Chapter 373: The Final Chapter of a Romantic Story
In the high-level office of the Magic Association, the afternoon sun spilled onto the desk through the glass windows, illuminating the fine dust floating in the air.
Flamme finally finished approving the last document. She stuck her quill back into the inkwell and leaned back slowly into her chair.
She took a long breath, then exhaled slowly, as if expelling the fatigue accumulated over the entire day from her chest.
Then, she stretched greatly. Her arms extended upward, her slender waist arched backward slightly, and a few strands of red hair slipped from her shoulders.
This rare moment of relaxation allowed her tightly wound nerves to loosen a little.
However, what followed was not a pure emptying of the mind, but thoughts she usually never allowed herself to have, quietly surfacing.
She maintained her leaning posture, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the ceiling.
For some reason, distant memories, faded almost to nothing, flashed in her mind without warning.
The smoke filling the sky and the broken walls when her hometown was attacked. The smell of burning and blood permeating the air—a smell she would never forget in her life.
Her small self curling up in the cracks of the rubble, body stiff as stone from fear, daring not make a sound even when crying, terrified of being discovered by demons.
Then, it was Master Serie finding her in the ruins and bringing her before Master Rhodes.
As for how she was taken away from those ruins, what she talked about with her two teachers, and her first clumsy attempt to sense mana...
These details had blurred under the wash of long years, leaving only fragments of memory.
But she would forever remember the feeling of that moment. The cold, despairing world torn open, light and warmth flooding in. Two figures descended like gods, pulling her back from the edge of the abyss.
What do I think of my two teachers?
Respect and love.
The initial, purest respect and love.
They taught her magical knowledge, guided her to become stronger, raised her, and taught her how to perceive the world.
They were not just teachers, but family who raised her, the most precious people in her long life.
But since when did that respect for Master Rhodes quietly change? When did it seep with an unusual palpitation, eventually fermenting into a romantic affection she couldn't even speak of herself?
Flamme could no longer remember the exact point in time.
Perhaps it was when he patiently explained an extremely complex spell to her. Perhaps when he defended her while she was being scolded by Master Serie. Or perhaps, simply in the day-to-day interactions, his transcendent wisdom and gentleness eroded her initial admiration bit by bit, giving birth to unspeakable thoughts beyond reverence.
When she finally realized this feeling, it was already deeply rooted in her heart, impossible to uproot.
She knew she shouldn't harbor such thoughts about Master Rhodes. After all, Master Serie was already by his side.
Their bond, spanning a thousand years, was indestructible—an absolute domain no external force could intervene in.
But her youthful, reckless self was unwilling, so she boldly expressed her feelings.
And the result was obvious: she failed.
If the current Flamme were to look back at her past self, would she regret it? Perhaps a little, but she was still glad she had conveyed her feelings.
Then came the promise between her and Master Rhodes: to bury this feeling deep in her heart.
Never express it, never disturb them. Only turn this feeling into motivation to work harder, become their reliable student, and stay by their side in this way to repay their kindness—and comfort herself.
For so many years, she had done very well.
So well that sometimes she almost believed that fierce emotion had been smoothed by time into pure respect.
Although ripples would still stir in the lake of her heart every time she witnessed intimate interactions between the two, those ripples would soon be flattened by stronger reason and blessings.
Yes, blessings.
She genuinely hoped her two teachers would be happy.
And besides blessings, there was a faint envy.
Jealousy? No! Almost none.
That was too ugly, and too unreasonable.
At most, occasionally in the dead of night, a tiny "unwillingness" would pop up in her heart—Why wasn't I the one who met him first?
But it was only a sliver, fleeting instantly.
"Master Rhodes..." she murmured unconsciously, her voice exceptionally clear in the empty office.
She pressed her forehead gently against the cool, smooth desk surface, her red hair spreading out to cover her profile.
Recently, a more concrete and emotionally complex piece of news had reached her.
Once, when Master Serie was in an extremely good mood, she had vaguely revealed something with a rare shy expression—
She and Rhodes seemed to be trying... possibly... to welcome an offspring belonging to them.
What kind of miracle would result from the combination of elven and human bloodlines?
Flamme couldn't imagine.
But she could clearly feel that what surged in her heart instantly was intense envy.
Envy of the new life about to arrive between the two, envy that this love would finally bear fruit.
She even began to look forward to how cute that little girl would be.
She would definitely treat her as her most precious disciple—no! As her most precious family member.
After all, that would be the descendant of Master Rhodes, whom she liked the most, and Master Serie, whom she respected the most!
However, behind this seemingly romantic imagination lay the unavoidable cold reality.
She, Flamme, was going to die.
Admittedly, when that child Frieren brought back the modified Stasis Magic from Master Rhodes, she had said excitedly that Master had always been paying attention to her and might have other plans to let Master Flamme live forever too.
Although Flamme was moved at the time, she didn't fully believe it.
Defying fate, breaking the limits of racial lifespan, granting another person a long life equal to his own?
This sounded more incredible than the most absurd legends.
She had researched Master Rhodes's immortality magic and knew how many limitations and instabilities lay within.
For Master Rhodes to reach today was already a unique miracle in the world. How could she dare hope this miracle would extend to her?
Perhaps he was just comforting Frieren, giving the child some hope.
Moreover... if it really succeeded, a thought that made even herself feel ashamed surfaced: If, just if, there is a minuscule possibility that I gain a long time equal to theirs, how should I conduct myself?
Decades, centuries—she could still restrain herself with reason, burying her love deep.
But millennia? Ten millennia?
In near-eternal time, facing the person she loved every day, watching him accompany his true love, while she could only hover by their side as a disciple...
Could she really guarantee that suppressed emotion would never spiral out of control?
At that time, how would she face Master Serie? How would she face Master Rhodes? How would she face the two who might develop rifts because of her existence?
She dared not think about it, nor was she willing to.
"As expected, I should just leave it like this..." Flamme chuckled self-deprecatingly, her voice filled with resigned relief.
Her time was truly running out.
Stasis Magic was like an unchanging gown wrapping her, keeping her appearance forever in her most youthful and beautiful moment. Her skin was smooth, her red hair as dazzling as fire.
But this was only appearance.
Magic froze the exterior, but it couldn't reverse the irresistible drain of her life source.
She could clearly feel the vigorous vitality inside her body decreasing constantly, like fine sand in an hourglass.
The kettle on the outside was shiny and new, but the water inside had quietly leaked away through invisible cracks.
This was the fate of the human race, a law carved into life.
Even though she stood at the pinnacle of the human magical world, even though she mastered powerful magic countless people envied, on this fundamental issue, she was no different from the most ordinary mortal.
Regarding this, she even felt a trace of... rejoicing?
Yes, rejoicing.
Rejoicing that Stasis Magic allowed her not to face Master Rhodes with an aged, ugly appearance for the final journey of her life.
To remain forever frozen in her best appearance in the memory of the person she liked—for a girl, this might already be the final tenderness fate could offer.
Let it end like this.
While everything is still beautiful, let it end like this.
The Magic Association had been stable for decades. Even without her, no trouble would arise. That child Frieren had grown up quite a bit and could be called a powerful mage.
The two teachers were holding down the fort at the Association; no one dared to attack it. Everything was so beautiful and romantic.
She slowly straightened up, tidied her somewhat messy long hair and robes, and her face returned to its usual calmness. Only deep in her eyes was there a touch of resolve.
She recalled that a few days ago, when Senior Olivia came to have tea with her, she had inadvertently mentioned she had stayed in the mortal world too long and was preparing to return to the Heavenly Kingdom.
The Heavenly Kingdom—the former nation of the Sky-Winged, an eternally unfalling city in the sky, a dilapidated city known to almost no one. Perhaps that was the place closest to eternal peace in the world.
That place would also be her final destination.
No need to wither in a familiar place. No need to let anyone, especially that child Frieren, witness her decline.
Leaving quietly like this, then using Stasis Magic to sleep forever... that was quite nice too.
At least this way, she wouldn't be leaving completely. She could still accompany the people she cherished in this world.
She stood up and walked to the window. She took one last look at the sun-drenched capital, then used detection magic to overlook the Magic Association. Finally, she rested her gaze on the top floor.
There was the light she had loved and respected all her life, yet was destined never to approach.
Goodbye, Master Rhodes.
Goodbye, Master Serie.
She said a silent farewell in her heart, then turned and walked steadily toward the door to find Senior Olivia.
The setting sun stretched her shadow very long. With her departing steps, it merged bit by bit into the dimness of the corridor outside.
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