For a long moment, the cathedral was silent.
Ryn stood in the center of the wrecked hall, sword still buried in the chimera’s skull... surrounded by paladins and clerics staring at him like they’d just discovered a celebrity.
A small notification blinked at the edge of his vision:
[MP: 20 / 110]
Ryn stared at it.
"...Oh no."
It wasn’t because he had used almost all his MP, but because he’d just remembered what skill he was supposed to have.
Ryn had a B-Rank skill.
A skill that enhanced awareness. Maybe reflexes a little.
Absolutely, under no circumstances, did the enhancement of "senses" allow the feat he had achieved.
He felt his pulse quicken.
Shit. There’s no way they won’t question me.
Another paladin staggered over, armor dented and smeared with blood. He stared at Ryn with shaky reverence and skepticism.
"Enhanced Senses... does that normally allow... all that?"
Ryn’s brain short-circuited for a full heartbeat.
"Well," he said carefully, "in moments of danger, adrenaline helps."
The paladins exchanged looks.
"Adrenaline," the first repeated.
The silence sharpened.
No one believed him. Every single person in the room could sense the lie. Well, at this point, all Ryn could do was hope and pray they misunderstood somehow.
He glanced around. They were all exchanging suspicious looks, whispering amongst each other.
Ryn needed to shut this down. Some kind of solution that’s quick and easy, that’s hassle-free, and satisfies all parties involved.
Something jingled as he moved off the chimera’s corpse.
Ahh, so that was the solution the whole time.
He reached into his coat. Everyone stiffened, probably thinking he was going to pull out a weapon and silence them all.
Well, he would silence them, just in a different way.
He produced a small, finely crafted pouch tied with a silver cord. The soft, unmistakable clink of coins shifted inside.
Ryn loosened the cord with a lazy elegance that only nobles trained from birth could do convincingly. He held the pouch between two fingers, weighing it lightly.
"I imagine," he said gently, "that repairing the cathedral after such an... unfortunate attack... will be costly. I am willing to ’support’ this effort."
The cleric swallowed hard.
He was "supporting" them.
Which, in noble language, meant precisely buying silence — in a way that made everyone involved feel... better, afterward.
The cleric’s shoulders loosened almost instantly.
"That... is very generous of you, Young Master."
He handed a small amount to everyone in the room. When Ryn got to the last person, they had denied it. It was the young paladin.
A pointless gesture, but... oddly loyal.
Ryn glanced at the paladin again, ready to mentally label him as the only decent guy he’d met here.
Before he could respond, the paladin exhaled sharply, almost embarrassed.
"I should... probably introduce myself properly. Since you risked your life to save mine."
A waterfall of bright, golden-blonde hair tumbled out, catching the fractured sunlight in shimmering sheets.
The dust in the air sparkled around her like a halo. She shook her hair once — out of habit — revealing striking blue-gold eyes beneath.
Ryn’s lungs stopped.
No—No way—NO WAY—
The world tilted.
His brain betrayed him with the dumbest possible thought:
...She’s gorgeous.
But that wasn’t the real problem.
The real problem was—
"You’re—" His voice cracked like dry wood. "—a GIRL?!"
She blinked at him.
"...Yes?"
Ryn stared. Actually stared. Longer than any socially normal amount of staring.
No, wait. This could just be a look-alike...
"Sorry, what was your name?"
"Oh, I’m Seraphine! But since you saved me, feel free to call me Sera ."
Fuck, it’s the one.
His mind went straight back to his first life. It was a mission near the Gram family’s outskirts—an S-Rank monster, a slaughter waiting to happen. Ryn had been sure he was dead until "he" stepped in, shield raised, barking orders that somehow kept everyone alive.
And afterward, despite saving an entire party of strangers, "he" refused any payment at all.
When the Evernight fell, that same paladin became known across the ruins as the Bastion of Humanity , praised for "his" courage and kindness. But to Ryn, the Bastion had just been a reliable superior... and a drinking buddy when rations were thin.
Then the outer walls were breached. "He" died buying time for an evacuation, going down with that stupid shield still raised.
And Ryn remembered vividly mocking "his" name for being too feminine.
...Guess he finally had the answer.
Ryn forced his eyes away from her—away from the legend he’d watched die, standing here alive and smiling like the world hadn’t burned around her once already.
A knot tightened in his chest, guilt from his last life combined with confusion of gender turned into an emotion he couldn’t quite pinpoint.
"We should... keep in touch," he heard himself say. It came out quieter than intended, almost awkward. "If you’re stationed here, I mean. I’ll be around."
Sera’s head snapped up, her expression brightened immediately.
"Really? You want to?" she said, too quickly, too earnestly.
Ryn coughed lightly. "Yeah. Sure."
She straightened, almost bouncing on her heels despite the carnage still around them. "Then yes! I’d like that a lot."
Her enthusiasm hit him like a punch—pure, uncomplicated, the exact same energy he remembered from a lifetime ago.
Gods. He’d forgotten how hard it was to handle someone this sincere. And how easily he could fail them if he wasn’t careful.
***
Leaving the Cathedral behind on a carriage, he had gone back to the Estate, thankfully with no other monsters on his back. However, another monster awaited, and it was definitely not happy.
"Ryn."
The Patriarch walked forward, hands clasped behind his back, his expression unreadable.
Ryn kept his expression polite.
Let’s get this over with. Sigh.
"I was informed," he said evenly, "that you entered the cathedral early."
"...Yes."
"And that you acquired your Blessing before the scheduled day."
"Correct, Father."
"That was... unwise."
Ryn blinked. "Unwise?"
A part of him was relieved, at least the priests didn’t snitch about the incident. The other was annoyed because he had to sit through this whole lecture.
"You took your Blessing early," he said, "and received a mid-tier skill."
Ryn swallowed.
"You have lowered your perceived worth," he said simply. "Not because of the skill itself — B-Rank is perfectly respectable for commoners — but because nobility is judged by first impressions."
He folded his hands.
"And now," he added lightly, "your first impression... is mediocrity."
The Patriarch didn’t stop.
"You are not mediocre," he said. "But you have presented yourself in a way that allows others to assume you are. That is... unfortunate."
A small, subtle sting. Ryn felt it, but only faintly.
He respected his father, yes. But after living through years of Evernight and the end of the world, this kind of disappointment felt almost quaint.
After a brief silence, the Patriarch spoke once more.
"Ryn."
Ryn straightened instinctively. "Yes, Father?"
The patriarch reached into his sleeve and withdrew something wrapped in ceremonial cloth — a square shape, leather-bound object beneath the fabric.
A skillbook.
Ryn blinked.
Wait. What?
The Patriarch held it out with a controlled, measured formality.
"This was not given to you in your previous ceremony," he said. "However... given the circumstances, and the desire to prevent any further damage to your reputation, I have decided it is appropriate."
Ryn stared at the cloth.
"...Father?"
"Take it," the man said simply.
Ryn accepted the book carefully, unwrapping it just enough to see the silver-etched title on the leather:
[Arctis Sword Technique]
His breath stalled.
This was private. Inherited and reserved only for heirs who were truly valued.
With enough being said, the Patriarch turned, giving him a slight wave before disappearing back into his office.
Ryn swallowed.
This never happened in the past. His father wasn’t warm, wasn’t affectionate — but this was the closest he ever came to showing support.
A form of noblesse oblige. A way of saying, "I will correct your mistake," without admitting it aloud.
"...Thank you, Father." he whispered, though the man was no longer there.
Then, a sudden realization hit him. He had gotten a skill book he’d never gotten in his past life...Why?
However, Ryn already knew the answer, just afraid to admit it.
The timeline had changed...all because of him.