In a room within the Magic Association, the atmosphere was a bit awkward.
Alvin and the other junior disciples of Serie stood as if awaiting judgnt, their complicated gazes focused on the new assistant in the center of the room.
It was a young girl, appearing several years younger than the youngest among them.
She had beautiful silver-white hair, erald green eyes, and the iconic long ears of an elf. She wore the standard apprentice robe of the Magic Association, but the material seed more exquisite.
Small patterns were embroidered on the cuffs and collar. If they rembered correctly, they were the sa patterns embroidered on Senior Sister Flam's robe.
Her na was Frieren.
Senior Sister Flam's only personal disciple, an existence whom Lord Rhodes and Master Serie occasionally instructed personally.
Now, she had been sent to accompany them on their second, and even more dangerous, mission: capturing two more Counts from the list and escorting them to the Imperial Palace.
The mission was already more perilous than the last one. After the commotion they caused, the nobles of the capital, unless foolish, would have certainly strengthened their mansion defenses, perhaps even setting traps specifically targeting mages.
Originally, they thought that with the unfathomably powerful Senior Sister Flam holding the line, although the process would be difficult, their safety would at least be guaranteed.
But who could have expected that Senior Sister Flam would be temporarily transferred by Lord Rhodes to execute a more important mission!
"Ahem," Alvin, as the faint leader among them, braced himself to break the silence. He tried to squeeze out a friendly smile, though it appeared sowhat stiff. "Miss... Frieren? Please take care of us on this mission."
The hesitation in addressing her revealed the awkwardness in everyone's hearts.
According to the general hierarchy of the Magic Association, Frieren was Flam's disciple, and Flam was their peer under Serie.
Thus, they should technically be her seniors. However, the Magic Association disregarded such things, looking only at strength. Given her talent and frequent personal instruction from two grandmaster-level figures, her strength was definitely greater than theirs.
It was said that before she even beca Master Flam's disciple, she had single-handedly slain a figure at the level of a demon general.
Logically, an existence with such strength and talent should have caught Master Serie's eye and been taken as a disciple long ago. Yet, she was Senior Sister Flam's disciple.
The reasons behind this were sowhat intriguing.
Despite this, looking at Frieren's immature face and slender figure, doubts involuntarily arose in their hearts.
Can she do it?
One had to know that the number of experts gathered in the capital right now was not small, and presumably, there were quite a few in those Counts' mansions.
Frieren nodded first, acknowledging the greeting, then asked directly, "What is your operation plan?"
Her directness stunned Alvin for a mont, but he quickly collected his thoughts and briefly outlined their plan.
"The targets' mansions are located in the core of the noble district, separated by only one block. We have already gathered general layouts and guard patrol patterns for both residences. We plan to infiltrate like last ti, tie up the two Counts directly—allowing for continuous action—but..."
Legolas added, "Given that our last operation already alerted the enemy, both mansions are bound to be heavily guarded this ti. The risk is far greater than before."
"More guards will certainly be hidden inside, possibly even experts hired specifically to deal with mages."
"Our strength... to be honest, even self-preservation would be difficult in a head-on conflict. I wonder... are you confident in dealing with potential powerful enemies?" Legolas's tone carried a trace of nervousness.
This plan was inherently risky, its success rate heavily dependent on the support of high-end combat power.
Last ti, it was thanks to Miss Flam's tily intervention that they avoided being captured on the spot.
Facing Legolas's direct question, Frieren blinked her erald eyes and answered with utter frankness, "If it is a First-Class Mage level opponent or a seasoned high-ranking warrior, there is a high probability I cannot win either."
A suffocating silence spread through the training room.
Big Sister, are you this honest?! Not even a little polite reassurance?!
Frieren seed completely unaware of the group's near-collapse ntality. She continued analyzing in her cool tone, "My magical thods lean toward offense. I have not yet learned content related to defensive magic from Master Flam."
"Given sufficient preparation distance and casting ti, most mages are not my match. But once a combat-experienced warrior successfully closes in, it will be difficult for to contend."
Frieren had a very clear understanding of her current strength.
Her talent in magic was unquestionable, especially in offensive magic. After Flam's careful teaching and Rhodes's occasional guidance, her strength was top-tier among elves of her age, and considered excellent even within the entire mage community.
However, she had a very typical shortcoming—she was a pure, standard glass cannon type mage.
Her mana capacity was massive, and her magical lethality astonishing, but in close-quarters defense and responding to sudden attacks, she was far inferior to her teacher Flam.
Not to ntion figures like Master Serie and Lord Rhodes, who had long tempered themselves to a terrifying realm of near-invincibility, fearing nothing even if powerful warriors closed in.
Frieren knew very well that once a warrior of the sa level successfully closed the distance, her defeat was almost certain.
And those heavily guarded Counts' mansions would not lack warriors skilled in rushing and close combat.
However, looking at the ashen faces of her temporary teammates before her, she thoughtfully added a sentence: "Of course, if the opponents' strength is average, or if there are just many of them, it is not a big problem."
Everyone: "..."
That second half provided absolutely no comfort! Aren't the opponents we're worried about precisely the ones who aren't average?!
Looking at Frieren's frank expression, Alvin forcibly suppressed the surging sense of powerlessness in his heart and asked dryly, "Then... in your opinion, should we continue with this operation?"
"Of course we continue." Frieren answered without hesitation. "We have no reason to give up."
"But..." Thea couldn't help whispering, "at least arrange a bodyguard for us? Or let us train for a few decades before executing missions; it wouldn't be too late."
Her words drew the gazes of Alvin and the other humans.
As expected of an elf. Speaking of decades like they're days.
In a few decades, we'll be old n. What missions would we execute then? Might as well find a place to retire.
"Do not worry." Frieren spoke again. Her eyes were confident—not blind arrogance, but a certainty based on so trump card. "Just prepare according to the plan."
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