The sky gradually darkened, and on the streets piled with rubble and broken bricks, only the sign of the bakery remained lit.
The nearby residents lined up to collect overbaked defective goods and useless bread crusts from the bakery.
Aleksei sat in the rocking chair by the shop’s entrance, watching the shop assistants busily slicing and packaging bread, while fiddling with the harmonica in his hands.
He hadn’t played the harmonica in a long time—so long that he couldn’t remember the last time or place he had blown it.
All he recalled was that whenever he played, there would be a group of people gathered around, thanking him for his protection.
But he hadn’t protected anyone.
The beggar who always slept on the bridge was dead.
Aleksei had watched helplessly as the madman raised a broken iron rod, leaning on his cane, and charged into the Skeleton Army—only to be stabbed into a puddle of gore.
He had watched him die like that.
He wanted to raise his shield and rush forward, but when he turned his head and saw the shop that had finally improved, he hesitated.
His shield protected his shop.
“You chose to stand by and watch again.”
A cold, young female voice whispered in his ear.
Aleksei gave a bitter smile.
Was he too tired?
So tired he was hallucinating, hearing Anastasia’s voice?
Even though they hadn’t spoken a word to each other for three years.
“Are you here to judge me, Anastasia?”
“No, I’m here to buy bread.”
The unexpected answer was so real that calling it a hallucination felt wrong.
Aleksei’s gaze snapped back to the present.
Two young girls stood beside him.
One had silver hair and red eyes… If not for those distinctive features, Aleksei might have failed to recognize her as Anastasia.
They had met that morning, yet Aleksei still found it hard to believe his eyes.
She had changed a lot.
Compared to before, she was thinner, but now she knew how to dress well.
The girl holding her hand was Ophelia, a beauty famous throughout the capital, but even standing beside such a stunning woman, Anastasia’s appearance was nothing short of dazzling.
How had he never noticed how beautiful this girl was before?
“If you want bread, line up. The queue next to the one for bread crusts.”
“No need. We want to buy all the bread in your shop.”
All of it. Aleksei almost jumped in shock; he was sure he hadn’t misheard.
“Are you mocking me?”
“You’re not worth my mockery.”
A cold voice came from beside Anastasia. It was the young lady of the Northern Mint speaking.
“This is five Gold Coins—more than enough to buy all the bread in your shop.”
Five Gold Coins dropped onto the ground by Aleksei’s feet as the voice fell.
They were genuine coins, high-quality and minted by the Northern Mint.
“What exactly do you want?”
Aleksei stood up, blocking the bakery’s door like a wall.
His shield manifested on his arm, but Anastasia’s sword was much faster.
He barely lifted his shield when her sword tip was already pressed against his throat.
“Want to fight, Anastasia?”
“That’s not my intention. But I won’t allow you to be rude to Ophelia.”
She really was like a loyal dog now.
It seemed that young lady held a unique place in her heart.
“I owe you for what happened back then. But now, don’t interfere with my business.”
“I told you, we’re just here to buy bread.”
“You want to buy the entire stock of my bread?”
Aleksei roared.
For some reason, every time Anastasia appeared before him, his heart became inexplicably restless.
He longed for closure over the past, yet seeing her frail figure made him feel as if pierced by countless arrows…
This tangled frustration had haunted him for a long time.
“Yes, we want all your bread. Deliver it across the street.”
Following Anastasia’s pointed finger, he looked toward the center of the ruins struck by explosive magic earlier—now a heap of broken walls.
Among the familiar damaged silhouettes flickering in the rubble, many familiar faces were missing.
“Anastasia… how long can you keep caring for them? How long can you keep controlling them? Doing this foolish thing—what exactly do you want?”
“Aren’t you doing the same foolish thing, Aleksei?”
Anastasia’s question pierced Aleksei’s heart like an arrow.
“If you hadn’t kept feeding them, they would have died long ago. If you’re going to be good, be good to the end, Aleksei. I want them to taste your bread, not just the crusts.”
Anastasia’s sword vanished into thin air.
She crouched down, picking up the Gold Coins Ophelia had dropped, brushing off the dust, opening her palm to hand them to Aleksei.
Aleksei’s gaze passed over the coins to the slender arm wrapped in blood-stained bandages.
“Sorry…”
He took the coins and turned back inside the shop.
He gathered all the resting shop assistants, opened every cabinet, and took out all the bread on display for sale.
He packed and bagged everything meticulously.
“I’ll deliver the bread. You all go about your business, Anastasia.”
“Mm, thank you.”
Anastasia took Ophelia’s hand, and side by side, they walked back along the route they had come during the day.
The gentle harmonica melody drifted from behind.
Anastasia lightly tightened her grip on Ophelia’s hand, then suddenly leaned sideways, bumping her shoulder against Ophelia’s arm.
“Anastasia.”
“Mm?”
Anastasia balanced like walking on a narrow beam along the curb.
Her twin braids fluttered with the sway of her body.
Ophelia looked through the moonlight at the eyes hidden behind the flat lenses, and a weight lifted from her heart.
“You’re so cute.”
“Huh?”
Anastasia’s cheeks visibly flushed red.
“Suddenly saying something like that, Ophelia?”
Her little fists rained gently on Ophelia’s arm.
She jumped down from the curb and tiptoed against the moonlight.
“Then Ophelia should look more, and remember my face well.”
“It’s already etched in my heart—no need to say it twice.”
Ophelia couldn’t help but lean in to kiss Anastasia’s lips.
But the next second, her gaze narrowed at a figure in the middle of the road.
Her smile quickly faded.
“Ophelia?”
Before she could get a reply, a gruff male voice broke the mood behind Anastasia.
“Good evening, my dear Ophelia… and the bothersome Sinful Lady.”
“Who’s your dear? Don’t flatter yourself.”
Anastasia watched as Ophelia’s brows twisted like a warped, molten blade.
She turned around. Those two faces—she would never forget either one.
Court Knight Captain Otto, and the Gun Hero Geheros.
That afternoon three years ago replayed vividly in her mind.
The royal guard knight holding the lasso representing the king, and the Gun Hero who resolutely testified for the greater good…
Anastasia’s eyes burned with hatred.
“Good evening, Anastasia.”
Geheros stepped forward, twirling one of Anastasia’s braids between his fingers, bringing it close to his nose to inhale.
“A lovely cedar scent. Your taste has improved quite a lot, Anastasia.”
“Take your hands off Anastasia.”
Smack. Ophelia stepped before Anastasia and slapped Geheros’s lecherous hand away.
“Ophelia, don’t be rude to Baron Geheros.”
“None of your business. Shut your mouth.”
Scolding the presumptuous Otto, Ophelia resolutely took Anastasia’s hand.
“Step aside, or don’t blame me for being unkind.”
Ophelia wasn’t bluffing—the magic sigils gathered in her palm, ready to unleash another burst of explosive magic.
She would protect her Anastasia from these two at all costs.