to that snake, I’ve come out to find some answers.”

Kana pulled up a chair and sat down.

With her small frame behind the big desk, Aeron could barely see the top of her head.

“I have some questions about the apostles.”

“The apostles…?”

“Know anything?”

“No. Just…”

Aeron sighed.

“Because of the apostles, Riverie’s been dealing with quite a few headaches lately.”

Those people who Edel brought over had appeared in Ardina out of nowhere.

It’d be a lie to say they hadn’t helped, but they’d caused plenty of problems, too.

Aeron was the head instructor, so he only dealt with training and didn’t involve himself too much in administration, but he understood the current atmosphere in Riverie well.

Edel’s favor had won them many allies, but…

“There are definitely complaints.”

Existing mercenaries had spent years honing their skills and building up their reputations, only to be recognized as higher-ranked mercenaries after passing stringent evaluations.

But it was different for the apostles.

Compared to the existing mercenaries, their evaluations were simpler, and they needed far fewer achievements.

Many mercenaries felt slighted by such blatant preferential treatment.

“People say things like, ‘Is Edel’s favor all it takes?’ and ‘No matter what, evaluations should be fair,’ and so on…”

“Can’t you just treat them the same?”

“That’s easier said than done. Simplifying evaluations for the existing mercenaries would only lead to more casualties.”

Apostles, even if lacking in skill, were fine because of Edel’s protection—they could revive indefinitely.

But the people of Ardina didn’t have infinite lives.

Lowering the evaluation standards and awarding higher ranks could result in people taking on requests beyond their capabilities and potentially getting killed.

Riverie aimed to train mercenaries, not churn out disposable soldiers who’d die on the battlefield.

“Then, why not reverse it?”

“Hah… If it were that easy, we’d have done it by now.”

Their growth rate was too rapid compared to the accumulation of achievements.

Even if they lacked experience, their physical prowess and the mana they wielded were on par with most mercenaries.

But that wasn’t the real issue.

“Edel herself decreed it. Do you understand? She even delivered the decree as a divine prophecy.”

“…Edel?”

“Caught between a rock and a hard place.”

No one on the Ardina continent could ignore Edel’s decrees.

Even the mighty Ro Arca Empire bowed to Edel and the Sacred Nation of Sedes.

“Bringing people over from another continent and then issuing decrees like this… I have no idea what she’s planning.”

“Who knows.”

Kana fell silent, contemplating.

“Another continent, across the sea…”

“Do you know something?”

“…No.”

Kana shook her head.

“That’s why I’m going to the Sacred Nation.”

To ask Edel.

“Ask Edel?”

Aeron rubbed his ears as if he’d misheard.

“It’s been centuries since the last divine prophecy. Do you think that’s even possible?”

“If it’s not, then it’s not.”

There was no harm in trying.

Aeron’s expression remained skeptical.

“I’m saying this because I think you won’t even get the chance. Commander, it’s not like Edel is some next-door neighbor you can just walk up to. Do you expect them to say, ‘Oh, sure! Come right in!’ just because you ask?”

“…I-I didn’t think—”

“You definitely did. How many years do you think I’ve known you? Save that for someone who doesn’t know better.”

“…”

I couldn’t deny Aeron’s words.

I probably would have acted just as he described.

Seeing my pout, Aeron’s voice softened.

“Well, maybe it’s not entirely impossible.”

“…A minute ago, you said it wasn’t.”

“According to the believers, Edel hears every prayer in the chapel. If you pray sincerely, maybe she’ll answer.”

“I’m not a believer.”

“Maybe now’s a good time to start believing in Edel.”

“…”

I had no intention of suddenly picking up a religion, so it wasn’t exactly useful advice.

“I’ll just go and see.”

“Suit yourself. When have you ever listened to me?”

“It’s not like I’ve never listened.”

“Which is why you always avoided vegetables.”

“…This again?”

The conversation returned to the topic of my picky eating, which I’d been hearing about for years. I cringed and changed the subject.

“Enough about tasteless vegetables. Why are you working here?”

Aeron looked like he had plenty to say, but eventually, he sighed and swallowed his words.

“It’s the only thing I’m good at. I didn’t want to go to the Empire, but Riverie offered me the role of head instructor, so I figured it was time to finally leave the deputy position behind.”

“Eternal deputy.”

It was one of the jokes people used to tease Aeron with.

When Garid was commander, Aeron was the deputy. He stepped down briefly when I became the deputy, then returned to the position when Garid died and I took over as commander.

So he wasn’t technically “eternal” deputy, but it was said to imply that he’d never be a commander.

I think there was a similar saying in my previous life about a pro gamer, but I can’t quite remember.

“Maybe I should get a job here, too. As an instructor, like you.”

“Please, spare us.”

I shrugged.

I hadn’t meant it seriously; it was just a tease for the eternal deputy.

As I was about to tell him it was a joke, Aeron beat me to it.

“Don’t you feel sorry for the mercenaries?”

“…?”

Wait, that’s the issue?

“Why the mercenaries?”

“Do you seriously not get it?”

“I don’t.”

I wouldn’t ask if I did.

At my puzzled response, Aeron held his head in his hands.

“Forget it. Just avoid teaching anyone if you can.”

For the sake of the poor soul who’d have to learn from the Commander.

He added, and I blinked at him.

I kept blinking, and eventually, Aeron seemed to sense something and lowered his hand from his head, cautiously asking,

“…You’re not seriously thinking what I think you are, are you?”

“…”

“Oh, Kana…”

Hearing him use my name for the first time in so long, I flinched.

Aeron clasped his hands together solemnly.

“What kind of sins must someone have committed in a past life to end up learning from Kana… May they rest in peace.”

“…Stop acting like they’re dead already.”

They’re apostles, anyway, so they won’t die.