A Date?

"You know…" she started, voice quieter now, "when I awakened my class yesterday, I… I was really happy. But at the same time…"

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "You didn't look unhappy."

"I wasn't." She smiled, then looked down at their hands. "But when I saw your result…"

He tensed a little.

"I hated it," she said softly. "Not because you were weak. But because I knew what it meant for you. That the academy wouldn't even look at you. That they'd shove you aside like you were nothing."

She looked up, her expression fierce now.

"But you're not nothing, Lucien."

The way she said it — like it was a truth that burned in her soul — made his chest ache.

He tried to deflect, as always.

"You say that now. Wait until I'm the only guy in the region still using a wooden sword while the rest of you are flying around on dragons."

Emily frowned.

"You think I care about flying on dragons?"

"I mean, it is kind of cool."

She punched his shoulder lightly. "Lucien."

"Okay, okay." He chuckled. "I get it."

She looked at him again, and this time her expression was… different.

More vulnerable.

"I'm leaving for the academy tomorrow," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know when I'll be back."

Lucien's hand tightened slightly around hers.

"I know."

"I'm scared."

That surprised him. "You? The S-rank prodigy?"

"I'm scared I'll come back and you won't be here."

His heart stopped for a moment.

"You're one of the only things I have left, you know?" she whispered. "I don't want to lose you."

Lucien slowly lifted his free hand and gently brushed a strand of silver hair behind her ear.

"You're not going to lose me, Em."

She looked into his eyes, searching for something.

And then — softly, tentatively — he leaned in.

Just enough to press a kiss to her forehead.

It wasn't fiery, or steamy, or dramatic.

It was gentle.

When he pulled back, she had her eyes closed, cheeks flushed.

"…I'll hold you to that," she murmured.

Emily's vulnerable front melted away so quickly, Lucien almost questioned if it had ever been there.

She grinned and spun on her heel, dragging him along by the hand, her silver hair swaying like a silk ribbon in the wind.

"There," she said, pointing dramatically at the town in the distance. The rooftops of the marketplace peeked over the rolling hills, painted in the colors of spring under the sun.

"The town?" Lucien blinked. "What about it?"

"Since I'm leaving tomorrow, let's spend all the time we have on an outing!" she announced proudly, like it was the most obvious and logical thing in the world.

Lucien hesitated. "I don't know if that's — "

She turned around and gave him a look.

That look.

Those big, watery puppy eyes. The quivering lower lip.

The kind of expression that could wage war against empires and win without shedding a single drop of blood.

Lucien let out a sigh that sounded like a man who had just lost the last shreds of his resistance.

"…Fine. But I should at least change into something — "

"Nope!" she interrupted, tugging him harder. "You look hot in that!"

She stopped, her words catching up to her mouth, and her entire face turned a vibrant shade of red. Her hand flew to her lips.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Hot, huh?"

"Y-You misheard! I meant… uh… not — you look not hot! Very average! Terribly plain!"

"You're really bad at this," he chuckled, letting himself be dragged along.

The path down from the Gravemont estate into the town was lined with soft green grass and wildflowers.

Birds chirped above them, and the breeze was just cool enough to be refreshing.

The occasional guards at checkpoints nodded respectfully at Emily, who was well known —even among the town's commoners — for her talent and kindness.

Eventually, the dirt road became cobblestone. The town itself was lively.

Vendors shouted over one another in the market square, peddling fruits, armor polish, magic-infused baubles, and even perfume said to increase one's charm by 5% — a scam, Lucien was certain, but amusing all the same.

He let her lead him to one of the cozier corners of the town, toward a small tavern with an elegant sign that read {The Glowing Ember}.

The moment they walked in, the scent of roasted meat and sweet ale hit Lucien's nose.

Inside, the tavern was surprisingly peaceful for midday.

A couple of adventurers sat in a booth nursing their drinks, and a bard in the corner plucked gently at a lute.

The barkeep, a burly man with a soft beard and a friendly smile, waved them in like they were regulars.

"Take a seat, lovebirds!" he called.

Lucien didn't even have the chance to respond before Emily gave him a smug grin. "Lovebirds, huh?"

"I feel like I should be worried about how much you're enjoying that," Lucien muttered as they took a corner booth.

They ordered quickly — beef stew with warm bread and some sparkling berry cider. As they waited, Lucien leaned back in the chair, finally relaxing.

"You've changed a lot since yesterday," Emily said after a moment, resting her chin on her hands.

Lucien paused. "That obvious, huh?"

"Very. You were… broken yesterday. Now you're smiling again." She looked at him intently. "What happened?"

Lucien shrugged lightly. "I just… decided that if I couldn't be the main character in someone else's story, I'd become the hero of mine."

Emily's eyes sparkled. "That was surprisingly cool."

"I can be cool," he said defensively.

"You also tripped while walking over the garden stones."

"…That doesn't count."

Their food arrived just in time to save Lucien from further humiliation. The stew was hearty, the bread soft, and the cider refreshing.

As they ate, they talked about everything — how dull some noble balls were, which classes they thought were overrated, and how the old potion seller in the alley behind the market had once accidentally sold a bottle of concentrated laxative thinking it was a stamina elixir.

Emily laughed so hard, she nearly spilled her cider.

Lucien smiled.

This — this was the kind of memory he'd always skipped in the game.

The downtime. The warmth between people. He'd always fast-forwarded to the action and power-ups.

But this… this felt real.

After finishing up, they stepped out into the fresh air, and Emily stretched her arms with a satisfied sigh. "We should do this more often."

"Not sure how, when you're off to the academy tomorrow," Lucien reminded her, hands in his coat pockets.

"Well then, let's make the most of the time we have left." She glanced at him with a playful glint in her eye. "Wanna see something cool?"

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Depends. Does it involve summoning a fireball in public and terrifying the locals?"

"Just a little fireball," she said innocently.

Before he could protest, she lifted her hand slightly.

The air shimmered above her palm, and a small, dancing flame burst into life — no larger than a candle flame, but impossibly bright.

Lucien watched, mesmerized, as the fireball spun lazily in her palm like a curious spirit.

"Still think I should've gotten the D-rank class?" she teased.

Lucien grinned. "I mean… mine probably has hidden depth."

"Oh? What's it called again?"

"…Shadow Courier."

Emily blinked. "Okay, wow. That is tragic."

"Thank you for the support."

She giggled, then dismissed the fireball with a flick of her fingers. "It's a rare talent to be able to make me laugh like this, you know?"

Lucien smiled. "I'll take it as my first skill."

They wandered back through the market slowly, the sun dipping just a bit lower on the horizon. Emily didn't let go of his hand, and Lucien didn't want her to.

Not yet.

For a day that started with hesitation and reluctance, it had turned into one of his most cherished memories.

And beneath all the laughter and the warmth, Lucien knew — this was the last quiet moment before things began to shift, the official acts would start and he needed to grow strong quick.