Chapter 396: Frieren, Who Understands the Human Heart
Rhodes watched the shifting expressions on Aura's face with a sense of wonder.
"Truly remarkable," he murmured.
Serie glanced at him. "What is?"
"Her emotional depth," Rhodes gestured toward the demon. "A moment ago, she was the portrait of despair; now, she has completely accepted her lot. Such adaptability… it might even surpass Solifra's."
In theory, Aura shouldn't possess such volatile emotional range. While the records of her species suggested she was slightly more expressive than the average demon, this was something else entirely. Whether it was the currents of history shifting or some hidden trial she had endured, Aura had become unnervingly malleable.
Overall, it was a blessing. At least there was no need to fret that her inherent demonic malice would drive her to slaughter someone on a whim. Naturally, the necessary restraints would remain.
Serie followed his gaze, her eyes narrowing in clinical scrutiny. She realized he was right; the demon was almost too fluid. Having lived alongside Solifra for so long, she had initially accepted Aura's presence as a background variable, but Rhodes's observation forced her to see the oddity.
Could it be, Serie wondered, that Rhodes saw this specific plasticity and decided it was safe enough to keep her around as Frieren's ward?
Aura felt the weight of Serie's stare crawling over her skin like a spider. She didn't dare flinch, frozen in place, forcing a stiff, placating smile onto her face. The look in Serie's eyes only intensified, and Aura felt a fresh, cold tremor run through her marrow.
Rhodes stepped up to her. "Congratulations. You've survived."
Judging by Serie's posture, she seemed content to let Aura remain, rather than snuffing her out of existence for the crime of being a demon. This was a net positive for everyone—Aura included, and certainly Frieren.
Aura blinked, then nodded vigorously, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace of agony. "Th-thank you, Rhodes-sama…"
She should be happy. She had survived. It just meant her future was a vast, colorless void.
Rhodes nodded, turning back to the table. "Solifra."
Solifra emerged from the shadows of the corner, standing before him.
"Her upkeep is your responsibility from now on. I'll cast a concealment spell on her in a moment."
Solifra nodded, turning her gaze toward Aura, who stared back. Rhodes casually deactivated the concealment on Solifra, exposing the lingering demonic signature she possessed to Aura's senses. They would be half-colleagues soon enough; it was best to have them acquaint themselves.
For Aura, the shock was total. Solifra lacked the iconic, twisted horns of a demon, and her aura felt… wrong, somehow. Yet, Aura recognized the familiar resonance of their bloodline instantly.
Wait. You're a demon too? What are you doing in the Magic Association? Were you kidnapped like me?
Aura's mind raced with a thousand questions she didn't dare voice. Across from her, Solifra pondered: Very faint mana… she's a newborn. Rhodes-sama wants me to look after her. Is there a hidden meaning? Or perhaps—
The two stood in a silent stalemate, staring one another down.
Across the room, Rhodes settled into his chair. "Frieren, where have you wandered these past five hundred years?"
He didn't rebuke her for the radio silence or the lack of homecoming. For a mage of his standing, finding someone wasn't a matter of ability, but of intent. Frieren had remained untraceable, and while he and Serie often traded barbs about the "missing" apprentice, they both knew the truth: had they truly sensed a life-ending threat, they would have torn the world apart to find her. Rhodes's actions today were merely the final confirmation of that.
Frieren cradled her teacup, chin tucked against her chest. "Many places. The north, the south… the archipelago in the western sea. I've collected quite a few spells."
"Any interesting tales?" Serie asked.
She had spent most of her long existence within the walls of the Association. She was hungry for the stories of the world beyond.
"Yes," Frieren nodded. "Once, in an underground ruin, I met a talking frog. It claimed to be under a curse and begged me to break it."
Serie's curiosity piqued. "And?"
"I found a way to lift the curse. It turned back into an old man—he claimed to be a famous mage. To thank me, he offered to take me as his apprentice."
Serie's temper flared instantly. "What was that charlatan's name?"
Who does he think he is? To offer apprenticeship to Frieren? Does he have no concept of his own standing?
"I forgot," Frieren shrugged. "Flamme-sensei is the only teacher I need. But I did have him give me some spells I hadn't seen before."
It was classic Frieren: lazy, trouble-averse, yet possessed of a singular, pure curiosity for magic. Serie, however, felt a sharp pang of jealousy. What does she mean, Flamme is enough? What am I? A footnote? After all the effort I put into her training?
As if reading the shifting resentment on Serie's face, Frieren offered a rare, conciliatory gesture. "Of course, Serie-sama is the most important existence to me too! And Rhodes-sama as well."
"You make it sound like I'm an afterthought," Rhodes chuckled, using telekinesis to nudge a fresh pot of tea toward Frieren.
Still, the fact that Frieren had voiced such a thing meant she was finally beginning to understand the human heart—even if she was still a clumsy, elf-sized step away from being truly perceptive.
"And then?" Serie's smile returned, her toes tapping under the table.
"Another time, I helped a noble with a contract, and he gave me a very interesting spell."
"What kind?"
"A spell that makes the flavor of food more rich."
Serie: "…"
Rhodes: "…"
Frieren sensed their silence and looked up, confused. "What? It's a very useful spell. It makes stale rations taste like a gourmet banquet—very convenient for travel. Though, I still prefer eating at restaurants in human cities."
It was undeniably Frieren. In a way, it was perfect.
"What of Flamme?" Serie asked suddenly. "When will I see her?"
Rhodes set his cup down. "It will take some time."
To them, "some time" could mean centuries, but it was a wait they were well-equipped to endure. Serie stayed silent; she had expected no other answer.
"But," Frieren looked up at Rhodes, "Flamme-sensei is still alive, right?"
Rhodes nodded. "She is. She simply cannot return… yet."
"May I… go and visit her?" Frieren asked.
She knew the place of her teacher's slumber, but she had never dared to intrude on that stillness. She had always hoped that upon returning to the Association, she would find that familiar figure waiting for her. But the halls were empty. The old ache had resurfaced the moment she stepped through the door, an ache that had swelled into a quiet, desperate need.
Rhodes granted the request with a nod. Frieren said nothing more.
Serie looked at the girl's bowed head, her heart a tangled mess of complex feelings. Five centuries. She had changed—she was steadier, more reserved… she was, in many ways, becoming Flamme. But the core remained untouched: that pure, crystalline love for the art of magic, mirrored exactly in her teacher.
"Fine," Serie waved her off. "Go and rest. You look like you haven't slept in a week."
Frieren rose, took two steps, and stopped. She glanced back at Aura. "Don't… don't lose my pet."
Aura looked crushed, but she didn't dare protest.
Serie waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes, we won't lose it. Solifra will look after her."
Solifra nodded, resuming her silent staring contest with the demon. Satisfied, Frieren pushed open the door and left.
Solifra turned to Aura. "Follow me."
Aura felt as if a death sentence had been commuted. She couldn't bear to remain in the same room as these two legendary entities for another second; the pressure was simply too much to bear. She hurried after Solifra.
At the threshold, Aura stole one last glance back at the two figures.
These are the legendary God-slayer and the Elven Saint? The strongest mages in history? To think I'd meet them both by such a freak twist of fate.
If her wounds didn't still throb with agony, Aura would have assumed this entire day was a fever dream. Who would ever believe that the two most prolific demon-slayers in history had not only spared her life but were currently housing a demon in their own sanctuary?
Nobody would believe it. Not a soul.
With that final thought, Aura wrenched her gaze away and slipped out of the room, leaving the legends behind.
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