When Rhodes found Serie, she was standing on the highest terrace of the citadel, looking down at the city below.
"We are ready to depart," Rhodes said, stepping up to stand beside her.
Serie did not turn her head. She continued to gaze into the distance, her tone flat and unreadable. "Destination?"
It was a practical question.
Their presence in this city was never part of a grand design; it was rely a detour necessitated by the trouble Flam and Ela had caused. Now that the imdiate issue was resolved, they were left drifting.
Although the threat of the Demon King still hung over the horizon like a dark cloud, until Rhodes could devise a thod to permanently seal or kill him, there was little for the Great Mage to do but wait.
They were, for the mont, wandering without aim.
It was this lack of purpose that had driven Serie to drink out of sheer boredom yesterday—a decision that had led to the... incident that followed.
Rhodes, however, seed to have already considered their path. Or rather, this was the conclusion he had reached after discussing it with the elf.
He turned his head, looking at Serie's delicate profile. "Let us go to the Kingdom of Ersten."
Serie's gaze shifted slightly. She finally withdrew her attention from the horizon and looked at him, a silent question in her eyes.
Rhodes smiled. "Have you forgotten? Yesterday, we discussed establishing a Continental Magic Association. We might as well take this opportunity to complete the first step of the plan."
The human nations of this era were nurous.
However, the Kingdom of Ersten—located in the center of the continent—was the ideal nation for humanity. It was the cradle of modern civilization and, more importantly, the undisputed Kingdom of Magic.
It was famous for its reverence for the arcane arts, making it the perfect testing ground for standardizing magical practices. The most prestigious magic academy on the continent was already located there, which would make establishing an Association significantly easier.
The Southern Unified Empire, by contrast, was too rigid. Their restrictions on magic were severe; generally, only the nobility were permitted to study it. Commoners had almost no access to grimoires or mana training. It was no place to build a foundation.
As for the fractured nations of the East and West, they were simply too chaotic. Their attitude toward magic was hardly better than that of the South.
Recently, the Southern Empire had even begun extending its claws toward those regions. Barring any unforeseen variables, those smaller nations would likely submit to the Empire soon enough.
Rhodes had no intention of interfering with that political struggle.
Helping the Kingdom of Ersten previously had been a special exception—it was, after all, the nation founded by his old friend, Norne. Rhodes could not sit idly by and watch Norne's legacy be swallowed up.
Besides, humanity needed at least one "ideal kingdom" to look up to.
Hearing that this involved the Continental Magic Association, a flicker of interest finally lit up Serie's eyes.
She had been intrigued by the concept last night, but the subsequent kiss had thrown her mind into such disarray that she hadn't been able to process it. Today, she had intended to discuss it properly with Rhodes, only for Flam to intercept him and drag him off to the market.
Although Serie had eventually tracked them down, Flam's emotional instability had made any serious conversation impossible. Now that Rhodes was bringing it up himself, Serie was listening.
"Very well," she replied, her voice firm. She clearly approved. "The quality of the magical seedlings there seems to be higher than in other places."
"It is ho to the most famous academy, after all," Rhodes said, his tone taking on a teasing edge. "Once we arrive, perhaps you might consider taking on a few more apprentices?"
Serie frowned instantly, a look of distaste crossing her face. "I do not accept apprentices lightly. My standards are exceptionally high." She glanced at Rhodes, lifting her chin with a touch of pride. "Do you think just anyone can et the standard of Flam? Even she is barely passable."
She said "barely," but Rhodes knew better. He could hear the underlying pride; she was actually quite satisfied with Flam. If she weren't, a mage of her arrogant disposition would never have passed down her most prized spells to a human.
Rhodes smiled but said nothing, choosing not to expose her true feelings.
He knew Serie's nature well. Her threshold for entry was impossibly high, but once soone crossed it, they entered her world completely. She would do everything in her power to satisfy their thirst for magic, molding them into a mage of terrifying caliber.
A brief silence fell over the terrace.
Suddenly, as if recalling sothing, Serie turned to Rhodes. Her voice sounded casual, but the slight furrow of her brow betrayed a rare, almost imperceptible concern.
"Where is Flam? Is she... recovered?"
Serie was not an emotionally delicate person, nor did she fully understand the source of human outbursts, but she was not blind. She had seen Flam's strange reaction in the restaurant and her frantic escape.
At the ti, she had seemingly delegated the issue to Rhodes with indifference. But in truth, she was bothered by it.
Her intuition told her that Flam's loss of control was related to her. And to this man.
Flam was, after all, one of only two apprentices Serie had ever acknowledged—a rare human she was willing to invest her ti in.
Hearing the question, Rhodes turned to look at her. His expression was complicated.
It was a look of helplessness and distress, mixed with the look one gives a co-conspirator who doesn't realize they are part of the cri.
Serie felt a strange chill under that gaze. It was as if she had done sothing wrong without knowing it. "Why are you looking at like that?" she asked directly.
Rhodes sighed, his shoulders slumping with a deep sense of powerlessness. "It is nothing. I just think... Flam can be incredibly stubborn. Even I cannot think of a good way to talk her down."
"Talk her down?" Serie's confusion deepened. "What does she need to be persuaded about? And... even you cannot do it?"
In Serie's eyes, the bond between Rhodes and Flam was absolute—far closer than the bond she shared with the girl. Flam's reliance on Rhodes was visible to anyone.
If Rhodes couldn't fix the problem, how severe was it?
Seeing her complete lack of awareness, Rhodes felt the weight in his chest grow heavier.
He shook his head. "It is precisely because we are so close that there are certain things I am powerless to change."
He chose not to reveal Flam's feelings just yet.
For one, he hadn't decided how to handle it. For another, he could foresee the outco: if he told Serie now, given her possessive and domineering personality, the situation would instantly escalate into a battlefield.
It was better to maintain this fragile peace for a little longer.
Serie, however, was completely lost. Too close, therefore powerless? What kind of logic was that?
"I do not understand," she said flatly. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing. You only need to know that my advice would not only be useless, it would likely backfire."
Serie's frown deepened. She hated it when this man spoke in riddles. She opened her mouth to press him further, but the sound of approaching footsteps cut her off.
They both turned.
Walking from the other end of the corridor were Flam, Ela, and trailing behind them, Frieren.
Flam had clearly taken ti to compose herself. She had changed into a pristine white mage's robe. There were no traces of tears on her face; instead, she radiated a strange, intense vitality.
Her eyes were frighteningly bright, carrying an aura of unstoppable montum.
Ela followed, looking slightly confused, as if she hadn't quite grasped the situation.
Frieren brought up the rear, looking equally puzzled. Her confusion, however, was directed at Flam. The elf couldn't understand how Flam, who had simply stepped out for a al, had returned looking like a completely different person.
Even Serie was intrigued. She noted the stark contrast between this Flam and the girl who had fled earlier.
But what happened next exceeded even the Great Mage's ancient understanding.
Flam walked straight up to Rhodes. She looked up, her red eyes burning with an undisguised, scorching emotion.
Without a word of warning, and without a shred of hesitation, she threw her arms open and hugged him.
Right in front of Rhodes's stunned face.
Serie: "!!!"
The elf froze.
She could tell instantly—this was not the hug of an apprentice seeking comfort from a master. This was a hug laden with a very different, very specific intent.
Flam's cheek pressed intimately against Rhodes's chest as she recklessly vented her affection.
"Master Rhodes!" Flam's voice was crisp and loud, ringing across the terrace. "I love you!!!"
For a mont, the air on the terrace seed to freeze solid.
Ela's eyes went wide. She looked as though she had seen a ghost.
Serie's expression solidified into stone.
She stared at Flam, who was clinging tightly to Rhodes. She looked at Rhodes, who, while not hugging back, had not imdiately pushed the girl away.
At first, there was only confusion in Serie's eyes, as if her mind could not process the visual data.
Then, the confusion receded like a tide, replaced instantly by an emotion she had never felt before.
It felt as though sothing precious had been snatched away.
No. Not as though.
It was.
Her Rhodes had been stolen by her apprentice.
The indifference that usually masked her face cracked, revealing genuine shock and disbelief. And then, the air around her grew sharp.
Flam felt the icy glare coming from Serie.
But instead of letting go, she hugged Rhodes tighter. She turned her head slightly, eting Serie's gaze head-on.
There was no fear in her eyes. Only a challenge.
She had planned to take things slowly. But since her feelings had already been exposed to her teacher, and since Rhodes's attitude remained so ambiguous, she had decided to stop hiding.
She was playing her cards face up.
She was openly, and boldly, challenging her other revered master for the man they both wanted.
Rhodes felt the trembling but determined body of the young girl in his arms. He felt the temperature drop as Serie's gaze bored into him.
He closed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.
It had co.
And it had co in the most direct, disastrous way possible.
~~~
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