Elise Korvan returned that evening with a storm brewing in her chest.
This was ridiculous.
She had never believed in prayers or miracles.
If gods truly existed, then a man as kind as her father would never be suffering like this.
No—if anyone deserved divine punishment, it was the kings, the landlords, the pompous nobles rotting in their luxurious filth.
But she had already tried everything.
She spent every lunch break rushing to the city library to research herbs.
Saved every copper from her pitiful wages to hire a halfway competent healer.
Yet all of it was useless.
Nothing worked.
This… was despair.
The bronze coin she offered earlier was a third of today's pay.
It should've bought her and her father a piece of stale-but-edible bread.
Instead, Elise had thrown it away for something completely pointless.
"Oh, you're home, sweetheart?"
Her father's worn voice greeted her as the door to their hut creaked open.
Daniel Korvan, once celebrated across the kingdom as its strongest knight.
A name that once struck fear into enemies and lit fire in the hearts of his comrades.
That same man… now sat hunched on a thin carpet mattress they used as a bed.
His body had grown so thin his bones pushed through his skin.
His once golden, radiant hair had thinned and fallen away.
Daniel forced the warmest smile he could muster.
"You're home later than usual. Did something happen?"
Elise swallowed her tears and shook her head hard. "No. I just… took a walk."
She stepped closer.
"Did Mr. Gordon scold you again?"
Mr. Gordon—her employer. A bastard with a bloated belly who always made Elise carry the heaviest crates during unloading.
But the most infuriating part wasn't him—it was his snot-nosed, stuttering son, Douma, who demanded Elise tie his shoelaces even though he could do it himself. The idiot even untied them on purpose every hour just so she'd have to redo it for him.
"He scolds me every day."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Don't push yourself too hard. If it's too much, you should quit—"
"And who will earn money for us? Who will feed us? Do you think those 'siblings' of yours—those who abandoned you the moment they learned about your illness—will suddenly step up!?"
Elise froze.
She hadn't meant to snap. She sucked in a breath, forced her voice steady. "... I-I'm sorry, Father. I didn't mean—"
"You're right." Daniel looked away, eyes hollow with guilt. "I'm sorry for asking something selfish. I… should've been more realistic."
"Father, that's not—"
"I understand." He smiled at her again, painfully gentle. "You've worked so hard. Harder than anyone your age should. I sometimes think I don't deserve any of this. I just… wish you'd think about yourself for once."
"Think about myself? I've never—"
"The exam results came out, didn't they?"
Elise froze.
The exam. That exam. The entrance test to Starborn Academy—the most prestigious academy in the kingdom… no, in the entire world.
A place where nobles and commoners were said to be treated the same.
A place where graduates earned a Sorcerer Certification—your golden ticket into parliament, bureaucratic offices, magic academies, and even the opportunity to open your own practice.
Elise had taken the exam last month, sacrificing 80% of her weekly wage for one day off.
And the results had arrived a week ago.
She passed.
But that wasn't the part that weighed on her heart.
"Entering Starborn could change your life," Daniel said. "I still have some savings. You can use them to travel to Darmstadt and buy your supplies."
Elise clenched her teeth. She wanted to deny it. To say she didn't want any of that.
However …
Why can't I speak…?
"Thirty-four years."
"…Huh?"
"You know, Lys… this illness has been with me since I was little. Maybe even since birth. My parents took me to the healer at least once a week. It got better when I grew older, but then I joined the military, fought, got exposed to mana radiation… and it relapsed."
Elise tilted her head, confused.
"But anyway," Daniel continued, "for thirty-four years, I've managed to stay alive. So of course I'll live for thirty more. So…"
Pluck
Daniel placed a trembling hand on her head and gently stroked it. "…you don't have to worry about me. Go chase your dream."
Elise's lips trembled. "Then… what about your food?"
"Hah? Were you even listening? I told you—I have savings. Enough to feed myself. And if it gets tight, well, I can just go back to working."
Elise stared at him.
"What's with that look? Are you underestimating me? Should I tell you the legendary exploits of Daniel the Mighty?" He flexed his muscles, which only made him look even more pitiful.
Elise sighed deeply.
"It won't cost too much. Probably just four years. So… study hard, graduate quickly, then come back and buy me stale bread every day again, okay?"
---
It was a lie. Of course it was.
A lie even a five-year-old could see through.
But deep down, Elise kept thinking:
If she went to the Academy, maybe she could find a proper cure for her father.
Maybe she could meet a powerful healer-sorcerer.
Maybe she could get a humane part-time job that paid enough to send her father to a real hospital.
But…
Who am I kidding?
In the end, Elise was just trying to run away. Leaving her father helpless and dying.
I really am a terrible daughter. A disgrace.
Someone worthy of divine punishment.
At least now she understood why the god she prayed to earlier—or any god—would never answer her.
Why would gods help a girl who crumbled at the slightest trial?
So instead of turning away from divine power, Elise…
…returned the next evening.
To the stone statue in the plaza. The temple guards charged admission, so this was the only 'god' she could approach.
It was a serpent statue nearly as tall as she was.
Once, centuries ago, this deity had a name. But no one remembered it now.
Elise clasped her hands and clapped again, whispering softly, "I'm sorry for only coming to you when I'm desperate, and forgetting you when I'm happy. I… regret what I've done. I withdraw my foolish request. Please forgive me, and if it's not too much… grant me and my father a small blessing of good health."
She reached into her pouch and pulled out two bronze coins. Hoping that more would earn more forgiveness.
But her stomach growled loudly.
She winced and placed only one coin, just like yesterday.
"Then… I'll take my leave. I offer you my respect once again, Nameless God—"
"Lotus. Bronze."
Elise jerked her head up. Blinked hard. A voice.
She spun around.
People passed by… but no one was speaking to her.
Someone must be playing a trick on me—
But no. The voice was strange. Unfamiliar. And yet profoundly soothing.
A gentle, calming resonance—like the sweetest echo descending straight from heaven.
Even as she walked home, the words kept repeating in her mind.
"Lotus. Bronze."