The books kept by Astiās mother, Lady Misty, covered an astonishing range.
Most were related to magic: everything from basic magical theory to advanced applications, introductory guides to creating magical tools, texts for seasoned practitioners, and even miscellaneous notes on magical medicine.
And then, mixed among them, were books on cooking basics, guides to making daily life more convenient, advice on building human relationships, and even childcare manuals with titles like Hello, Baby.
Seeing them all together made it feel realāthis was a home where a woman had truly lived, raising her son here.
āThere are so many different kinds of books.ā
āSorry, theyāre a bit scattered. I didę“ē them after she passed, but stillā¦ā
āItās fine. It feels like a treasure hunt. Itās exciting.ā
Finding exactly what I wanted might take time, but thankfully, I had plenty of it now.
I could imagine myself slowly losing hours to reading here.
Still, my priority was clear. I needed a way to improve my recovery potions.
The truth was, the way I made them now was⦠rather rough.
I took the main herb, put it into a magic cauldron, added purified water, brought it to a boil, and stirred while chanting buff magic. That was all.
To be fair, potion-making differed from apothecary to apothecary, so it wasnāt āwrong.ā
But it was sloppy. I couldnāt deny that.
The ingredients from the Spirit Forest were far superior to anything I could obtain in the capital, with far greater magical density. Potions made from them should have had higher base performance than before.
And yet, they didnāt suit the people of this town.
According to Bella, my potions were balanced in nature.
That meant I needed to specialize them somehow.
Attack power? Defense?
Speed, mana, stamina�
None of it quite clicked, and a crease formed between my brows.
No matter which I chose, it felt like it would only appeal to a narrow group.
As I scanned the shelves, matching my gaze against countless spines, one faded book caught my eye.
I pulled it free.
It was a fairy tale about the goddess Frail.
In the story, the goddess Frail was reborn as a human girl, gifted with the power of healing.
She traveled the world, mending wounds and saving those in need.
Before long, people began to call her the āSaint.ā
Anyone from my hometown of Frailchest would know this tale.
The book was worn and discolored, clearly read again and again.
āThat brings back memories.ā
āWah!?ā
I had been so absorbed that I hadnāt noticed Asti leaning in.
My heart pounded wildly in my chest.
āS-sorry! I didnāt mean to startle you! I justā!ā
My shout startled him instead, and he jumped back, bumping into the shelf.
Books cascaded down in a noisy avalanche, burying him in paper and dust.
āA-Asti, are you okay?ā
āCoughāughāplease donāt come closer! Youāll get dirty, and the dust might be bad for the baby!ā
He stretched out an arm to stop me, even as he sat there covered in books.
Still, I couldnāt just leave him like that, so I began picking up the fallen volumes.
That was when I found a thin booklet titled On Creating the Ultimate Recovery Potion.
Opening it, I found page after page filled with handwritten notes.
One line caught my eye.
āTo maximize the healing effect of a recovery potionāā
I flipped through, reading intently.
The ingredients listed ranged from common to extremely rare.
Some could be gathered from the Spirit Forest, but others would require hiring adventurers. Especially in my current condition.
I didnāt have a fixed party.
I used to team up with Amelie, but after she became pregnant with her first child, we had naturally gone our separate ways.
Until now, Iād joined various parties as a supporter through the capitalās guild, gathering materials myself when needed. Thanks to that, Iād managed to save most of my earnings beyond living expenses.
āThatās probably something my mother wrote.ā
His voice made my heart jump again.
I must have been too focused; it felt awkward suddenly being aware of him.
āMaximizing healing effectsā¦ā
āYes. Adventurers here prefer something specialized. Thatās why this notebook really caught my interest.ā
āI see⦠Healgrass and Mahinaori flowers grow in the Spirit Forest. Unicorn tears or holy dragon horns are another matter, but⦠I could fetch those for you.ā
Asti said it brightly, almost eagerly.
But I couldnāt nod in agreement.
Ever since I learned of Leonās betrayal, Iād relied on Asti for everything.
The investigation, the divorce, even the move. Heād supported me at every turn.
I was deeply grateful. Truly.
But I didnāt want to continue being carried along by his kindness forever.
āItās all right. Iāll improve the potions little by little, sell them, and once Iāve saved enough, Iāll put in a guild request.ā
āā¦But Iād be faster. Iām a top-rank adventurer, after all.ā
āNo. I donāt want that. If I keep relying on you, Iāll turn into someone who canāt do anything on her own. I donāt want that.ā
This house was full of magical tools that worked simply by supplying mana.
That convenience was a blessing, but growing dependent on it would leave me unable to live anywhere else.
Right now, I was staying here because of Astiās kindness.
But someday, he would surely find someone he loved.
When that day came, I would have to leave.
I was carrying another manās child. No one would willingly choose such complications.
Even the man who once vowed love to me had built a family with another woman.
āIām sorry. Iām grateful for your feelings. Truly.
But I want to live by my own strength.
For this childās sake, too.ā
I placed a hand on my growing belly.
Asti said nothing.
I couldnāt bring myself to look at his face.
The silence between us was broken only by the soft sound of his clothes shifting.
āā¦I understand. Sorry. I got carried away. That was embarrassing.ā
āYour help means so much to me. I really do appreciate it. Teleportation magic is convenient, but I donāt want to become someone who canāt live without you.ā
Relying on someone completely, handing over your choices to another.
That was dangerous. Something I should never do again.
If I were betrayed once more, I might not recover.
I quietly crushed the small, budding feelings inside my heart.
Asti was a precious friend.
Someone who always affirmed me.
And because of thatā
I didnāt want to lose him.
I never wanted to lose someone dear to me again.






