I forgot one important thing.

That thought rose slowly, the way a heavy tide creeps back.

I stood there, quiet inside myself, feeling the weight of everything that had changed.

Now that I've evolved, it is technically not my problem to help Maria anymore.

The Quest was done.

That truth was clear, sharp, and logical.

But… then, just as quickly, another image pushed its way forward.

A memory of Maria's face.

I remembered it too clearly, as if it had been burned into the back of my eyes.

The way she stood there when she asked me for help.

Her hands trembling, fingers curled together like she was holding herself in one piece.

Her shoulders were stiff.

As if she was trying to look brave.

Even though fear was already spilling through the cracks.

Her lips had parted like she wanted to say.

Something stronger, something confident.

But… the words never came out that way.

Her eyes were the worst part.

They weren't dramatic or loud.

They didn't beg in an ugly way.

They just… looked at me. Wide, honest, and desperate.

Eyes filled with a kind of hope that had no right to exist anymore.

Yet, it stubbornly refused to die.

The kind of look that says, I don't know what else to do.

I'm afraid, but I believe you might not turn away.

I believe you would help me

I could still see how her brows pulled together.

And how her breath caught when she spoke.

She had been pleading without realizing it.

As if her pride had already lost the battle inside her chest.

That face wasn't trying to trap me.

It wasn't trying to manipulate me. It was simply asking.

And that was why it hurt.

I exhaled slowly. I can only help her now.

Because it would be cowardly to run now.

That truth settled deeper than any excuse I could make.

I had the power to walk away, yes.

But power doesn't erase responsibility;

It sharpens it. Turning my back now wouldn't make me free.

It would just make me smaller.

Plus, once things are over…

I will take a visit to this Duskport.

The thought came quietly, without urgency.

It was a promise I didn't need to say out loud yet.

Something for later. Something after everything settled.

With that, I reached for the cup of water resting nearby.

My fingers wrapped around it, the cool surface grounding me.

I took a small sip, letting it slide down my throat.

Then set the cup down carefully on the table.

The sound it made against the surface.

It was a soft, final, voice.

I turned and slowly walked to the bed.

My steps were unhurried, tired in a good way.

The kind of tiredness that comes after decisions have been made.

The room was quiet, wrapped in a gentle stillness.

I pulled back the covers and slipped beside Tiamat.

She was already there, her presence warm and steady.

There was no need for words.

No movement beyond the natural shift as I settled in.

The bed dipped slightly under my weight.

The fabric cools against my skin.

I lay still, listening to the calm rhythm of her breathing.

And feeling the shared warmth spread slowly, naturally.

The world faded. Thoughts loosened their grip.

And just like that, we both slept.

The next morning came gently.

At first, I was aware of touch before sound.

Someone was shaking my shoulders.

Not roughly, but insistently.

As if they were afraid I might vanish if they stopped.

I groaned quietly and shifted, my eyes still heavy.

The room was brighter now.

Sunlight spilling in through unseen spaces, warming the air.

I opened my eyes.

Maria was there.

She stood close, leaning slightly forward.

She was holding a tray with both hands.

Her hair caught the morning light.

And her expression was a mix of nervousness and hope.

On the tray were cups of coffee and milk.

The steam rising softly, carrying warmth with it.

There were cookies too, arranged carefully.

It had different shapes and sizes.

Their surfaces are golden and slightly cracked.

The smell hit me all at once.

Rich coffee, deep and comforting.

It was mixed with the sweet, buttery scent of freshly baked cookies.

There was warmth in it, not just heat.

But also effort.

The kind of smell that fills a space and makes it feel lived in.

The milk added a soft, calming, familiar scent.

It was the scent of someone trying their best.

Then she spoke.

With a blushing face, her cheeks tinted a soft red, she said,

"Kalia teaches me to make those for you.

I hope you like it."

Her voice was quiet but clear.

She held the tray a little closer.

As if offering it meant offering a piece of herself.

I nodded at her, slowly, carefully.

I wanted to go and wash first.

The thought crossed my mind plainly.

But when I looked at her expectant eyes.

They were bright and searching.

I couldn't find it in my heart to say no.

So I reached out.

Taking a cup of coffee with one hand and a cookie with the other.

I brought them closer.

The coffee was warm against my palm.

I dipped the cookie into the cup.

Watching as it darkened slightly.

It kept soaking up the liquid.

Then I brought it to my mouth and took a bite.

An explosion happened on my tongue buds.

The taste spread instantly.

Warm, rich coffee mixed with sweet, soft cookies.

The texture is perfect, not too soggy, not too dry.

The sweetness wasn't overwhelming.

It was balanced, thoughtful.

Each bite felt deliberate.

As if she had paid attention to every detail.

My eyes widened slightly without me realizing it.

I chewed slowly, letting the flavor settle.

I was surprised by how good it was.

There was comfort in it, familiarity.

And something else too—effort.

And learning and care.

It filled my mouth and lingered, leaving warmth behind.

It was almost as good as Kalia's own cooking.

And she managed to do that in a day…

As expected from a genius.

After all, she could reverse engineer a whole technique on the fly.

I cleared my throat and looked at her.

Then meeting her gaze fully now.

"It tastes surprisingly good.

Best cookies ever."

The reaction was instant.

Her face lit up with joy.

Like a light had been switched on inside her.

Her eyes shone, her shoulders relaxed.

And a smile spread across her face, wide and genuine.

It wasn't restrained or polite.

It was pure happiness.

The kind that doesn't try to hide.

For a moment, the room felt lighter.

But I didn't forget why we were here.

I shifted slightly.

Setting the cup and cookie back on the tray.

And addressed more important matters.

My voice was calm, steady.

It carried weight without needing to raise it.

"We need to make a plan with Lucy.

To infiltrate the hydro kingdom and finally.

Take down both Leviathan and the supreme empress."

The words settled between us.

Maria nodded at me.

Her expression turned serious, focused.

There was no hesitation in her movement.

No fear in her eyes now, just understanding.

She adjusted her grip on the tray and turned.

She walked beside me as we headed downstairs together.

Our steps echoed softly, the air changing as we moved lower.

Only one important thing I forgot.

That…where Tiamat gone?

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.