Pavan stood in front of the railing and watched the spring rain that was falling over the holy city of Torra.

Despite the beginning of spring as well as the news of the returning emperor’s victory, most of the Torra was shrouded in a strangely quiet atmosphere.

No matter how much the Imperial Palace tried to stop the news from spreading, secret rumors that couldn’t be stopped had started circulating around the city. The rumors said that the emperor who had returned from the West was critically injured.

“Aren’t you cold, Captain Pavan?”

Pavan turned his head toward the voice. Heretia was approaching him on crutches with an umbrella in her hand.

“It seems like you’ve gotten used to using the crutches now, Miss Heretia.”

“Yes. I think I’ll be able to stand up without crutches as long as I’m not moving around. I can probably even use my crutches to hit someone too,” Heretia said as she raised her crutch and shook it.

Pavan silently smiled at Heretia.

Heretia, who had limped on her crutches and approached the railing, turned her gaze to where Pavan had been looking earlier.

“The rain has melted all the snow. Winter really must be coming to an end,” Heretia said

“I still think it’s too early to sow the seeds, though,” Pavan answered.

“Whether the seeds are sowed or not, spring is still spring only when flowers bloom and snow melts.”

Pavan looked back at Heretia. Heretia had taken her eyes off Torra before he knew it and was staring at him. Pavan clicked...