Another Day Begins

In one of the small villages scattered across the world, near the seaside, the sun began to shine through the windows of the house that stood farther away, surrounded by the forest.

Inside the house, a young and beautiful girl was already prepared for her daily routine. Her long, dark pink hair had delicate, perpendicular side braids, and at the top of her head, a single strand stood out, forming an ahoge.

Her gentle green eyes matched the emerald green of her outfit: a simple dress that still carried an air of sophistication, contrasting white with dark green details.

She followed her routine diligently—after preparing breakfast, she went to wake up her companions, two boys who could never quite get used to waking up early.

"Good morning, Peter!
Hey, wake up! It's already morning!"

The doors were sliding, in the shoji style, just like the rest of the house, which followed a classic Japanese aesthetic mixed with Gothic elements in some rooms.

Footsteps could be heard from the other side, accompanied by loud yawns. The door slid open, and then Peter appeared.

"Uwaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
Oh, good morning, Arya."

Peter was a boy of medium to tall height, with well-defined muscles and dark brown, slightly unkempt hair, held back by a black headband. His white tank top was all wrinkled, as were his black jeans.

His brown eyes would usually shine in battle, conveying all the energy and determination he carried within him, but at that moment, they were half-closed under the weight of sleep.

"Still not used to it?" asked Arya.

"It's easier for me to stay up until dawn than to wake up with it."

"Aren't you tired of whining about this every day? You need to get used to it soon. Come on, breakfast is already on the table."

"Alright..."

As Peter dragged himself through the corridors like a slug, Arya stood still, staring at Edward's bedroom door, a certain apprehension filling her heart.

After giving her face a few light slaps, she finally gathered her courage and reached for the door, but at that very moment, it suddenly slid open.

On the other side was Edward, who had coincidentally opened the door just as Arya was about to call him. Their eyes met unexpectedly, and both were left stunned by the surprise.

Neither of them had an escape at that moment. The silence could have lasted forever if not for Peter letting out another loud yawn in the background.

"Uhhhhhhh..."

The two took advantage of that yawn, which sounded more like a roar echoing through the house, to shift their gazes in opposite directions.

"Good morning, Arya."

Edward had black eyes, a gaze that at first seemed cold but could convey a special warmth when looking at Arya.

His dark hair was fuller on the left side, with a long strand that stood out. It matched the black jacket he wore, made of soft, flexible fabric, with parallel white bands.

"Good morning, Edward."

There was a hint of embarrassment hidden in Arya's words.

"Breakfast is ready."

"Thanks for making it again..."

"It's no problem, I like cooking…
The others are already waiting for us."

"Let's go then." Edward also felt a little embarrassed.

The two walked awkwardly, Arya leading the way, until they reached the table where the other two residents of the house were seated.

One of them was Peter, and the last was Heinrich Belchior, the mage responsible for protecting the village. Despite his advanced age, he still carried a powerful aura, with a touch of elegance that only a true gentleman could exude.

With one hand, he held his coffee cup, while with the other, he finished combing his gray hair back.

"You’re late." Belchior said with a calm tone.

"Ah, please, don’t start nagging, old man..." Peter retorted.

"Discipline and perseverance are two essential foundations for you to improve through my training."

Belchior put down the comb and struck the table with his clenched fist.

"And it seems you need more discipline, you foul-mouthed brat!"

The old man roared in fury at Peter, who didn’t seem to care.

"Congratulations, Peter. Starting the day with a lecture," Edward said, accompanied by a sigh of disappointment.

"Magic is not a toy for you to play around with. It is a lethal weapon in humanity’s fight against demons…
If you want to develop strong magic, you must cultivate a strong soul!
Experience life with an open heart, let your emotions flow outward—only then will your soul connect with the physical world to activate your magic."

"Eh, pretty sure I’ve heard all this before.
It’s not like we can’t use magic, we’re just not on the old man’s level.
If only a demon appeared so I could test my power, I’m sure I’d take it down!"

"Don’t overestimate yourself just because you have a talent for fighting.
Against a real demon, even the smallest mistake will cost you your life."

"You’re contradicting yourself—the old man himself said that in a real fight, you have to go all out, without fearing death!
What’s that phrase again, memento something?"

"Memento Mori.
That was a term spread by the Magic Academy and used as a motto by the Mercenary Guild."

"That’s right! You were the one who kept repeating it until my ears hurt!"

"These words represent a way of life—'remember death.' They serve as a reminder that all humans are destined to die.
Mors was our creator, and when she wills it, we will return to her embrace.
That’s why there’s no need to fear death—she will welcome all humans with kindness."

"Not all humans." —Arya interrupted, her expression turning serious.

Belchior remained silent.

"Anyway, I’ll never know my true potential until I fight a real demon!" sayed Peter.

"I hate to agree, but he has a point." added Edward. "Since we got here, we’ve been training every day, following this agreement that we can only leave the village when we’re strong enough to survive out there.
But how will we know for sure that we’ve reached that point if demons can’t get past the Utopiosphere?"

"The Utopiosphere’s magical barrier ensures that humans inside it can thrive, just like in this village.
But you can always find smaller demons wandering the forests around here, always looking for an ambush..."

Those words seemed to awaken a memory in the old mage’s mind, and he fell silent again.

Arya tried to shift the topic.

"But you’re doing well in training. Your progress has been very fast.
It’s been just over a month since you arrived, and you already fight impressively!"

"Well, Peter was always the type to get into trouble, always picking fights at school.
While I took kendo classes, so I already had a good grasp of sword fighting. Still, using a real sword is an entirely new experience."

Belchior finally returned to the conversation.

"In terms of raw strength, you two are on par with me—perhaps even above, but I doubt it." The old mage smirked.

"Arrogant old man," Peter wasted no time criticizing.

"The only reason you’re not truly ready yet is that your magic still needs to fully blossom.
Once that happens, you could rise among the strongest mages in the world."

"Ah..." Peter sighed. "So, in the end, it all comes back to training our magic?"

"That’s right."

"Alright, old man. You win."

"Stop calling me old man, you damn brat!"

Breakfast continued with Peter and Belchior’s banter, accompanied by Edward and Arya’s laughter. After finishing their meal, Arya prepared to head into the village.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked.

"We’re running low on supplies, so I’m going to the village to restock."

"Need help like last time?" Edward was ready to assist.

"Ah, I’d actually like that, but it won’t be necessary. Mrs. Casablanca promised to help me.
Besides, you two need to focus on your magic training."

Arya gave a gentle smile, pointing her finger towards the window, where the improvised training field could be seen.

"Ah, well, at least the rest of the village is finally getting along with you."

"That makes me really happy! Mrs. Moretti even gave me a cake last time, remember?"

"Yeah, it was delicious. Thank her for me if you see her."

"For me too!" Peter shouted.

"Hmm, how strange..." Belchior interrupted. "I don’t recall eating a single piece of that cake."

"Eheh… I’d better get going before it gets too late." The girl cut the conversation short and stepped outside, walking along the path through the wheat fields that led to the rest of the village.

"She escaped."

"Yeah, she did."

"You two should’ve run away sooner, but it looks like, once again, she’s leaving you behind."

"Again?" Peter asked.

"Arya… She’s much stronger than us, isn’t she?" There was a hint of unease in Edward’s voice.

"… She is stronger... Even stronger than me."

"Then why don’t we train with her?"

"Kid, don’t be foolish. She would never set foot on a training field, she can’t just go around practicing her magic…
… After all, she is a necromancer."