In the City's Inn
"Master, I'm coming in!"
"Wait! Hold on."
Serie stopped him, reaching out to grasp the "little bird" in her hand. After fiddling with it for a mont, the "bird" suddenly trembled, emitted a signal, and then… took flight.
It shot through the open window, stirring up a sonic boom in the air outside.
Watching the teorite Bird ssenger disappear into the distance, Serie finally rose from her chair and opened the door for Gut, who had been waiting outside.
"Master, what was that sound just now?"
As he stepped into the room, tray in hand, Gut imdiately turned toward the open window. The earlier noise had clearly co from there, and a lingering white streak still traced the sky where the creature had flown.
"Oh, that? That was a creature called a teorite Bird," Serie explained.
"It has a dragon-like physique and is impervious to magic attacks. It barely has any mana of its own, making it nearly undetectable by magical sensing. Most importantly, it can fly faster than the speed of sound."
"So, if one is successfully tad, it becos an excellent ssenger."
While she explained, Serie stretched and loosened her body a bit. She had been seated too long these past few days translating the purification spell into a teachable form—even her body had grown stiff.
"Did you already send the translated scroll to the Count? Also, what's that in your hands?"
Serie glanced at the tray Gut was carrying, the lid still covering its contents.
"Rest assured, Master, the scroll has already been delivered to the Count of Granat. As for this—it's a dessert I brought for you."
With that, Gut set the tray with his handmade ice cream on Serie's desk.
"Dessert, hmm?"
Serie, who hadn't eaten lunch yet, felt her appetite stir. Her mood had soured slightly after reading the ssage the teorite Bird delivered, and sothing sweet was just the redy she needed.
Lifting the lid, she revealed three neatly shaped ice cream scoops, each a different color and flavor, accompanied by a spoon.
Serie glanced at Gut—each of the flavors was one of her favorites. Thoughtful, she mused.
She scooped a bite and tasted it.
Standing nearby, Gut perked up, watching his teacher's expression closely for her reaction.
As the ice cream lted on her tongue and spread across her taste buds, Serie's expression subtly shifted. First a frown, then confusion. She tried all three scoops, just to confirm, before looking up at Gut.
"Did you buy this from a different shop?"
"Sort of. What do you think, Master?"
Serie pondered for a mont, then took another bite before offering her verdict.
"In terms of texture, it's smoother than what that café next to the inn serves. Ingredient-wise, they're almost identical—I can barely tell the difference."
"But… sothing feels off."
Gut chuckled awkwardly.
Well, of course it's smoother, he thought. There's no way a grandma hand-churning could beat soone like him—young, strong, and trained in Body Reinforcent Arts.
As for the ingredients, Gut had used the exact sa ones from the old lady's shop. The milk was probably even from the sa cow.
The difference had to lie in technique and experience. And having only made ice cream for two days, he still had a ways to go.
Serie studied his expression, then her eyes narrowed with realization.
"You made this ice cream, didn't you?"
"Mhm."
"Foolish."
Serie's tone was cold. "Human mages already have short lifespans, and you're wasting yours on things like this? I still have expectations for your future…"
She trailed off, then waved a hand.
"Forget it. Go back. How you spend your ti is ultimately your choice."
Dismissed, Gut nodded and left quietly.
Only after his footsteps faded down the hall did Serie sigh.
"Why can't any of them treasure their talents…"
Still, she glanced back at the dessert her disciple had prepared.
"It's not even that tasty."
"…But it's a gesture from my student. Can't let it go to waste."
Elsewhere, in Gut's Room
As Gut hung his coat on the rack, he heard the system chi in his head.
[Ding!]
[Daily Quest: One Good Deed – Complete]
He paused, then glanced back in the direction of Serie's room.
"So untruthful, Master…"
anwhile, at the Count's Estate
"I see..."
Count Granat inhaled deeply, overwheld by complex emotions.
He should be elated—the city's greatest threat, Aura the Guillotine, had been severely wounded by the Hero and her entire puppet army lost.
At the very least, until he passed his Count title and lands to his heir, he would not need to worry about any large-scale demon assaults.
But that one phrase from Hero Himl—"Let's bring them ho"—struck a chord of sorrow.
All those emotions converged into a long, heartfelt sigh.
Since the task was straightforward, the war council quickly finalized the timing and personnel for the recovery operation.
To avoid delaying the Hero's journey, they scheduled the mission for the next morning.
Commanders of the city's defensive forces volunteered as many personnel as possible without compromising local defenses.
After finalizing logistics, the Count turned to Miles, acting head of the Darlemonus rchant Guild, and asked:
"How's Lady Serie's progress on the purification spell?"
"Quite smooth," Miles replied, handing over a scroll. "Her student brought this earlier."
Unrolling it, the Count gently ran his fingers over the notes, visibly moved.
If Himl had solved the imdiate threat of Aura for this generation, then Serie's magic had solved the problem for every generation after.
"To think a spell could be developed this fast…"
Considering how human mages typically took years or even decades to research new spells, the Count couldn't help but be in awe.
"A legendary archmage, indeed… terrifying."
Suddenly, the Count seed to realize sothing. He handed the scroll to an elderly official in charge of the city's mages.
"Mr. Roy, how long would it take for our mages to learn this spell?"
Roy skimd the scroll carefully. After a long silence, he gave his verdict.
"To have all of them master it? At least two weeks."
Seeing the Count's hesitation, Roy added, "Don't even think about it."
"Even though Lady Serie has optimized the casting process and reduced mana usage…"
"Even our elite mages won't master it in a few days."
"And as for purifying an entire puppet army at once—the mana required is beyond us. Even combined, we'd barely scratch the surface."
"Unless…"
"Unless what?" the Count pressed, already suspecting the answer.
"Unless you can convince Lady Serie… to cast it herself."
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