The last day of the Days of Renewal had finally arrived.

The streets were even more decorated than before, and the crowds had nearly doubled. It was as if everyone had crawled out of their bed after long days of rest from work for one final celebration before the year turned to 994—before we all had to start fresh again.

Thankfully, I hadn’t been pursued by that noble brat I fought the other day. Looks like Leander was right—the kid had too much pride to go crying to his parents about losing to someone smaller than him.

Which meant… I was free to celebrate.

No, we were free to celebrate.

And we did. To our hearts’ content.

We ate all kinds of festival foods, played games like dart-throwing—though, I’ll be honest, I sucked at it. Didn’t win a single prize. Meanwhile, Rhea? Yeah, she was terrifyingly good at it. She won every single round like it was nothing.

Clarisse, on the other hand, had to leave early. The academy required students to prepare for the upcoming school year, so she waved us goodbye, promising to write. It was kind of sad, but that’s just how it went.

By the time we made it back, I was dead tired.

I collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, stretching my limbs out. Rhea sat in a chair nearby, quietly munching on meat. Again. The girl and her love for food were truly something else.

"That was fun," I muttered, staring at the ceiling.

"It really was," Rhea agreed.

She was smiling. Actually smiling.

And, honestly? She looked a lot brighter that way.

"Well, there's still more to do later," I said, forcing myself to sit up. My body was not happy about it.

Rhea just nodded. "Actually… I’ve never experienced this kind of celebration before," she admitted. Her tone was blunt, but the way she avoided my gaze made it clear—she was a little embarrassed about it.

That caught me off guard. This was her first time?

Then again… I already knew why.

I almost forgot—Rhea had been abducted years ago. Turned into a slave along with her sister. She probably never had the chance to celebrate the Days of Renewal.

Yeah. That explained a lot.

I was curious about her sister, but I didn’t bring her up. Right now, she was actually enjoying herself. No point in ruining the moment.

Still… I hadn’t forgotten what she said back when those kids were tormenting her.

That her sister had been killed by the duke of that estate.

I didn’t know if that was true. But every time I looked at her… I couldn’t help but remember.

One thing I noticed about Rhea—she was quiet, sure, but observant.

I wasn’t completely certain, but it felt like she was always listening, always watching. Not in a creepy way, but in that kind of focused, taking-in-everything way.

The way she subtly glanced around, the small reactions when someone spoke—like she was picking up on details the rest of us missed.

I had a feeling it had something to do with her past. Maybe even her background.

But I wasn’t at the point where I could ask her about it. Not yet.

What I did know?

She probably had a huge grudge against a certain noble.

That much was obvious.

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The rest of the day was exhausting. But also pretty fun.

After finishing up a few activities, we watched some games—ones I’d never seen before.

One in particular stood out—The Ember Chase.

The concept? Simple. Participants had to race through an obstacle course while carrying a small ember flame. The goal? Reach the final checkpoint without letting it go out.

It was way more intense than I expected.

What a game.

As night fell, two more events remained before the new year officially began.

Before the final celebration of the Days of Renewal, we had the Ash Walk—a simple yet meaningful tradition. Basically, you write down your regrets on a piece of paper, then toss it into a bonfire. The idea is that by burning them, you let go of the past and start the new year fresh.

Pretty symbolic. Pretty poetic. Pretty much a free therapy session disguised as a festival ritual.

If you’re wondering what I wrote… well, here’s the gist of it:

In my previous life, I created art. But I never actually lived my own life.

This time around, I wanted to change that. I wanted to create art while actually living my own life.

No more regrets.

No more letting time slip away.

Just as I was about to toss my paper into the fire, my father, standing beside me, leaned in with a curious grin.

"So, what’d you write, huh?" he asked, clearly trying to sneak a peek.

I quickly pulled the paper away. "That’s against the rules, Father."

It was an unspoken rule that no one was supposed to see what you wrote. Just you and the fire.

Still, I could tell he was tempted to push further.

"Let him Victor." Mother calmly said waving off father.

I glanced over at Rhea just as she tossed her paper into the fire.

She looked determined. That was all I could tell. No hesitation, no second-guessing—just a quiet resolve.

I had no idea what she wrote, and honestly? I wasn’t about to ask.

Still, it was kind of nice knowing that this was her first Ash Walk too.

Once everyone had thrown in their regrets and fears, the fire burned itself out until nothing was left but a bed of cold ashes. That was when the final part of the tradition began—the Ash Walk itself.

Basically, one family member steps onto the ashes, symbolizing the idea of moving forward without burdens.

And, of course, my father—bless his soul—volunteered himself without hesitation.

With a big grin, he stepped onto the cooled embers, arms spread like he had just conquered a mountain.

I watched him for a moment. He looked… oddly happy.

People did this to show they were stepping forward with no regrets, and judging by his face, he was definitely enjoying himself.

That’s when I noticed something.

Rhea had disappeared from where she was standing earlier.

For a second, I thought she had just vanished into thin air. But then I spotted her—sitting on a bench near the bonfire, watching from a distance.

After watching my father strut across the ashes like he was some kind of enlightened monk, I decided to head toward Rhea.

From a distance, I noticed her fists were clenched. But as I got closer, I saw something else—they were trembling in her lap.

Without a word, I lowered myself onto the bench beside her.

I didn’t look at her. Didn’t press. Just sat there and let myself relax.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, eyes still on the night sky.

She turned slightly. "I just feel… contemplative."

That was vague. But I didn’t push. If she wanted to talk, she would.

She exhaled. "I know you wouldn’t understand. And honestly, you don’t need to. This has nothing to do with you."

I stayed quiet. Just listened.

She hesitated before continuing.

"I feel… cheated." Her voice was quiet, strained. "Here I am. Breathing. Alive. And yet, my sister isn’t. She’s… gone. And I was so weak back then—so pathetically weak—that she had to protect me. She took all the pain, all the suffering, while I did nothing."

She clenched her fists tighter.

"And now… I regret it. I regret everything."

She took a shaky breath.

"I'm… truly scared."

"I'm scared of what I'll do," she admitted, her voice quieter this time.

Before I could even think of a response, a shadow fell over us, blocking the light from where we sat.

I looked up.

Leander.

Even with his hood pulled up again, I could tell it was him.

"What are you two kids doing here?" he asked, tilting his head. "Plotting a rebellion?"

Talk about timing.

I was about to throw out some sarcastic response when something caught my eye.

Just for a split second, out of the corner of my vision—a flash of silver.

I wasn’t sure if I imagined it or if something actually glowed, but when I turned my head to get a better look—it was gone.

I frowned. At first, I thought maybe it had come from Rhea, but… no.

I must have just been seeing things. Shaking it off, I turned back to Leander—who, oddly enough, wasn’t looking at me.

He was staring at Rhea.

She, however, was still looking down, lost in her own thoughts.

For a moment, he just stood there, watching her. Not in a weird way, but… like something about her caught him off guard.

Then, finally, he spoke again.

"Where are your parents?"

I pointed toward the gathering. "Over there."

Leander followed my gaze, his expression unreadable.

Then, after a beat, he turned back to me. "Can I ask you something?"

I glanced at Rhea—who had now perked up, clearly listening.

Leander looked me dead in the eye. "Personally, do you want to train under me?" His tone was quick, direct, no nonsense. "You can say no. Honestly."

Like hell I was saying no.

Training under him meant I could travel, see more of the world, and—most importantly—get stronger.

I nodded enthusiastically.

Leander smirked. "I’ll take that as a yes."

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Leander went off to talk to my parents, leaving me and Rhea sitting on the park bench, watching as the festival wound down.

We ended up talking more about her hometown.

Apparently, she had childhood friends—people she once played and laughed with. But her whole family, along with her nephew, had been sold into slavery due to… well, circumstances she didn’t elaborate on.

I didn’t press.

Some things didn’t need to be asked outright.

Then, the final event of the Days of Renewal arrived—The Final Bell.

It was the last moment of the festival, the grand closing act where the entire kingdom came together for a final blessing.

A massive bell rang throughout the city, its deep chimes signaling the true turn of the year.

Some people shouted their resolutions into the air, declaring their goals for the new year. Others exchanged symbolic gifts—things like charred wood for protection or candles for guidance.

As the event was about to unfold, I looked up and saw my parents walking toward us, Leander trailing alongside them.

"Pretty tiring, huh?" my father asked out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, my mother took a seat beside Rhea, immediately striking up a conversation with her.

"Absolutely, Father," I said, stretching out my arms. "But still, it was enjoyable."

My father took a deep breath. "Then… about your training with Leander."

Ah. So that’s what they talked about earlier.

I had been hoping—praying, really—that they’d agree. But at the same time, I knew how hard it must be for parents to just let their kid wander off to train.

Still, even though the thought of leaving them felt a little sad, a part of me wanted this.

I needed it.

My father looked me straight in the eye. "Your mother and I have agreed to let you train."

My heart skipped a beat.

"But," he continued, his voice firm, "on one condition."

I tensed.

"You take care of yourself. You don’t take this for granted. You rest when you need to. You don’t push yourself until you break. In short—don’t be reckless."

I blinked. That was… actually solid advice.

And honestly? It hit home. In my previous life, I learned that lesson the hard way—too late to do anything about it.

But this time around?

Yeah. This time, I’d do things differently.

I nodded. "I will, Father."

And then—

The bell rang.

Its deep, resounding chime echoed across the city, marking the official start of the new year—Jorlen 1, Year 994.

Or, in Earth terms, January 1st.

What a timing, huh?

And honestly? What a way to end it.