It was early spring, the air still crisp enough to make a nose tingle, and the sun peeking mischievously through the clouds. The village, still recovering from the woes of the previous season, was alive with activity.

Farmers were tilling the soil, hopeful for a bountiful harvest to come. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted through the streets, mingling with the sweet scent of blossoming flowers.

As Erwin, their leader, he made his way through the bustling crowd, he was inevitably followed by a swarm of admirers. Men who wanted to shake his hand and swap the latest gossip, officials eager to bend his ear about matters of state, and of course, the women—who couldn't help but swoon at his every word and gesture.

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A voice called out from the doorstep of the local tavern. "Erwin, my dear!" called out Hange, the jovial owner of the village tavern, while she wiped down a tankard with a rag. "Care to join us for a few beers this evening? I've got a new batch of ale that's just begging to be sampled."

Erwin grinned, clapping Hange on the back. "Levi," Erwin called out, "Join us for a drink later, won't you? Hange's ale is not to be missed."

Levi, leaning against a nearby building with his arms crossed over his chest, nodded curtly in response, his gaze flickering briefly to Erwin before returning to its distant survey of the surroundings.

"Maybe," he replied, his tone gruff but not unkind.

In the cheerful chatter, Erwin's icy-blue eyes fell upon someone that stood out amidst the crowd—, someone seemingly oblivious to the surrounding crowd.