Betty felt no small amount of hurt from the fact that Casey had hidden from her how much she had been struggling recently.
As Casey’s assistant, Betty had stayed by her side longer than anyone.
They bickered all the time, but if Casey had asked her for help because she was having a hard time, Betty would have listened to everything while grumbling.
‘But Casey didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to worry Betty in her own way.’
Casey Selmore was a woman with a very strong sense of pride.
She would never want to admit to anyone that she had grown this weak.
If anything, because she was close to Betty, she probably didn’t want to become a burden to her.
‘It happened before too. When she was hit by the Apostle’s mental attack, Casey spent days bedridden in agony.’
Even then, Casey didn’t ask Betty for help.
Betty, unable to watch any longer, had been the one to call Ludger herself.
Thinking back to that incident too, Betty must have been hurt quite a bit.
That’s how relationships work.
Even when two people care for each other, if they fail to communicate, even trivial things can drive them apart.
Like two gears rotating in the same direction but failing to lock into place.
‘A relationship being hurt or broken doesn’t always happen because of negative emotions.’
Sometimes people misunderstand precisely because they’re trying to be considerate of one another, and the relationship ends up damaged.
It’s not about who did something wrong—just a difference in how they approach things.
‘If you interfere between strangers, it’s needless meddling.’
But if something like this happens between people who truly know each other, you can’t just ignore it.
The old Ludger never would have stepped in.
He’d had no room to spare for advising anyone; he’d been too busy striving toward his goals.
But Ludger had achieved what he wanted, and he no longer had to live as urgently as before.
Maybe this too was one of the positive changes a person gains as they grow.
“Betty. As you know, Casey is a woman with very strong pride.”
“That... she is.”
As someone who had been watching Casey from up close, Betty knew her better than anyone.
“Casey would never tell others she’s carrying that kind of anxiety. The closer the relationship, the harder she’d try to hide it.”
“That’s...”
“Then let me ask the opposite. Does Casey’s family—Marias Selmore—know about this?”
Betty thought for a moment before answering.
“I don’t think so.”
“Right. She hid it even from her family. The fact that you didn’t know is nothing to be disappointed about.”
“But... she told you, Mr. Ludger.”
“She originally had no intention of telling me. I dug for it deliberately, and she finally spoke. That’s different.”
“......For Casey to actually say something—if you only poked a little and she spilled everything, that’s surprising.”
“Perhaps deep down she wanted someone to hear her story. But even so, I don’t think what I said fully erased her anxiety.”
Ludger looked straight at Betty.
“Casey must have gone back home. If you meet her again when you return, can you ask her about it yourself this time?”
“Me? But...”
“With her pride, she’ll try to hide it at first. But she’ll open up eventually. Especially if it’s you.”
Ludger spoke with certainty.
Betty had been afraid that Casey might feel uncomfortable around her. If he didn’t give her a push here, she wouldn’t act.
“More than anything, aren’t you the greatest assistant who’s stayed closest to her? A detective needs an assistant.”
“...Alright. If you say it like that, I’ll at least try.”
Betty nodded, her expression much softer.
Ludger’s advice had worked.
“Good. By the way, is everyone supposed to gather here now?”
“Well, except for Phantos.”
Alex added an explanation.
“That guy’s probably wandering somewhere looking for a great prey again. He likes that kind of thing.”
“Very Phantos-like. Well, just because I came back doesn’t mean he’d show up himself.”
Even if they did meet, Phantos wouldn’t be the type to talk long.
If he confirmed Ludger had returned, that would be enough.
Their personalities were simple, so that alone was sufficient.
“I’ll have to go look for Phantos later.”
“I’m not doubting the leader’s ability, but do you even know where he is?”
“I can guess the general area. And if I decide to find him, it won’t be impossible.”
Ludger didn’t explain further.
Alex didn’t pry either. With Ludger, he’d use some outrageous method to locate Phantos anyway.
“Alright then! Since we finally got together, let’s at least have a drink!”
Hans raised his glass for a toast.
Ludger chuckled, then tapped his own glass against Hans’s.
With a clear clink, the reunion party began.
* * *
The small but warm gathering came to an end.
As much as they wanted to stay up all night, three years was not a trivial span of time.
Some had places they needed to return to, so the party ended quickly.
Alex and Bellaruna left, and Arfa and Betty were taken by Violetta.
Hans, who insisted on staying to the end, had his head smacked by Seridan before being dragged out by force.
Before leaving, a thoroughly drunk Hans asked in a blurry voice:
“Boss... you’re not gonna leave again, are you?”
Even though they had already resolved everything, he asked anyway—that was how much anxiety had built up inside him.
Hans was afraid.
Afraid that one day, Ludger might suddenly disappear somewhere again.
Afraid that this moment, laughing and chatting like this, would turn out to be nothing more than a midnight dream.
Normally he’d suppress and hide such feelings, but alcohol and stirred emotions made them spill out.
“No, no. Forget I asked something weird.”
“Hans.”
As Hans hurried to gloss over his question, Ludger spoke gently.
“This is where I belong.”
“......”
“Does that answer you?”
Hans said nothing, but when Ludger spoke those words, the sudden brightness in Hans’s expression was answer enough.
Seridan dragged Hans away. The height difference was so extreme that Hans’s legs dragged along the floor, but she didn’t seem to care.
He was used to it by now.
The tavern left behind was silent.
As though the warmth from earlier had been a lie, the air felt cold.
But Ludger didn’t feel lonely.
If he felt regret now, then he could just meet them more often later.
Their story wasn’t over.
This was just a comma—after which their journey would continue.
With a gesture, Ludger tidied up the lightly disordered room.
With a bit of mana, the bottles returned to the shelves, and the glasses stacked neatly.
Leaving the tavern, Ludger locked the door securely and walked down the street.
He still needed to return, since he was staying in the imperial castle.
He enjoyed the cool night air that brushed against his skin with each step.
The streets at night were quiet and empty—an atmosphere he wouldn’t have savored in the past.
Ludger closed his eyes and immersed himself in a brief silence.
Even though the seal above his head was working properly, it was true that the voices whispering to him had grown fewer than before.
His revenge against Lumenis was over, and because he had carried out their proxy will, the imprisoned gods no longer harassed him.
Their grievances might linger, but they clearly had reached some agreement among themselves.
In addition, the distant voices whispering from afar were being blocked by them as well.
Of course, that didn’t mean communication was cut off completely.
If he opened the gate, they would again take an interest in him and reach out.
But Ludger had no intention of doing so.
Though he couldn’t guarantee he’d never need it, for now, he wanted to enjoy the peace.
“I thought I might be keeping someone waiting too long, but it seems he left first.”
He had warned that the meeting might take a while, but Passius had apparently gone ahead.
Was that okay? Ludger supposed it was, because something—or rather, someone—appeared before him and made the reason clear.
Someone suddenly appeared in a spot where there had been nothing.
Even in the dark night, long ash-gray hair fluttered down to her waist, unmistakably visible.
The appearance of a woman far more beautiful and mature than before {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} resembled the one Ludger had once held guilt toward.
“What brings you here, Rine.”
“You seem quite drunk.”
“Well, I can’t deny I drank a bit too much.”
“That’s unexpected. I thought you’d never touch alcohol.”
“Why would that be? Becoming an adult means you drink whether you like it or not. Though this time I drank because I wanted to.”
“Really? Then maybe I should try drinking too.”
Rine stepped closer to Ludger.
“I’ll escort you back.”
“You’re volunteering to be my guide to the imperial castle?”
“I already told Passius.”
“That man.”
Ludger imagined Passius nodding enthusiastically and couldn’t help a small laugh.
“Alright. I’ll rely on you.”
“Then, shall we walk?”
“With your ability, you could just teleport us instantly, couldn’t you?”
As someone who handled spatial magic, Rine could travel anywhere across the continent if she wished.
There was no need to walk through the capital’s streets to reach the castle.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had time alone. Jumping straight there would ruin the mood, don’t you think?”
Rine spoke with confidence, and with a playful smile.
Ludger stared blankly at her smile.
“Is something on my face?”
“No. I just... you’ve grown a lot.”
Rine resembled her mother greatly.
Because of that, Ludger’s voice dropped slightly—her appearance now touched memories of painful times.
“I am quite pretty, you know? There are lots of guys out there who say they like me.”
“And your personality’s gotten bold.”
“Hehe. Well, I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I was too busy interpreting and analyzing the magic formulas you passed on to me.”
With a voice full of regret, Rine muttered, “It still took me three years, though.”
“You didn’t just stop—you advanced further. The fact that it took three years means it took ‘only’ three years. You should be proud.”
“I wonder how things would’ve been if I’d been faster.”
“It wouldn’t have changed. Whether fast or slow, the result’s the same.”
“That’s true. Nothing changes.”
Rine stared at him directly.
“So stop making that face.”
“.......”
“I’ve forgiven everything from that day. You didn’t do anything wrong. No one was at fault. It was just... how things were. That’s all.”
“Rine, I...”
“I want you to be happy now. Because suffering is awful, right? If you suffer, I suffer. But you know what I hate even more? Seeing you look at me with that expression.”
Ludger felt as if he had been struck with a hammer.
That expression—he didn’t even know what look he was making. Likely something stained with guilt.
Maybe clinging to guilt was his own way of giving himself permission to hold these feelings for Rine.
“I see. It won’t be easy, but...”
“If you don’t want to, then just don’t.”
She said it lightly, but the meaning ran deep.
Some might criticize simplifying something so complex, but Ludger thought differently.
The more complicated the issue, the simpler the starting point had to be.
Simplicity might sound trivial, but the strength it holds is immense.
But simplicity only has meaning when backed by a strong, sincere heart—something Rine possessed more than anyone.
“I see. I really do rely on you.”
“I relied on you a lot too. That’s why I help you. I received help, so I give help. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“What’s obvious isn’t always easy.”
“But you still do it. Because I learned that from someone—the adult I wanted to become.”
Ludger couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Hahaha. Right. You’ve finally become an adult.”
“Yes. I’m an adult now. Not a child anymore.”
Rine stopped him by his arm and made him face her properly.
“And because of that, I have something I want to tell you.”
