Lucas unfolded the paper and read it in silence.

A snake venom?

Viperpink…?

Hmm… what a strange snake name.

He repeated it once more in his head. Viperpink.

But the atmosphere around him was far too calm to dwell on it for long.

Beneath the tree, Silvara was already kneeling, holding the pointed white stone as she slowly taught Anya how to spell. Her voice was flat and patient, her rhythm steady. Anya gave small nods every time she managed to read a letter correctly.

Lucas folded the paper again and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

He took off his coat and turned to Silvara.

"Hold this for a bit."

Silvara took the coat on reflex. "Where are you going?"

Lucas glanced toward the field. "To work."

Without any further explanation, he raised his hand.

Light gathered—

The Great Hoe appeared in his grasp.

Lucas stepped onto the red soil, still damp with moisture, then casually removed his footwear at the edge of the field. His bare feet pressed directly into the cold earth.

Geralt, who was already down in the ditch, looked over in surprise. "Young Master…?"

Lucas climbed down beside him. "Move over a bit."

A short while later—

The sounds of hoes, soil, and muddy water overlapped with one another.

Lucas and Geralt worked side by side. Their movements were not awkward; the rhythm was fast and efficient. Every so often, Geralt let out a small laugh when Lucas commented on the ditch's shape being "too honest."

"If a rat passes through here, it'll definitely think twice," Lucas said flatly.

Geralt laughed. "Or just move to another field altogether, Young Master."

Silvara watched from a distance.

The sight—

A young master working in the field, barefoot, hands stained with soil, sharing light laughter with a farmer.

She fell silent.

Old memories surfaced on their own.

Spring.

Her father used to do the same—sometimes going down to the fields himself, he said, to prepare for winter. He never complained. Never looked "noble."

Silvara lowered her gaze, her fingers unconsciously tightening around Lucas's coat.

If what I'm seeing now were his real face… then surely—

She cut off her own thoughts.

Her face felt warm.

Anya looked over. "Oh, Miss Silvara? Are you unwell?"

Silvara flinched lightly. "No."

She took a breath, then looked at the black board. "It seems this board is already full."

"Un!" Anya nodded obediently. She picked up the rough lump attached to the back of the board and began erasing the writing one by one.

Her mother's name.

Her father's name.

And the last inscription—

Iron Knight.

Observe.

The letters slowly faded away, leaving the black board clean, ready to be filled once more.

Midday arrived.

The sun had already climbed high into the sky, its heat no longer as gentle as it had been in the morning. Lucas sat at the edge of the field, his back resting against a tree trunk, his breathing slightly heavy. Sweat dampened his neck and temples, while both of his feet were covered in dried, cracked mud.

He lowered his gaze and wiggled his toes slightly.

"…Where can we clean this?" he asked flatly.

Geralt glanced at the state of Lucas's feet, then gave a small smile. "There's a small river not far from here, Young Master. We usually wash our feet there."

Lucas nodded. "Let's go."

Not long after, the two of them left the field and headed toward the river.

—

A short while later—

A horse-drawn carriage approached. There was nothing dangerous or troublesome about it; it was an open-roof carriage driven by a cheerful maid.

The carriage stopped at the edge of the field.

Liona stepped down, parked the carriage, and looked around. She took a basket from the back of the carriage.

She was just about to speak—

When her gaze caught Anya sitting beneath the tree, and Silvara standing near the blackboard.

"…Hmm?"

She turned to Silvara. "Lady Silvara, where is Young Master?"

Silvara replied calmly, "He is cleaning his mud-covered feet."

Liona nodded lightly. "I see."

At that moment—

Anya's stomach let out a soft growl.

She stared at the basket in Liona's hands. Her eyes followed every small movement. The scent of bread and warm food clearly reached her nose.

But Anya's expression immediately stiffened.

Her mother's words from earlier that morning surfaced clearly in her mind.

Don't trouble Young Master or act as you please!

THERE IS NOTHING FREE!

Anya swallowed.

With slow, careful movements, she reached into her small pocket… and took out a single copper coin. The coin she had received from Lucas yesterday.

She clenched it tightly, then stepped toward Liona.

Her eyes glistened.

Both Liona and Silvara were taken aback.

"Anya?" Liona asked. "What's wrong?"

Anya stopped right in front of Liona, then bowed deeply—far too deeply for a small child.

With a dramatic tone, she raised the coin with both hands.

"O Lady Maid," she said earnestly,

"I offer my first wage to pay for today's tasty bread."

She lifted her head, her eyes watery yet full of resolve.

"Please allow me… to taste it."

Silvara lightly covered her mouth, holding back a reaction.

Liona froze for a few seconds—then the corner of her lips twitched as she struggled to suppress the laughter that nearly escaped.

---

Lucas and Geralt stood at the edge of the small river, clear water flowing calmly over the stones.

Lucas lifted his foot from the water—then accidentally stepped on something hard.

"Hm?"

He looked down.

A small white stone.

"…Oh. This stone."

Geralt glanced down and immediately nodded. "Yes, Young Master. It's just an ordinary stone that Anya calls a magic stone."

Lucas shifted his foot slightly so he wouldn't step on it again.

Geralt let out a small laugh, but another thought crossed his mind.

How much is the Young Master going to cut my wages?

Oof… lads… those two coins a day will become just a memory.

Before long, the two of them finished cleaning their feet. Lucas put his footwear back on, and Geralt stood up straight as well, patting his still-damp trousers.

"Let's head back," Lucas said briefly.

Geralt nodded. "Understood, Young Master."

They had only taken a few steps—

When someone stood in their way.

A man in simple clothing. From the cut and condition of his clothes, it was clear he was a commoner.

Lucas frowned slightly. "…What is it?"

Then he remembered.

This man—

The one who had been the first to kneel and apologize during the butt bandit incident.

The man swallowed, then opened his mouth hesitantly.

"Young Master… may I—"

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