The western region of the Heiner Empire, known as Kyleum or "Twellin," was often considered the second most livable area after the capital. It carried the nickname "The Abode of the Gods," a moniker that resonated with its name's origin, Kyleum, meaning "heavenly."

“Wow, it’s been a while,” Luke muttered as he stepped off the ship and into one of Kyleum’s core cities, Herba.

As he walked into Herba’s main square, the sight was anything but typical of a bustling city. Small, picturesque buildings, vibrant flowers, and carefully curated greenery created a cozy atmosphere that filled his view. Most of the towns within Kyleum shared this aesthetic—an idyllic harmony between white clouds and blue skies, giving credence to its nickname as the abode of gods.

Before entering the academy, Luke had lived here in Herba. His father had left the family shortly after he was born, and his mother, raising him alone, had passed away from illness. From a young age, Luke fended for himself. Before adulthood, he decided to join the academy, thinking it would provide a stable livelihood. The day he received his acceptance letter was also the day he realized he had transmigrated into the world of a novel. Resolving to follow the story’s trajectory, he left Herba behind.

Now, Luke was back—returning to his hometown.

Even before Theo's story reached its conclusion, Luke had often thought about where he would go once his role was complete. Staying in the capital seemed unappealing; the chances of running into imperial soldiers—or Theo—were too high, and he preferred to avoid such uncomfortable encounters. He also longed for a peaceful life, away from the harsh urban environment, where he could enjoy clean air and calm surroundings.

While others might view soldiers as noble, heroic figures with prestige and wealth, Luke knew the reality was different. His life as a soldier was spent battling monsters and slaying countless enemies on the frontlines of war. He waded through blood-soaked battlefields, forced to press on amid the cries of those he couldn’t save. The immense physical and emotional toll of his duties had driven him to dream of a life in stark contrast to the one he had lived.

After wandering the square for a bit, Luke approached a coachman waiting for passengers. When he gave his destination, the coachman cheerfully opened the carriage door.

“You seem like a tourist. What brings you to such a quiet village?” the coachman asked as he adjusted the reins. Luke’s destination was a small, secluded village far from the usual tourist attractions.

“I’m moving there.”

The coachman’s eyes widened in surprise before he offered a warm welcome. Soon, the carriage rattled into motion. Luke gazed out at the scenery through the small window. Though it had been years, the square and its surroundings felt remarkably unchanged, filling him with an unusual sense of comfort, as if he had returned to his rightful place.

As the carriage moved further from the square, vast fields and pastures came into view. A gust of wind swept through the green expanse, causing the grass to ripple like waves. Following the green road deeper into the countryside, clusters of houses appeared.

When the carriage stopped, Luke gathered his belongings and stepped out, backpack in hand. As he walked through the village, the locals glanced curiously in his direction. His striking silver hair and equally striking features made him stand out like a rare jewel amidst the rustic scenery.

Without hesitation, Luke walked as if he knew the way. Despite his initial worry about finding the location, his instincts led him unerringly.

“Oh, it’s still here,” he murmured, halting his steps.

Before him stood a small, simple house—humble to the point of being called shabby.

“New face, huh?” A villager, curious and full of questions, approached Luke as he stood in front of the house.

“Yes, I just moved here,” Luke replied politely.

“You’re moving in? To that house?” The villager pointed to the run-down building Luke had been looking at.

“It’s been empty for years.”

Luke knew that well—it had been his home before he left for the academy.

“You look like someone who could live anywhere. Why pick this place? It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Oh, no, I’m not moving into this house,” Luke said with a small laugh, shaking his head. The villager tilted his head in confusion. Luke’s attention on the house had understandably given the wrong impression.

“I’ve moved into that one over there.” Luke pointed to another home farther away, prompting the villager’s eyes to widen.

The house Luke had moved into wasn’t particularly extravagant, though it was larger than his residence in the capital. It was also located near an old flower farm that once belonged to a viscount’s family. The family, renowned for their horticultural prowess, had long since faded into obscurity after failing to produce an heir. Their mansion and flower farm had been left vacant for years, eventually becoming an unaffordable luxury due to the high cost of the land.

As Luke unpacked and set up the house, he installed various magical tools he had purchased earlier from the square. With a simple touch of his finger, he infused the tools with mana, lighting up the room instantly. Though he lacked experience in running a flower farm, he wasn’t worried—his ability to control mana gave him a significant advantage.

Humming a tune, Luke continued setting up the house, his plans gradually falling into place. He would focus on making the home livable before tackling the overgrown flower farm outside. Though he had enough savings from his time in the army to live comfortably for years, he knew the importance of having a purpose. Retiring from the military didn’t mean his life was over—it simply marked the end of one chapter and the start of another.

A peaceful life tending a flower farm in the countryside.

This was the first page of Luke’s second chapter.

As he stepped out to buy additional supplies, he suddenly felt a familiar gaze on him. His instincts, honed by years on the battlefield, kicked in. He turned his head sharply toward the source.

“Hmm?”

There, among the villagers, stood a face that was both unfamiliar and unmistakably familiar.