Navia buried her forehead deeply in Creed's shoulder and continued speaking.
"When I'm sad, just come and hug me like this."
Creed felt his head go numb, as if it had broken down.
He wanted to respond, but his voice wouldn't come out. No, he couldn't even open his mouth.
Opening his mouth felt like his heart would leap out, and that scared him.
He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and barely managed to reply.
"Uh-huh..."
His ears, barely visible through his black hair, were bright red as if scorched.
Creed cautiously tried to hug Navia back.
Then Navia suddenly pulled away and inspected Creed's hands and legs.
White Moon could have healed him for sure, but she was worried.
"How can I be happy when you come back injured like this? Even with all this, you're much more precious."
"Me?"
Creed's eyes widened in surprise.
Navia chided him with a look that said, 'Why are you so surprised?'
"Of course, Creed. You're my brother."
"Brother..."
He had always loved hearing that word, but today it didn't sound as pleasant as usual.
Creed felt even more unsettled.
Navia sighed deeply and rubbed Creed's cheek.
"We need to change your wet clothes quickly. And then have some warm cocoa..."
The agonizing feelings of missing their father who had left seemed a step further away. It was because she was so startled by Creed.
In Navia's heart, it was still raining, but she could hold her ground.
She realized she was okay because she had Creed, the sun. She also realized she still had many family members left, and that was a great comfort.
"Come."
Navia extended her hand.
Creed hesitated but then lightly grabbed her hand.
Navia thought his weak grip was because of the cold and firmly grasped it.
Creed felt even more broken.
Why did he suddenly feel awkward around his noona? He couldn't understand.
But he didn't dislike it. He was just embarrassed and confused, unsure of what to do.
'Maybe it's because she looks sad, is that why?'
Ah. That's why his heart felt uncomfortable. An indescribable feeling had arisen because of that.
Creed had no idea that his ears and neck were redder than the cherries he brought.
He couldn't notice such changes because his heartbeat was too loud, and he couldn't focus.
Or maybe it was because her eyes, red yet resiliently shining despite the tears, were too dazzling.
* * *
Spring passed.
Seasons without their father passed.
A year later, just as Lark had said, a war broke out with the desert empire of Bakia.
The empire won and celebrated the victory. Creed participated in a magic combat tournament hosted by the emperor.
It was the year Navia turned eleven and Creed ten.
Unlike the Duchy of Eseled, which was quietly passing its days after Lark fell asleep, the world was noisy.
The Eden Empire, with its strong military power, won the war against Bakia and gained a huge amount of reparations.
Yulrich hosted a festival to celebrate the victory.
"A hero worthy of the great Eden Empire will be chosen!"
Thus, the combat tournament began.
When a boy in a black robe and mask appeared in the Colosseum, where renowned magicians were eagerly participating, everyone thought he was just a spectator.
But when he said, "I want to register."
The official in charge frowned.
"Kid, this is a place for those who risk their lives. You seem to be a magician, but a child like you can't compare to adult magicians."
That was a reasonable point.
"I'll sign the consent form for a life-or-death match, so it doesn't matter, right?"
The boy's voice was calm, with a hint of shallow annoyance.
The official snorted and handed him the consent form.
"If dying is your wish, I won't stop you."
'If this reckless kid becomes a laughing stock and entertains the audience, that would be perfect.'
"Name?"
"Creed."
"Last name?"
"I don't have one."
Many competitors, eager to create a mysterious image, chose not to reveal their origins or used pseudonyms. This often garnered them greater popularity among the people.
'They're all style, no substance,' he thought.
"Let's proceed with the process, let's measure your magical power."
The official, expecting the boy to likely fail at this stage, pulled out a spherical magic power measuring device.
The device was, as the name suggests, a tool to quantify the amount of magical power a person possessed.
Black indicated no magical power.
Blue signified a low-level mage.
Up to this point, no tournament eligibility was granted.
Red was for intermediate mages, and gold for advanced mages.
For young boys like Creed, only a gold reading in the magical power measurement granted them the bare minimum eligibility to participate.
Even then, such a youngster could easily be killed in an instant by a seasoned intermediate mage.
Unlike others who took deep breaths or shouted out of nowhere, Creed nonchalantly placed his hand over the measuring device.
And then,
"Silver?"
The measurement device was emitting a mysterious silver light, reminiscent of the clouds where the gods were said to play.
Silver, a color said to have been seen only among the great magicians of ancient times.
Creed dropped his hand.
Since it was a quiet time of day, there was no one at the reception desk other than the staff, so there was no commotion.
"Silver, to think that this color really exists..."
The staff, with a dazed expression, stared at the measurement device, then jumped in surprise when he noticed Creed watching quietly.
"Oh, please take your participant badge."
His tone had quickly become respectful.
Creed took the badge.
"Your participant number is 512. You may now enter the Colosseum and begin the preliminary round."
Nod.
Without a word, Creed headed to the Colosseum, showing his badge and entering.
As a boy cloaked in a black robe appeared inside the Colosseum, he inevitably drew attention.
The magicians twitched their eyebrows.
"What's this now?"
"Why has a kid entered?"
Those who had come to the Colosseum, hoping to win the title and the riches that came with it for a dramatic turnaround in their lives, did not look kindly upon the unexpected arrival of a child.
"This is no place for children's games...! Tsk!"
Creed remained silent as if he couldn't hear their voices.
Eventually, it was his turn to compete in the preliminaries. His opponent, a mage, seemed experienced at first glance.
Moreover, his gaze was particularly nasty.
He was delighted to have a child as his preliminary opponent.
'If I just cut off his legs appropriately, he'll think twice before doing anything foolish in the future. Hehe!'
"You must be insane, wanting to die so badly, kid. Go back and suckle some more milk!"
Just as the mage was about to gather his magic, the black-haired boy in front of him disappeared.
The boy's icy voice reached his ears.
"If you don't want your teeth shattered from running your mouth, it's best to stay quiet."
Creed's tone was an exact mimic of Lark's.
"What...!"
Crack-!
"…Aaaargh!"
The mage collapsed to the ground, his leg broken.
The surroundings fell into sudden silence.
It was an unbelievable sight.
To think that the mage was simply overpowered by sheer force? That was impossible!
"Participant number 512 wins!"
After that, Creed continued to overwhelm his opponents with his dominating skills.
Moreover, his hands were so merciless that when someone was matched against Creed, they began to forfeit without even fighting.
From the round of 16 in the tournament, spectators were allowed inside the Colosseum.
"…What's this, it looks like a kid has joined in?"
They noticed a particularly short boy in a black robe among the warriors who had fought their way through the preliminaries.
The inside of the Colosseum quickly filled with a buzz of excitement, which didn't take long to turn into frenzied cheers.
"Woahhhh! The Black Devil!"
"Shatter them all today too, Black Devil!"
Before long, the audience had given the boy a nickname.
A boy in a black robe and black mask, with black hair, thus 'The Black Devil'.
It was a simple nickname, yet it suited him perfectly.
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