Aura let out a long breath of relief upon noticing that Serie was unfazed.
For a moment, she thought she was doomed.
But since it was a result of Serie's magic, it couldn't be blamed on her, Aura.
Aura opened her mouth, intending to say some words of congratulations:
"Damn you, Serie! Using me as a test subject—may your ancestors' ashes be dug up for eighteen generations! With a damned elf like you around, it's no wonder the elves are destined for extinction! You are a sexually apathetic person with no desire. You have never had the desire to reproduce in your whole life, you'll die without leaving behind a single offspring! You and Frieren will wipe out the entire elven race at this rate! Elves are nothing but an incomplete, failed species—"
"Aura."
"What?" Aura tilted her head, looking just as innocent as could be despite being under the effects of the magic.
"I had already lifted the Revealing One's True Thoughts spell just now."
"Then why did I still feel an uncontrollable urge to insult you?"
"I developed a spell that makes people speak their true feelings, not one that manipulates minds. It cannot change what you truly think, Aura."
"...I'm sorry, Mistress Serie. I was wrong. I won't do it again."
Aura broke into a cold sweat, immediately falling to her knees in a deep bow, head pressed to the floor, not daring to lift it even a fraction.
"Aura, do you know what function the collar on your horn serves?"
"I... I don't really know."
"Even if you were thousand miles away, if I so wished, I could send a single thought that would cause thin threads to grow from within it, burrowing into your horn and creeping toward your brain."
"Please... please don't do that!"
"Demons are known for their resilience, right? I'm quite curious—if those threads were made just a little softer, causing only minor damage to the brain, how many days would a great demon writhe and struggle on the ground before finally dying?"
"Uuuu... uuuuuu... no... please, I beg you..."
"Aura, behave yourself. After all, you're quite a useful specimen—I assume you wouldn't want me to start using you as expendable material, would you?"
Serie stepped forward, crouching down in front of the prostrated Aura. With a delighted yet cruel gaze, she reached out and stroked Aura's fluffy purple hair, as if petting a misbehaving big cat.
"I... I-I-I... I'll never do it again... never again."
Hearing Serie's chilling description of death, Aura trembled all over, her voice choked with sobs. Tears, snot, and sweat pooled onto the floor, all trickling down toward Serie's feet.
'How obedient.'
Serie smiled in satisfaction. She reached out and flicked the purple collar on Aura's right horn—it was tight, unmoving in the slightest.
Of course it was. Serie had only placed three enchantments on it: Automatic Binding, Irremovable, and Indestructible—nothing more. The simplicity was what made it so perfectly stable. Even the Demon King wouldn't be able to take the collar off Aura's head.
As for what Zanze had told Aura—
That Serie could monitor Aura through the collar.
That Serie could call down thunderbolt from afar to turn Aura into charcoal.
That Serie could track Aura's every move, knowing her exact location at all times.
All of it—was nonsense Zanze had made up to mess with Aura.
Serie barely had enough time to study magic every day—where would she find the energy to keep an eye on Aura all the time? Or waste effort tracking her movements?
Serie couldn't be bothered. She had already delegated nearly all affairs of the Continental Magic Association to her disciples—what was a mere Aura to her? Was Aura going to somehow bring the whole association crumbling down?
And as for what Serie had just told Aura about the collar's threads burrowing into her brain—that, too, was a lie.
All the so-called lethal magic on the collar was completely fake!
But Zanze believed that even the fear of such magic would be enough to keep Aura obedient.
And now, Serie agreed.
Serie watched as the pool of tears on the palace floor widened to several meters, her eyes widening slightly in mild surprise. Finally, she patted Aura's shoulder, telling her to stand up, assuring her that she wouldn't pursue this matter any further.
Only then did Aura stand, though she was still sniffling pitifully. At least she no longer looked like the wretched mess she had been moments before, with sweat, tears, and snot all mixing together.
"I didn't call you here just to use you as a magic test subject. I have another task for you."
"If it is Mistress Serie's request, I, Aura, will see it done!"
"Then go teach at Hohenburg."
"...Huh?"
"The human magic system is now well-developed. While it hasn't yet reached the point where anyone can become a competent mage, it no longer requires the harsh natural talent it once did. Anyone can understand a portion of magical theory, and with dedicated study, even cast simple spells. The only difference is whether it takes someone ten years to learn their first spell or just one month.
"Magic associations now have branches in various nations, establishing academies across the continent to find those capable of learning their first spell within a month—individuals with true talent."
"And what does that have to do with me? Why should I go teach?"
"It's not just about teaching—it's about reforming the system.
"Flamme has mentioned to me many times about the rampant corruption in these magic academies—cliques, favoritism, collusion with nobility. Fixing these problems requires a strong mage with a solid understanding of human nature.
"Flamme is too busy. The other Great Mages are also too busy."
"Then why don't you go?"
"I don't necessarily understand humans better than you do."
Serie turned away, stepping onto her throne and picking up a grimoire once more.
She was well aware of her own nature. When it came to magic, no one in the world understood it better than she did. But when it came to political scheming and ambition? An elf, born with naturally muted emotions, could never truly grasp it.
Not that Serie had ever needed to.
When a single spell from her could obliterate a kingdom, no amount of political maneuvering could pose any real threat to her.
But brute force alone was too crude a method. Serie doubted that simply threatening destruction would solve the problem of magic education among humans.
The human world was infested with too many rats and cockroaches. Burning everything to the ground would leave behind nothing but ashes.
Instead—
Why not send in a cunning, unscrupulous demon?
Serie was eager to see how those human vermin—so adept at political games—would flounder helplessly before the schemes of a true monster.
'Now, that would be fun~~'