Chapter 25 What a Proper Disciple Should Be Like
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At the first light of dawn, the sky was turning a soft, pale blue, with a delicate mist lingering over the winding river.
Three figures walked slowly through the haze.
Although Flamme had mentioned they were going to report to her master, she didn't seem to be in any particular hurry. They took their time along the way, more like tourists than people on a mission. At times, they would pause in a flower-filled meadow to enjoy the tranquility, or climb onto large rocks to take in the scenic views of green waters and lush mountains.
Sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting dappled shadows across their path. Their journey felt more like a casual outing than a serious quest.
Despite this relaxed pace, Flamme still taught Frieren as they traveled. Ash, always eager to learn, joined in, though this caused Flamme a bit of a headache. She seemed to have some unspoken concerns, but in the end, she brushed them aside and continued teaching them both.
It took the trio nearly half a year to cross the border into the neighboring country, their slow progress due to the leisurely nature of their journey. They rarely covered more than a few steps each day.
When they finally neared the ruins where Serie lived, they stopped at the expansive flower fields beside the ruins, intending to rest there for the night. The ruins were likely still in disrepair, so camping outside seemed like the best option.
The flower field stretched as far as the eye could see, like a carefully arranged tapestry spread out beneath the sky. The sunlight peeked through the clouds, casting a golden glow over the blossoms, creating a scene reminiscent of a fairy tale. Yet, despite the beauty of the sight, Frieren showed no interest, stepping directly on the flowers as she walked.
"Come to think of it, why is there such a large flower field here?" Ash asked, picking a small bunch of flowers and glancing at Flamme curiously.
"This?" Flamme smiled as she looked at the sea of blooms. "This is a gift I created for my master."
"Serie? Really? Is she that into flowers?"
"No, not really. Master doesn't seem to like them much."
"...Then what's the point?" Ash asked, puzzled.
"I like them," Flamme replied simply.
"Doesn't seem like something that suits you."
"I know," she said, looking wistfully over the flowers. "But this was the first magic my parents taught me when I was little. It's the reason I fell in love with magic in the first place. This sea of flowers is big enough that, even when I'm no longer around, it will still be here to keep my master company... That's how I see it."
"..."
Frieren, who had been listening silently to their conversation, widened her eyes slightly, feeling a bit confused by Flamme's words.
Turning to Ash, she asked, "I understand the master's reasons, but what about you? Why do you like magic so much?"
"For survival," Ash answered, playing with the flowers in his hand, a faint trace of helplessness in his expression. "And... my sister has high hopes for me."
"Then you should strive not to disappoint her," Frieren said earnestly.
"...Actually, I think it's better to let her down," Ash replied with a sigh.
"Huh?" Frieren blinked, baffled.
The master's explanation and Ash's response left her confused. She couldn't quite grasp the complexity of human emotions.
Flamme noticed Frieren's confusion and sighed, patting her shoulder gently. "Don't worry too much about it. It's not just you—most people don't understand what he means."
...
The next day, they left the sea of flowers and ventured deep into the ruins. Eventually, they arrived in the familiar, grand hall.
At the far end of the hall, the petite blonde elf, Serie, sat on her throne, looking as bored as ever.
As they entered, Frieren followed Flamme's lead, kneeling on one knee before her master.
At this moment, Serie showed an amused smile but turned her gaze toward Ash, who was sitting cross-legged beside her, reading a book.
"Hey, kid over there, did you see that? This is how a proper disciple should behave."
"...Can you stop picking on me all of a sudden? Besides, don't you hate all that formal etiquette stuff?" Ash replied without even looking up, his eyes still glued to the book in his hands.
"Who said that? What I value most is etiquette!"
"...Then how about you stop putting your feet on the chair and actually sit properly?" Ash glanced at Serie, who wasn't sitting, standing, or even squatting in a proper manner. He was too tired to even complain further.
"Tsk, you're really sharp when it comes to these things." Being chided by her own disciple made Serie click her tongue. "Who do you think has been supporting you this whole time?"
"...Instead of that, why don't you let Flamme and Frieren get up already?"
"I don't mind. I'm the elder here, after all! And this whole situation? You caused it. What? Feeling guilty now?"
"Not at all. I'm not the one kneeling, nor the one being knelt to, so this has nothing to do with me."
"Where's your sense of responsibility?"
"Please don't expect too much from someone my age, okay?"
"...Forget it, I'll deal with you later." Serie paused mid-sentence, then looked at the two still kneeling before her. Her smile softened, a stark contrast to the one she gave Ash.
"Time flies. I took on a disciple out of curiosity, and now there's a grand-disciple so soon?"
"This is Frieren," Flamme said, smiling and nodding.
"Elves, huh? Impressive. I like that. Tell me, what magic do you want to learn? I'll teach you."
"Is this what Ash mentioned before... the transfer of magic?" Frieren asked.
"Yes, I've mastered almost all magic. Just name it, and I'll let you have it instantly."
"Give it to Ash."
"...What?" Serie was stunned for a moment. She then shot a look of annoyance at Ash. "You, are you coercing her'?"
"The process of exploring magic is the most exciting part... That's why I declined. And Ash didn't even want it, but he offered it to me," Frieren explained.
"You're really shameless." Serie rolled her eyes at Ash after hearing that.
Ash, completely unfazed, responded naturally, "Fortune favors the bold."
"Ugh, I'll deal with you later." Serie waved him off, turning back to Flamme. "Your disciple has no drive. She lacks that endless ambition."
"I think—"
"You're even worse," Serie interrupted. "Too much ambition. I hate that too."
As soon as Ash opened his mouth to speak, Serie shut him down with one simple remark.