Leaving the forest behind, the group once again embarked on their journey.
Destination: The Kingdom of Ersten.
The atmosphere on the road was eerily calm—or rather, a stark contrast to the liveliness of their previous travels.
Granted, most of that liveliness had stemd from Flam's one-sided, fiery passion.
Now, Flam was behaving normally. Abnormally normal, one might say.
She still asked Rhodes about magic theory, discussing the confusion she encountered in her studies. She even brought out her startling concepts for Fusion Magic to debate with him. Her attitude was respectful and serious, returning completely to the state of an exemplary apprentice.
The intimacy and reliance she had once shown, along with the scorching love burning in her red eyes, had vanished without a trace.
She adhered strictly to the boundaries of a master-apprentice relationship. Beneath that respect lay a suffocating sense of alienation.
She no longer tried to get too close to Rhodes, nor did she speak or act in any way that crossed the line. It was as if that earth-shattering confession and the subsequent duel had never happened.
This change allowed Rhodes, who had been worried she might spiral into obsession, to breathe a sigh of relief. Yet, it also brought a deeper, different kind of unease.
Flam seed to have buried all her emotions deep beneath a calm shell, refusing to let even a sliver show.
Rhodes decided not to interfere too much.
To sever Flam's lingering thoughts, sotis cruelty was necessary. Besides, more than worrying about that, he wanted to focus on nurturing his relationship with the elf beside him.
Since that kiss, Rhodes had cast aside all his reservations, allowing his feelings to pour out freely.
At first, Serie had seed sowhat at a loss regarding this sudden shift in their relationship.
She was used to a millennium of tacit understanding and companionship. But now that this understanding was mixed with affection, she found herself struggling to adapt.
In a way, this was a good thing.
It ant the Great Mage was finally beginning to understand and accept what "love" was.
And so, she began trying to learn how to respond to Rhodes's affection.
Although her responses were often clumsy and awkward—perhaps just silently accepting his care, or looking back at him stiffly when he caught her eye—occasionally, she would cooperate. She would reach out, interlacing her fingers tightly with his.
Their intimate interactions were displayed without any attempt to hide them from the others.
For Ela and Frieren, two elves with relatively muted emotions, the impact of these displays was far less significant than it would be for humans. Ela was mildly surprised at most, occasionally glancing at Flam to gauge her reaction.
Frieren was simply curious. She found the small, intimate interactions between Rhodes and Serie incomprehensible.
For Flam, however, it was all too blinding. She would lower her head at the right monts or pretend to look at the scenery, trying her best to avoid witnessing these heartbreaking scenes.
But after seeing it enough tis, one eventually grows numb to it.
Her long red hair hung down, obscuring her eyes. No one knew what thoughts churned within, nor did anyone know what she was planning.
The journey continued in this delicate atmosphere.
Finally, they arrived once again at the Kingdom of Ersten.
passing through the bustling streets, the group arrived at the central plaza of the city. The massive statue of the first king, Norne, still stood tall, silently watching over the changes of the city. The only difference was the addition of a little more moss.
"Is this the Holy King Norne?" Ela asked curiously. This was her first ti in Ersten, one of the three most famous nations on the continent and the "Ideal Kingdom" in the hearts of humanity.
"Yes," Rhodes nodded, a trace of reminiscence flashing in his eyes. "So many years have passed, yet that guy's statue is still well-preserved."
"Mages have likely been maintaining it with preservation spells," Serie remarked. She could sense a trace of mana fluctuation from the stone.
"By the way, why didn't Lady Serie and Lord Rhodes leave any statues behind?" Frieren asked curiously from the side.
Of the heroes who saved the world in the beginning, only the Holy King Norne had left a statue. The others had left nothing—not even the Dwarven King, Som.
As a thousand years passed, the legends of these heroes were gradually being forgotten.
The Saint, Serie.
The God-slayer, Rhodes.
The Holy King, Norne.
The Dwarven King, Som.
The Sage, Eirik.
Olivia of the Sky-Winged.
The nas of the latter two were already fading from history. Even the Sky-Winged, a legendary race, were becoming unknown, rembered only by a few who knew of their past glory and the eternal kingdom in the sky, Dol-Anor.
"Because there was no ti," Rhodes shook his head. "Everything happened too quickly. Especially after killing the Goddess... the so-called 'Hero Party' went their separate ways almost imdiately."
Looking back, from exploring the dwarven ruins to being hunted by the gods, and finally to the decisive battle—it had all happened in a flash.
It was so fast that they didn't even have a chance to breathe. They acted purely on the will to save the world; naturally, there was no ti to pose for sculptors.
"So, Frieren!" Rhodes smiled aningfully. "If you go on adventures in the future, rember to leave plenty of statues behind!"
"Mn... I think I'll pass? It feels a bit weird."
Frieren thought about it and decided it wasn't necessary. She didn't need statues to prove she had been there. She was an elf, after all.
The group arrived at the palace gates and, unsurprisingly, were stopped by the guards.
"See? This is the downside of not leaving statues. No one recognizes you." Rhodes patted Serie on the head while smiling at Frieren.
"Shut up!"
Serie swatted the claw off her head in annoyance. Then, adopting a very forceful posture, she released a burst of her mana, directly dragging the old court mages out of the palace.
During their previous brief stay in Ersten, only a small number of people had t them, including the most senior mages.
"Lady Serie!?" One of the mages, the first to rush to the gate, shouted in surprise upon seeing her face.
"Where is that fellow, Fidel?" Serie asked unceremoniously, calling the current Emperor of Ersten by his na.
She had zero goodwill toward the man who had managed to lose his ancestor's holy sword.
Furthermore, he had been mind-controlled by a Sage of Destruction, and not a single mage in the palace had noticed. So had even been affected by the demon's ntal magic themselves.
How could the Kingdom of Ersten prosper in the hands of such insects?
"Ahem, His Majesty is attending to state affairs. Please, follow ."
The mages exchanged glances and collectively chose to ignore Serie's disrespectful tone.
They had no choice. They couldn't afford to offend her.
~~~
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