Red's words struck Livia like a muted thunderclap, reverberating through her chest and shattering the lingering shadows of hesitation and unease. In that instant, a startling clarity came to her: since fate had granted her a second life, she could no longer drift aimlessly. She had to live with purpose—truly, decisively, with meaning. The resolve that surged within her felt as if it would burst from her chest. She lifted her head, fixing her gaze on Elias, and for the first time, there was a steely determination reflected in her eyes.
"May I… join you?" Her voice was soft, yet beneath that softness lay a newfound certainty, a quiet defiance directed at fate itself.
Red paused for a moment, surprise flickering across his features. Then, a warm smile broke through, his eyes crinkling in genuine delight. "Of course. You're welcome." His words carried a rare sincerity, as if telling her that she had finally found her place.
The night wrapped the street in a hushed, gentle darkness, where the dim glow of lanterns flickered upon cracked cobblestones. Alia and Red unloaded bags of provisions from the cart, carefully handing them out to the children who had gathered around. Their clothes were tattered, their faces gaunt, yet when the food was placed into their small hands, a spark of hope lit up their eyes. Fingers clenched around pieces of bread and dried fruit as if grasping the whole world. Some of the younger children even blinked back tears, their trembling voices murmuring repeated "thank you" in a mixture of innocence and raw gratitude.
Alia bent down to gently smooth the tangled hair of a little girl, pressing a somewhat unsightly piece of dried meat into her tiny palm. Her touch was soft enough to seem capable of soothing the children's fears and anxieties. Red, in contrast, went about with his usual boisterous charm, teasing a few boys and dropping the heavier bags into their arms. He called them "brave little knights," prompting bursts of laughter that exposed gaps in their teeth and brightened the dim alley with fleeting joy.
Yet all of this was being observed from the shadows. A figure, almost blending entirely into the darkness, watched silently from a hidden corner. At first, his brow was furrowed, his stance guarded, his gaze skeptical. But as the children's laughter and delighted expressions reached him, his features gradually softened. The chill in his eyes ebbed, leaving only a faint, almost imperceptible sigh escaping his lips.
Once the last bag of provisions had been distributed, the street returned to silence, save for the whispering wind stirring against crumbling rooftops. Alia stood beneath the amber glow of the lamps, her hands empty, yet her chest brimming with a sense of fulfillment she had never felt before. In that moment, her purpose crystallized once more, resolute and unwavering.
She knew that the task ahead was clear: she must devote herself entirely to helping Marcellus collect all the fragments of the Holy Grail. Only through this could she restore Livia—or, at the very least, give her the chance to reclaim what had been lost. And ultimately, she vowed, the Grail must be destroyed forever, so that it would no longer ensnare hearts or sow suffering.
As for what lay beyond that path—the twists, the dangers, the unknowns—those would reveal themselves in time. For now, her focus was singular, unshakable, and absolute.