"I see."
Staring at the Mirror Lotus swaying in the water cup, Gut felt a little embarrassed by his earlier overthinking.
"Tsk-tsk—"
Serie crossed her right leg and began speaking with uncharacteristic seriousness.
"As a disciple, you're a bit too concerned about your teacher's romantic affairs."
"That's true," Gut nodded, not denying it at all.
"I can understand that." Serie didn't scold him for his candidness, but continued calmly.
"At your age, having certain thoughts is natural."
"But I advise you to give up on them early. There are so things that just aren't possible between us."
"Let's not even talk about status or emotional developnt—just the issue of ti alone is enough to sever any hope between us."
"I hadn't planned to say these things to you, but I'd rather not see you waste your remarkable potential on aningless pursuits."
"The choice that Hero Himl made was undoubtedly right. He knew he couldn't give Frieren eternity, so he extinguished the possibility from the start."
"That, in the end, was best for everyone."
"Is that so, Master?"
Gut, who had been staring at the ground, now lifted his gaze—his eyes eting Serie's.
"Because one fears there will be an end, they reject the beginning."
"Because one knows there will be parting, they avoid the encounter altogether."
"Indeed, the best way to avoid the end is to never let anything begin."
"But Master…"
"Just because flowers will fall… doesn't an we shouldn't plant them."
Gut turned to the Mirror Lotus, gently brushing its petals.
"Even a flower that symbolizes eternal love and companionship, like this, cannot physically last eternally."
"But in the hearts of two people in love, it is eternal—forever blooming in mory."
"Sotis, what we call eternity isn't about ti—it's about once having had it."
"No matter how the world changes, if the mory remains sweet, that's eternity too."
"That's how I understand it."
Serie fell into silence, contemplating her disciple's words. After a while, she finally responded.
"I have to admit, your insight is… unique."
"But unfortunately, I don't agree with your definition. I can't."
"It's like insects born in sumr who die by autumn. They can never understand winter. A mont of joy cannot outlast the erosion of ti."
"What I call eternity is everlasting—not 'once had.'"
"Is that so, Master?"
Gut chuckled in response to her counter, offering one of his own.
"Your view makes sense. But my version of eternity—you already understand it."
"In fact, you're already living it."
"That's impossible."
Serie frowned. Instinctively, she denied it.
But sothing flashed through her mind. Her eyes widened in realization.
"You an…"
"Exactly. Us—your disciples."
Gut affird gently.
"From the perspective of an elf like you, the lives of human disciples are but fleeting sparks."
"You barely get to teach us much, spend little ti together, and often we can't even say proper goodbyes before reaching our end."
"Every master-disciple relationship is short-lived for you."
"And yet, you never stopped beginning anew."
"Each impression of a disciple is your treasure—etched into your heart for eternity."
"Eternity isn't about endless ti. It's about mories that live on."
Serie—
With a long sigh, she finally ended the debate.
"You win. I can't outtalk you."
"Maybe your idea is right. And maybe… I've proven it myself."
"But not all bonds are equal. When it cos to lovers, I'm far more cautious than I am with disciples."
"Then give a chance, Lady Serie."
Gut raised his brow slightly, following her logic with a bold question.
"You're really gutsy."
Even though she expected a cheeky reply, Serie still found herself helpless in the face of Gut's directness.
She shook her head and gave a clear rejection.
"I seem to recall you said sothing before—about being long-lived?"
"Of course," Gut answered confidently. "I may be human, but my lifespan will surprise you."
"Then prove it."
Serie's tone turned serious. "If, decades from now, you're still here in this body, saying these sa words to —then I'll give you a chance."
"Deal?"
"Deal!"
With a firm high five, this promise—one that might change the nature of their relationship—was sealed.
anwhile, in the distant Strahl, the Holy Capital—
Heiter sighed as he prepared for the new king's coronation ceremony. Quietly, he began to count the days.
He wondered how long he had to endure this political pageantry before he could return to the Holy Capital.
By now, his and Himl's interpretation of the Spell Book chapter Pilgrimage of Ti · Wings of the Bird was almost complete.
All that remained was for Himl to retrieve the monks' annotation notes from a monastery near the Etwas Mountains in the Northern Nations.
It was likely that his old friend would complete the Goddess's Monunt decoding in his lifeti.
Such a pity, though…
As Archbishop of the Holy Capital, he had to maintain decorum at events like this.
Even when the wine at the banquet was truly worth tasting.
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