I Will Be Unrivaled With The Skill [Sewing]! They Said It Was A Bad Skill, But With Effort, I will Make It A Hit~ - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Regret

The hospitality at Maior’s home was extraordinary.

At dinner, in addition to the familiar faces from earlier, Maior’s younger brother, who was four years her junior, also joined. He seemed to adore Maior, calling her “Onee-chan” and affectionately clinging to her, which was quite endearing.

The meal was lavish, featuring premium ingredients like Magic Boar meat and Great Radish soup, and everything was exceptionally delicious.

When Seneca took her first bite, she thought it was so delicious that her cheeks might fall off. However, as the portions were quite large, she eventually felt a bit overwhelmed. Reflecting on how she had grown accustomed to such luxury, she made an effort to finish everything on her plate.

That evening, they allowed her to use their bath. While they didn’t use it daily, just having a bath in the house was impressive. Seneca took her time savoring the warmth of the tub before falling into a deep sleep alongside Maior in a large bed.

The next day, Seneca and Maior decided to search for the former village chief and his wife, who were originally from Cordoba Village.

With the address on the letter providing a rough idea of the location, Maior planned to guide Seneca there.

After the fall of Cordoba Village, Seneca’s hometown, the chief and his wife had reportedly moved to Lusitania to live with their son, who was working there.

Utilizing his experience as a village leader, the former chief was now doing minor administrative work in Lusitania.

According to Maior, they lived in a neighborhood for the middle class, so they seemed to be enjoying a relatively comfortable life.

Rather than heading straight to their destination, they decided to take a detour and do some sightseeing.

For Seneca, everything was fresh and exciting. From grand stores to small local shops, she found it fascinating to browse through various goods.

Many people recognized Maior, so there were no issues even if they didn’t purchase anything.

Seneca had a fondness for nuts, especially acorns, to the point that she jokingly thought she could become a squirrel if she tried hard enough. When they visited a shop that sold nuts, her eyes sparkled with excitement, and she ended up buying small amounts of many varieties.

Finally, they set out for the former village chief’s home.

As they got closer, Seneca grew nervous, and her chatter diminished.

Upon reaching a certain area, Maior said, “It should be around here.” With no further information, they had no choice but to ask around.

Looking around, Seneca spotted a middle-aged man and decided to ask him.

“Excuse me, do you know where the home of Anda-san and Lucia-san is?”

“Oh, I do! Just head straight down that road, and when you reach the end, turn left—it’s right there. What business do you have with them, young lady?”

“I was cared for by Mr. Anda when I was younger,” Seneca replied.

The man squinted his eyes slightly and asked, “Are you from Cordoba?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I see, I see. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you? I was also helped by Mr. Anda. Please send him my regards.”

Waving his hand, the man walked off in the opposite direction.

Following the directions they were given, Seneca and Maior eventually came upon a familiar-looking woman sweeping in front of a house.

“Lucia-san!!!”

Tears streaming down her face, Seneca threw herself into the arms of the middle-aged woman.

It had been five years since Lucia left Cordoba Village.

After moving to Lusitania to join her son, she worked hard to rebuild her life, and things had finally stabilized.

Her husband and son were diligent workers who earned a good income.

Lucia herself occasionally helped out by making sweets and jams, utilizing her skills.

While she had no complaints about her current life, there were lingering regrets.

She had once resolved to protect “those children” at all costs, yet out of fear of opposition from others, she had ultimately let them go.

Those two children had been treasures to Lucia—not because they were particularly talented or strong, but simply because she adored them. She had loved them as though they were her own.

Eus, Anna, Junius, Helvia—the four of them had all been remarkable individuals. Lucia’s husband had pleaded with Eus and Anna to move to Cordoba.

Eus, who had dreamed of traveling the world with his family once the children grew up, was always brimming with hope. If he had returned to being an adventurer, Lucia often wondered, what kind of man would he have become by now?

The Brave Youths and Lucia’s Regrets

The brave young people sacrificed their futures, while those like Lucia, whose only skill was cooking, were the ones left behind.

Such thoughts occasionally crossed her mind.

Seneca and Lucius had been as close as siblings, adventuring together daily. Lucia had often wondered if the day would come when these two would embark on their own journeys. That bittersweet thought, however, gave way to the reality that they left her far sooner than expected.

No, they didn’t leave. It was she and her husband who had let them go.

Even now, Lucia believed her husband’s decision had been correct. As the village chief, he had adhered to his principles, even if it meant relinquishing his role as a surrogate parent to Seneca and Lucius.

But just because it was correct didn’t mean it felt right. Lucia couldn’t be certain.

In the end, Lucia had been powerless. Her only joy now came from the occasional letters she received from Seneca. Yet, even these letters brought a lingering sense of guilt that weighed on her chest.

The thought of such a sweet girl stepping into the harsh world of adventuring…
The thought of such a gentle boy walking the perilous path of a saint, where countless demons lurked…

Lucia could do nothing but pray for their safety.

“Lucia-san!!!”

The voice rang out.

Although it came from nearby, its distinct echo felt as though it resonated from far away.

It was a voice she recognized.

Before she could turn around, someone had tightly embraced her.

Normally, such an unexpected action would have made her body instinctively recoil, but to her surprise, she didn’t mind it at all.

It was a young girl.

She couldn’t see her face, but the sunlight glinted off her silver hair as she buried her face in Lucia’s chest, affectionately nuzzling against her.

There was only one person in the world who could do this.

Lucia gently placed her hand on the girl’s head, softly stroking it as she whispered:

“Seneca, welcome home.”

Maior stood at a slight distance, watching the tearful reunion between Seneca and Lucia.

As she observed them embracing repeatedly, tears welled up in Maior’s eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks.

Maior didn’t know what it was like to be without parents. She didn’t understand the feeling of clinging to someone who had cared for her as if they were her mother.

She had never experienced the overwhelming joy of embracing someone over and over again to celebrate their safety.

Yet, her tears wouldn’t stop.

Perhaps, Maior thought, it wasn’t necessary to fully understand. It might be normal to have feelings one cannot comprehend, and it wasn’t a cold thing.

Instead, she realized, what mattered was the warm desire to understand. That, she believed, was essential.

So, after giving Seneca and Lucia a moment to calm down, Maior stepped forward with confidence and said:

“Aunt Lucia, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Maior. Please allow me the honor of your acquaintance.”

Her greeting, the kind reserved for formal occasions, left both Seneca and Lucia at a loss for words, creating an awkward silence.

It goes without saying that beads of sweat began to form on Maior’s forehead despite her composed demeanor.

(TLN: I’m not crying, you are!)