"It's not a big deal," Ziel had said, and Klaha remembered it well.

It was right after they had left the town where Chikano and Icca lived in the eastern country. She had let out a tremendous scream of shock, and he had turned to her.

"I didn’t say anything because it really wasn’t a big deal," he had added.

Then, as the conversation continued, he had casually mentioned something along the lines of, "I figured if I said I was close to dying, you'd feel obligated to worry about me..." That, too, was something she clearly remembered.

So, after a lot of careful wording and roundabout explanations, which ultimately resembled some towering steel structure reaching into the clouds, Klaha pieced together the story like this:

Ziel had encountered a wolf in the snowfields of his homeland in the north when he was twelve years old and had been cursed.

Since then, he had been traveling to break that curse.

He did not share many details about the curse, and Klaha didn’t press him.

Because, surely, it wasn’t a happy story.

Being cursed, leaving home, learning to fight—now, he had even reached the point where he could battle apocryphal beasts. Thinking about how difficult that journey must have been...

It seemed like something deeply personal, something he wouldn't want to talk about, something he had every reason to keep to himself. It wasn’t something she should pry into out of mere curiosity.

Of course, in truth, she had countless things she wanted to ask.

But thinking as she did, she decided, "I should take my time organizing my thoughts and ask properly." Then, when she actually sat down later with her notebook to carefully consider her questions, she ended up thinking things like, "If he had told me this from the beginning, I would have hesitated and not joined this journey," and "But if that had happened..." and "The more I think about it, the more I feel like he handled it in a way that was actually very reasonable for me," and "Ever since that day, I feel like I've been just a little bit down," and even, "Well, I have my own past that I haven't shared either."

By the time she reached those thoughts, any urge to demand answers from him had already faded. Maybe he had just been waiting for the right time until things were at the right temperature. No, that had to be it. In both the central and eastern countries, he had always tried to consider her feelings.

So in the end, after all that time, Klaha could only come up with one question.

She made him sit on a chair instead of kneeling solemnly on the floor, opened her notebook, and carefully, as she had practiced, making sure not to let it sound like pressure, adjusting her tone, doing her best in every way to make it seem natural, she asked:

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ziel looked surprised. Then his expression changed, as if he felt a deep relief, as if he was glad she had understood his intentions.

And he answered:

"If you could take me to those northern snowfields one day, that would be a huge help.

—If I defeat that wolf in a duel before I turn twenty-two, the curse will be lifted."

"I see," Klaha nodded.

She also said, "Don't worry. When the time comes, I will definitely take you there."

She accepted his unbelievable confession, made up her mind, and resolved to fully support Ziel’s journey from now on.

That was that. But now, watching the man suddenly jump off the deck in front of her, she couldn't help but start wondering, "Maybe, even aside from his past, this person is just inherently reckless."

It was only a small suspicion, just a tiny sprout compared to the massive seed of knowledge she had been given.

He couldn't say he had no worries at all.

At least when it came to Klaha.

"Whoa, it's so bright. The glare is intense..."

"Yes, it is. I think long sleeves would be better in this weather."

The ship arrived at the port the following afternoon.

The sun had already reached its peak and was beginning to tilt slightly. The hottest time of the day. As the two of them stepped from the sea to the land, the heat became unbearable. Their shadows grew darker, scattered along the gangway as they disembarked.

Was it because they had been on the ship for so long, or was it just the unsteady footing? Klaha felt a slight sense of wavering underfoot. Ziel, watching her carefully, said, "Watch your step," while quietly thinking to himself—

Was he pushing her too hard?

The events in the eastern country were still fresh in his memory.

Had he failed to notice because he lacked perception, or was Klaha simply too good at hiding it? Either way, he hadn’t realized the burden she was carrying until things had become serious. That thought made him worry.

Right now, it felt like she had forgiven him.

But was that really true? Or was she just enduring the strain he had placed on her?

Of course, it was about the curse he had confessed just the other day.

To him, it really wasn’t a big deal.

After more than eight years, the curse had become a natural part of his life. It was something he could have gone on without ever mentioning.

But suddenly telling her, "There’s a chance I might die from this curse soon, but really, it's nothing serious, really, I mean it, really," and expecting her to take it at face value—well, if he recalled what she had said on the ship just yesterday...

He strongly suspected that she had not, in fact, taken it at face value.

He observed her through his glasses.

"Uh, where are we supposed to meet them from here...?"

"They said they’d be meeting us at the port, so..."

"Over there, maybe?"

Klaha turned to the side Ziel had been facing and pointed.

There, colorful parasols stood at varying heights like blooming flowers.

Beneath them, white tables and chairs were arranged in an open plaza.

The port was bustling with activity. People disembarked from ships, handed over their tickets, and then either headed toward the city streets or entered the dimly lit ticket office inside a building, likely to transfer to another vessel.

And among them—

Seeing the familiar faces of the mother and child who had dropped the pendant on the ship, now embracing a man who seemed to be the father in that plaza, it became clear that this was the most suitable meeting place.

Ziel adjusted his glasses with a slight push and surveyed the area.

However, he didn’t immediately spot any familiar faces, so he said,

“Maybe the carriage is running late. Let’s sit and wait for a bit.”

“Let’s do that.”

He and Klaha took seats at an empty table and sat down.

The sea breeze blew strongly, causing both of their hair to sway. When he rested his arms on the table, the sleeves of his clothes caught grains of sand, making a slight grating sound. Ziel glanced around once more, but that slightly conspicuous hair color and face were still nowhere to be seen.

Somehow—

He had thought that this person would be the type to arrive at the meeting spot at least an hour early.

Well, it wasn’t as if they had any urgent matters. Today was a travel day, after all. So he leaned back in his chair, deciding to take it easy, and gazed up at the underside of the parasol above them.

“Hm.”

That was when he noticed a small bit of graffiti.

“What gets bigger the farther away it is?”

Interesting, he thought.

Was it a simple riddle, or just some cryptic graffiti? If it was a riddle, that would be fun. He pondered it for a moment and thought, Klaha would probably like this kind of thing. Lowering his gaze to share the question with her—

She was staring intently.

Not at the parasol’s underside, but at something else entirely.

Following her gaze, he saw it.

A fruit juice stand.

“Are you interested?”

“Huh?!”

Ziel thought to himself, Nice save.

“If you want some, I can go buy it for you.”

“Ah, no, um…”

“Not that thirsty?”

“No! I actually, quite a lot, really, really want some, but…”

She hesitated, mentioning the time.

He responded, “It’s fine. They’re running late anyway.”

After fidgeting and deliberating for a moment, she finally said,

“…Um, you’re right. If they’re not here yet at this time, they’re probably arriving by the next ship’s carriage, so…”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go buy some…”

“Have fun.”

With a shy smile, she stood up and headed for the stand.

Just watching her ask the vendor about the menu, her excitement was evident, and Ziel found himself smiling softly.

Then, he noticed—some of the unease he had been feeling had begun to fade.

Little by little, he was getting better at noticing her feelings. And she, in turn, was becoming more open about expressing them.

Rather than dwelling on whether “one conversation hadn’t been enough to fully communicate everything,” it would be better to just keep talking, sharing, and understanding each other over time.

Thinking that, he felt his shoulders relax.

With his mind now freed, his thoughts returned to the mystery before him.

What gets bigger the farther away it is?

Ziel stared at his palm, then extended it away from him. Naturally, it appeared to shrink in his field of vision. Its actual size didn’t change, but it seemed smaller.

So then, what was the opposite?

Was there actually something that fit this description, or was it just a riddle?

As he pondered, a voice spoke.

“Waiting for someone?”

He turned to see a woman sitting nearby.

She appeared to be in her early forties, but her low voice and composed demeanor made her seem closer in age to Valdfried. She had turned slightly toward him from under another parasol.

Ziel nodded honestly, then thought for a moment and asked,

“Pardon me, but if you happen to know—are there any other common meeting spots around here besides this plaza?”

“If you go into the city, there are a few. But from the way you ask, it sounds like you didn’t decide on an exact meeting point?”

“No, we didn’t.”

“Then there’s nowhere else. If you went into the city, it would be nearly impossible to meet up at a random location—it’s too big, and there are too many good meeting spots.”

Ziel nodded thoughtfully.

He had been wondering if there was perhaps a more obvious meeting point, if maybe they had misjudged and were actually making their contact wait elsewhere.

Since Klaha had confidently said, “It’ll be here,” he had trusted her judgment, but now he had confirmation from another source. Relieved, he bowed his head slightly.

“That helps.”

“Don’t worry about it. I was the one who spoke to you first.”

“Thanks. Are you waiting for someone, too?”

“More or less. I am waiting, at least.”

Ziel raised an eyebrow.

It was an odd phrasing. But before he could think too deeply about it, the woman closed her mouth, opened a small book, and ended the conversation. And at the same time—

“Um, Ziel?”

Klaha had returned.

She held two cups of juice.

“Do you want banana or açaí?”

“Eh—”

He was surprised that she had bought some for him, too.

Then again, considering Klaha’s personality, of course she would. He should have expected it. He should have gone with her from the start. I still have a lot to learn.

He reached into his pocket to pay for his share but then remembered—he had left his wallet with Klaha, together with their belongings, to avoid losing it on the ship. I’ll just have her take out the right amount later, he thought.

“Thanks for getting me one. Which one do you want, Klaha?”

“Ah, um. Either is fine. I wanted to try both, so you can pick whichever you like—oh, wait, you’re not bad with fruit, are you?”

Before she could start worrying, he reassured her, “I have likes, but no dislikes.”

After a bit of discussion, they decided to split both drinks in half.

As Ziel took a sip, he thought, I don’t really know what açaí is, but it’s pretty good. Across from him, Klaha was taking a sip of banana juice—her eyes shining with delight.

Ah, right, right.

Returning to his train of thought, Ziel refocused.

Something that grows larger the farther it gets.

The next thing that caught his eye was a ship moving away, right over the sea.

Of course, the farther it went, the smaller it appeared—

Ziel suddenly took off his glasses. Holding them up in front of his face, he moved them around like a magnifying glass.

If he moved the lenses farther from his face, the ship in focus should appear larger… or so he thought, but it was the opposite. It actually looked even smaller.

“Glasses,”

“Huh?”

“It’d be good to have a spare pair, wouldn’t it?”

How must he have looked, doing such a thing?

Klaha had spoken up, and she was absolutely right, so Ziel simply nodded, “Ah.”

Glasses.

Yes, glasses.

Ever since a dragon's curse had repeatedly afflicted him, his vision had deteriorated terribly, and those glasses were his lifeline. When he was thrown into the highest-difficulty dungeon, one of the two pairs he had shattered. Now, he was constantly on the edge, knowing that if the remaining pair broke, everything would be over.

“The place that made them before was on extended leave, wasn’t it? It’d be great if we could find another source.”

“Yeah. But that’s easier said than done. It’s hard to find a craftsman who can make these glasses.”

“I’m sorry for using something so valuable…”

Ziel quickly sensed that this conversation was heading into dangerous territory.

For now, he decided to adopt the attitude of an old man who had accepted that “everything breaks someday,” and then, attempting to steer the topic elsewhere, asked, “By the way, do you know what kind of fruit this açaí is?”

At that moment—

“Oh,”
“Eh?”

Suddenly, the area darkened.

Startled, Ziel and Klaha simultaneously leaned out from under the parasol.

But it was nothing unusual. The sun had simply been momentarily covered by a drifting cloud. The sunlight had been so bright that the brief obstruction made it seem as if it had suddenly grown dark.

And the cloud causing the shadow was small. It was quickly blown away by the wind, and once again, the dazzling summer of the southern country returned.

Ziel exhaled, letting go of his tension.

He and Klaha shared an embarrassed smile, realizing they had overreacted. The cloud had come at just the right moment, allowing for a smooth shift in the conversation. He was oddly grateful for it.

That’s when he noticed.

“A shadow?”

“Huh?”

Ziel’s voice carried a hint of excitement as he explained to Klaha.

There was a puzzle written on the parasol here, and he had just solved it.

Something that grows larger the farther it gets.

The answer was: a shadow.

“Look, for example, like this.”

Ziel placed his fruit juice on the table and stepped out from under the parasol. To make it clearer, he extended his open palm and cast a shadow on the ground.

Now that he thought about it, he had done something similar when he was in the eastern country. It was just like shadow puppetry. If one wanted to project the shadow of a dog or a fox made with their hands, they had to move their hands farther from the paper doors—further from the shadow itself.

So, applying the same logic—

“…Huh?”

It didn’t work.

That shouldn’t be possible, Ziel thought. But since it was happening right before his eyes, he had no choice but to accept it.

He extended his hand.

Lowered it firmly, believing the shadow should shrink.

But it didn’t.

Even when he raised his hand high, it remained the same. It neither grew nor shrank. The shadow’s size remained constant, regardless of the distance to the ground.

“Ah. Ziel, that’s—”

Klaha started to say, “Not exactly wrong,” but by then, Ziel’s attention had already shifted to his surroundings.

He had noticed something in the natural world that contradicted his understanding.

For example, the parasols.

If shadows grew larger the farther they were, then by logic, shouldn’t they be placed even higher? If a towering parasol cast an enormous shadow, they could consolidate the dozen or so here into just one and save space.

But that wasn’t happening.

The parasols on the terrace, each adjusted to different heights by their users, all cast roughly the same-sized shadow. He heard Klaha explaining, “It’s because of the light source,” but before he could focus on her words—

“Huh?”

Something caught his eye.

“…? Is something—”

Klaha, drawn in by his expression, followed his gaze.

But Ziel barely registered her presence.

Because, right before him, there was something incredibly unnatural.

Once noticed, neither he nor Klaha could ignore it.

“Um, that…”

Ziel instinctively stepped forward and spoke.

The person he had just spoken with earlier.

A woman with deep blue hair and a calm demeanor, her voice low and steady.

“What’s going on with that?”

He pointed to the ground beneath her chair—

The place where, inexplicably, its shadow was completely gone.

“Hmm. If I had to put it into words…”

With that murmur, she closed her book with a soft thud.

Ziel tensed, wondering who exactly she was. Yet she showed no sign of nervousness. She simply rose, as if her business had been concluded.

Looking up at him, she said:

“It’s a meeting point.”

“Huh?”

“I apologize, Church Special Forces. And your companion as well.”

She gave a slight bow before introducing herself.

“I am Wilae. I will be assisting you in the Great Ruins investigation as one of the assigned mages. If you need a title, I am the Vice Director of the Grand Library—no, rather…”

Her hand touched the chair she had just been sitting in.

She grasped it. Lifted it. Shifted it aside.

Right in front of Ziel, at his feet, she moved the chair, revealing—

“It might be easier to understand if I said I’m that child's teacher.”

With a snap of her fingers—

A radiant light flared to life.

The summer sun had conditioned Ziel’s eyes, yet the sudden brilliance still dazzled him.

Through the slits of his narrowed eyes, through the lenses of his glasses, he saw it.

Beneath the chair where there had been no shadow at all—

A magic circle had appeared.

“What the—?!”

Before he could even process it, before he could even reach the answer—

Two arms emerged from the circle—

They seized his legs.

And in the next instant, Ziel was pulled into the magic circle.