The walk back after the meal was quieter.
Not uncomfortable.
Just slower.
The kind of silence that settled after a long conversation, where neither side felt the need to force more words into the space.
The city continued moving around them.
Merchants called out to customers.
Metal clinked as blacksmiths worked in open workshops.
Children ran through the street with careless laughter, weaving between adults who barely paid them any attention.
Life moved forward without pause.
Evan walked beside Lyra, his hands resting behind his head as he lazily looked around.
The earlier tension he had carried for days was gone.
Or at least… lighter.
The warm food helped.
The walk helped.
But more than anything—
Just being outside again helped.
"…You know," Evan said suddenly.
Lyra glanced at him.
"What?"
Evan tilted his head slightly toward the busy street.
"…I think I forgot how loud cities are."
Lyra's gaze moved across the crowd before returning forward.
"…You grew used to silence."
"…Yeah," Evan admitted. "Our house is quiet. Almost too quiet sometimes."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
A cart rolled past them, its wooden wheels creaking against the uneven stone road.
A group of merchants nearby were arguing over prices with animated gestures.
Someone laughed loudly in the distance.
Evan watched it all.
Then his expression shifted slightly.
"…Lyra."
"Yes?"
"…Does the world always feel like this?"
Lyra slowed her steps just a little.
"…Explain."
Evan gestured vaguely toward the street.
"…People laughing… talking… buying things… living normally."
His voice became quieter.
"…Even though dangerous things exist everywhere."
Lyra understood immediately what he meant.
Her gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained calm.
"…Yes."
Evan frowned.
"…That's strange."
"…Why?"
Evan shrugged.
"…Because if everyone knew how dangerous the world actually is…"
He glanced toward the crowd again.
"…Wouldn't they be more careful?"
Lyra watched the people around them for a moment.
A young boy ran past them, chasing after a rolling wooden hoop.
His mother called after him with a tired sigh.
Lyra finally spoke.
"…Most people already know."
Evan blinked.
"…They do?"
"…Yes."
She continued walking.
"…They simply cannot live in fear every moment."
Evan thought about that.
The laughter.
The shouting merchants.
The people casually walking through the street as if nothing in the world could threaten them.
"…So they just ignore it?"
"…Not ignore," Lyra corrected.
"…Accept."
Evan tilted his head slightly.
"…Accept?"
"…Yes."
Her voice remained calm.
"…The world is dangerous. That will not change."
"…People understand this."
"…But life must continue regardless."
Evan was quiet for a while after that.
They turned into a slightly less crowded street.
The noise softened.
The atmosphere became calmer.
Evan finally spoke again.
"…You sound like someone who learned that the hard way."
Lyra didn't answer immediately.
Her steps slowed slightly.
"…I did."
Evan glanced at her.
For a brief moment—
Her expression looked distant.
Not sad.
But thoughtful.
As if she were remembering something far away.
Evan didn't push further.
Instead, he kicked a small pebble along the road as they walked.
"…Velmora is a weird place."
Lyra raised an eyebrow slightly.
"…Explain."
"…On one hand," Evan said, "you have powerful cultivators who can destroy buildings."
He pointed at a nearby shop.
"…And on the other hand… people are arguing over vegetables."
Lyra actually paused for a moment.
Then—
"…Both are important."
Evan looked at her.
"…Vegetables are important?"
"…Yes."
"…More important than cultivation?"
"…Without food, cultivation is meaningless."
Evan stared at her.
Then laughed.
"…That sounds like something a foodie would say."
Lyra's expression immediately returned to its usual calm seriousness.
"…I am not a foodie."
"…You followed the smell across half the street."
"…That was efficient decision making."
Evan shook his head, smiling.
"…Sure it was."
They continued walking.
After a few more minutes, the streets became more familiar.
Their house wasn't far now.
Evan's relaxed expression slowly faded into something more thoughtful.
"…Lyra."
"Yes?"
"…When will I be able to start cultivating properly?"
Lyra looked at him.
"…You already began learning."
"…I mean real cultivation."
Evan's tone was more serious now.
"…The kind where I actually get stronger."
Lyra remained silent for a moment.
Then she spoke carefully.
"…Soon."
Evan sighed.
"…You always say that."
"…Because it is true."
"…You said that three days ago."
"…And it remains true."
Evan rubbed his face in mild frustration.
"…That's not reassuring."
Lyra stopped walking.
Evan stopped as well.
She turned to face him fully.
"…Evan."
Her voice was calm.
But firm.
"…Cultivation is not something you rush."
"…If the foundation is unstable, everything built upon it will collapse."
Evan didn't argue.
He already knew that.
Still—
"…It's frustrating."
Lyra nodded slightly.
"…It should be."
Evan blinked.
"…That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"…No."
"…Then why say it?"
"…Because frustration means you are serious."
Evan looked at her for a moment.
Then sighed.
"…Fair point."
They reached the door of their home.
Lyra opened it calmly.
"…Come inside."
Evan stepped in first.
The familiar quiet of the house wrapped around them immediately.
The sounds of the city faded.
Lyra closed the door behind them.
For a moment—
Neither of them moved.
Then Evan stretched his arms lazily.
"…That was nice."
Lyra removed her cloak and set it aside.
"…Yes."
Evan walked toward the table where several books were stacked neatly.
He ran his fingers across one of them absentmindedly.
"…You know…"
Lyra looked at him.
"…What?"
Evan glanced over his shoulder.
A small grin appeared again.
"…Next time we go out…"
He paused.
"…You're choosing the food again."
Lyra narrowed her eyes slightly.
"…I did not choose it."
"…You followed the smell."
"…That is different."
"…Not really."
Lyra turned away slightly.
"…Rest."
Evan groaned dramatically.
"…Again with the resting."
"…You need it."
"…You say that every day."
"…Because it remains true every day."
Evan sighed and walked toward his room.
"…One day I'm going to prove you wrong."
Lyra watched him go.
Her expression calm.
But thoughtful.
"…Perhaps," she said quietly.
Then she turned away.
Outside—
The city continued moving.
Unaware.
Unconcerned.
But inside that small house—
Something else was quietly preparing.
Not rushed.
Not loud.
But steady.
And inevitable.