"Yo."

"Mr. Holland?"

When the door opened, there he stood.

Night. Winter.
In this part of town, the streetlights had long since gone out, leaving the cold to dominate the scene. Through the narrow crack of the slightly open door, only a scattering of stars could be seen. The biting wind, in mere seconds, turned Klaha’s hand on the doorknob red with cold, making the starlight seem like glimmers on a glacier.

Holland wasn’t dressed in the active garb of an adventurer.
He wore a simple, casual outfit—a loose-fitting coat like that of a peaceful family man, one who might spend his days leisurely. He stood there in such unassuming attire.

In his right hand, he held a bag.

"Here. A little something for you," he said.

"Huh?"

"I heard about it. Your house, it burned down, didn’t it? …Where exactly?"

"Ah, it’s around back here…"

"Thank you so much, really…" Klaha bowed her head as she accepted the bag and slipped on her sandals, stepping outside to guide Holland. She peeked into the bag and saw some fruit and a package from a renowned confectionery shop in town. Holland probably wasn’t familiar with such shops himself, so it must have been someone in his family who suggested it. Klaha mused on this trivial thought as they walked.

"Here it is," Klaha said, pointing. Even in the dim light of night, the charred stains on the house’s exterior were visible.

"You noticed it right away?"

"Yes. We’ve been conserving heating lately, but it felt unusually warm, so I went to check…"

"That’s what they call a blessing in disguise. No injuries, either. You’re lucky you’re safe."

"Yes."

Holland crouched to examine the house for a moment. Then, muttering "…I see," he stood back up.

"Has the knight order been investigating?"

"Oh, no. The Holy Knights are handling it instead."

"Hmm. I see…"

He stroked his beard for a while. Klaha, unsure of what to say, just stood there silently.

Klaha’s house had been set on fire just three days earlier.
And while she would claim otherwise, Klaha wasn’t entirely clueless about who might be responsible.

After Godach’s disappearance, The Next Apex had gone into hiatus. It was a party largely dependent on him, and its S-rank banner was too heavy to carry without its leader.

Thus, Klaha suspected that the seeds of resentment had been sown by none other than herself—the one who had told the Holy Knights about what had transpired in the labyrinth.

Perhaps that resentment had culminated in an attempt to burn her house down.

A sharp gust of wind blew, making Klaha shiver.

"Oops," Holland said.
"My bad, my bad. It’s cold out here. I just came by to drop off the gift. I even asked around for something tasty, so take your time and enjoy it while you rest up."

"Would you like to come in? I can make some tea—"

"No need. People might talk, you know? A middle-aged man visiting a young single woman’s home at night? You’ve got to be mindful of that stuff, too. Even my own kids are starting to hit that age…"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, then added,
"Sorry. Didn’t mean to get preachy. Make sure to turn on the heat when you sleep," he said, turning to leave.

Klaha followed him to the front door to see him off and suddenly called out.
"Um,"

"Hm?"

"……No, it’s nothing."

What’s going to happen now?

She had wanted to ask.

The Next Apex showed no signs of movement. Godach’s whereabouts remained unknown. For the past month and a half, she had been suspended in limbo, unable to do anything.

What will happen from now on?

Having allowed herself to continue living after abandoning Jil to die, what kind of future could she possibly expect?

What should I do?

She wanted to ask these things. But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t ask the man who had gone out of his way to visit her despite no longer being in an active party—the man who had shown her kindness—because she knew.

She knew that she was the one who had sown the seeds of chaos, tipping off the Holy Knights and setting in motion events that could destroy Holland’s peaceful life with his family.

But then—

"Do you have a family?" Holland asked.

"…Huh?"

"You’re here all alone—even after your house was burned. You didn’t go back to your folks. That means they’re not nearby, right?"

"That’s… right."

Holland said:
"In that case, get out of here. Right now. Run off somewhere far away."

"What?"

"Don’t give me that look." He chuckled.

"I told you before, didn’t I? If things got bad, pack your stuff and leave town. …That time is now."

"But I—"

"Enough. Don’t be stubborn. There are times in life when you just have to back down if you want to survive."

He exhaled, the breath visible in the cold night air.

"To be honest, it’s not just you."

"…What do you mean?"

"The whole party. Always has been. Well, not always, but ever since he picked up that cursed sword… all of us have been under his thumb."

Klaha’s light blue eyes widened in the dark night.

"Does that mean—"

"Don’t dig any deeper. That’s all I’ll say. It’s not because you’re weak or at fault. So—"

"I will hear the details."

A third voice interrupted.

Klaha didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Before Holland’s visit, she had already let this person into her home. They had offered to stand guard for her at night.

"I will hear everything. You cannot brush this aside any longer."

Holland let out a wry chuckle when he saw the third party and muttered,
"Well, this is a problem. I told my family I’d be back early."

"You needn’t worry. I’ll have one of my subordinates deliver a message—discreetly and in a way that safeguards your reputation."

"Fair enough. In that case, just tell them I got dragged into a bar somewhere. It’ll sound better than visiting some kid’s house in the middle of the night."

Not that it would stop my wife from scolding me later, he added, smiling faintly.

"Very well. You have my word, Commander of the Fourth Order of the Holy Knights, Arinate."

"Appreciated."

Holland met Arinate’s gaze squarely.