"...It hurts..."
"Saying sothing like that while dancing with a lady is really quite rude."
"But this is already the seventeenth ti you've stepped on my foot, and the court dance isn't even halfway finished."
"Jeez... Just rembering these steps is taking all my energy... So, could you please stop ntioning those unimportant little details?"
"Your dancing is awful. Is that why you didn't want to stay at the palace banquet, Flam?"
"No way..."
"I'm starting to regret giving you those shoes. You're completely unsuited for dancing."
The serene moonlight bathed the bickering dance partners.
After another smooth spin, Flam's white dress landed on Agusheed's foot again.
"Eighteenth ti..."
He softly announced the number of tis he had been stepped on, but seeing that Flam had no intention of stopping—
Agusheed fell silent and continued the dance through mishap after mishap.
...
"I really don't understand…"
On a distant clock tower, Frieren leaned over the railing, watching the two dance under the moonlight.
"It's only been ten years. Why has Flam changed so much?"
Frieren patted her cheeks, her face showing clear signs of ntal overload.
"Human thoughts are really hard to comprehend."
"And… there's actually a demon that Flam can't bring herself to hate…"
Frieren sighed, feeling more and more bewildered about both human and demon nature.
Without a doubt, she instinctively disliked Agusheed, the high-ranking demon.
After all, her village and family had been wiped out by demons.
Flam was exactly the sa.
Even now, Flam still hated demons to the core…
"Is that demon really as special as Flam says?"
"A high-ranking demon that has lived for five hundred years and never killed anyone from another race—"
"Unbelievable."
Frieren mumbled to herself. Even though it ca straight from Flam's mouth, she still held so doubt.
"It's not that unbelievable…"
From behind Frieren, a small yet imposing figure slowly approached.
"Demonkind born from the Mythic Era… are always a bit abnormal."
The newcor spoke as if she were very familiar with that ancient era.
"Serie…"
Frieren turned her head at the sound of the voice, visibly surprised when she saw who it was.
It wasn't just because she hadn't sensed any magic fluctuations from Serie.
More importantly, she had never seen Serie willingly step into a human city.
"Do you know that demon?"
Frieren didn't impulsively ask why Serie was there.
Because she knew that even if she asked, Serie wouldn't answer her.
Instead, she chose to ask a question that Serie might actually respond to.
"I'm a Great Archmage who's lived since the Mythic Era, Frieren…"
"In this world, aside from the Spell book left behind by the Goddess of Creation, there is nothing and no one I do not know."
Serie appeared beside Frieren on the stone railing in an instant,
Looking down at Frieren's curious eyes.
She explained to the only grand-disciple Flam had ever brought before her:
"Agusheed. He is a high-ranking demon born in the late Mythic Era.
Although he is part of the Demon King's army, he refuses to follow the Demon King's commands."
"They say it's because he was born with a human-like capacity for emotion, sothing no other demon possesses.
He wouldn't follow the Demon King's orders to slaughter other races."
"Because of that, about one hundred and fifty years ago, I went to find him out of sheer curiosity…"
Serie paused for a mont, as if recalling her eting with Agusheed.
"And? Did he really possess human emotions?"
Serie's well-tid pause stirred Frieren's curiosity.
"And the result…"
Serie chuckled softly.
Standing atop the stone railing, she looked far off at her disciple dancing with the demon.
"When I found him, he had already forgotten the emotions he once possessed."
"I made the trip for nothing, and left empty-handed."
The answer was unexpected. Frieren glanced over at Agusheed, who was getting stepped on again by Flam,
And then back at Serie, who now wore a faintly dangerous smile.
"You didn't kill him?"
"Do you think I'm the kind of person who kills just because I'm in a bad mood?"
Frieren nodded honestly at Serie's question.
This rare honesty made Serie, who always thought little of her, give her a second glance.
"Well, I suppose I am that kind of person.
But back then, I truly wasn't in the mood to kill him."
Frieren blinked, looking even more astonished.
"Why not?"
Serie flicked Frieren's forehead lightly with her finger.
"Because I found his idea of trying to reclaim his emotions quite interesting. I decided to let him go for the fun of it."
"But now that I think about it, my thoughtless decision back then ended up causing big trouble…"
During my ten years of researching the Divine Era's magic, he quietly took my disciple away from …
Serie watched as Agusheed placed his hand on Flam's waist during the dance.
She had no doubt that if she could do it over again, she would have turned Agusheed into ashes right then and there.
"Big trouble?"
Frieren thought for a mont and pointed towards Flam and Agusheed.
"You an him staying by Flam's side is a danger to her?"
Thud—
A gentle tap landed on Frieren's head. Serie shook her head, clearly disappointed.
"Luckily, no."
Frieren rubbed her head, ready to protest against the old mage in front of her.
But then she paused, realizing sothing was off with Serie's words.
Frieren froze, replaying what Serie had just said in her mind.
Confirming she hadn't misheard, she finally realized why she felt sothing was wrong.
Serie said… luckily?
That ant she believed if that demon did harbor ill intentions toward Flam—
Even she wouldn't be able to save Flam?
That… that was just too unbelievable.
"You don't understand why I said it's lucky he doesn't intend to harm Flam?"
Serie rested her hand on her cheek, watching the dance reach its final act. She explained without looking back at Frieren.
"If you only compare their raw magical power and understanding of magic theory, that demon isn't much stronger than Flam."
"But in pure combat… Flam would never be able to overco the magic he possesses."
That high-ranking demon… stronger than her master?
Even with Serie's direct confirmation, Frieren found it hard to believe.
Serie chuckled at the disbelief in Frieren's eyes.
"Don't believe ? I guess you haven't really seen Agusheed's magic yet.
Or maybe you saw it, but you didn't realize what it was."
Serie's laughter only made Frieren more confused.
"His magic is…"
Before she could finish her question, Frieren suddenly recalled what happened a few hours ago.
—At that ti,
When she instinctively fired off Thunderous Destruction Release Magic at Agusheed—
In that instant before it struck,
It had been sliced apart by sothing that appeared out of nowhere…
Even a small lock of her hair had been cut off.
At the ti, Frieren hadn't sensed any magic from the attack.
So she hadn't even considered it to be magic.
But now, with Serie's hint, Frieren began to understand.
It was probably so kind of magic that couldn't be perceived as "magic" by any mage.
Recalling that mont when Agusheed's magic touched her hair…
"A slash?"
Frieren asked Serie with uncertainty.
Seeing Frieren deduce the answer so quickly, Serie lowered the hand she had intended to raise.
"You guessed right. His magic is indeed a slash."
"More precisely, it's a Magic of Severing All Things."
"Sever… all things?"
Frieren repeated the key words, disbelief evident in her tone.
Serie caught the uncertainty and nodded to confirm.
"Severing all things is not an exaggeration. At least from what I've seen, his slashes can even cut through space."
"And—his slashes cannot be defended against."
Serie's words left Frieren utterly stunned.
"Impossible to defend against?"
Could such a magic truly exist?
Serie nodded, her expression serious.
"Since you've seen him use it, you should already know—"
"Mages cannot sense any magic from his slashes."
"When magic cannot be perceived as magic, there's no defense against it."
Serie spoke to Frieren with a rare severity.
"As of now, Agusheed's magic is the most destructive attack magic I've ever seen—"
"In terms of efficiency in killing, only Qual the Corrupt Sage's Killing Magic can rival it."
Frieren suppressed the shock brought by the Magic of Severing.
She brought the conversation back to its original point:
"If he doesn't intend to harm Flam, then what did you an by 'big trouble,' Serie?"
"Heh…"
This wasn't the first ti Frieren had seen Serie smile.
But it was the first ti she saw the ancient mage laugh bitterly.
"Frieren, do you know why I ca here?"
Despite the visible intensity radiating from Serie, Frieren couldn't resist her curiosity.
"Why?"
Serie pulled out a parchnt letter.
"It was an invitation from Flam herself."
Serie read out the final line of Flam's handwriting, word by word:
"She wrote—"
"To attend her wedding."
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