Chapter 75 — Serie's Premonition
The Full Moon Ball came to an end.
Most of the guests departed with smiles on their faces and wine still lingering in their breath.
Flamme was genuinely exhausted now—especially after everything that had happened tonight.
"Elias… tonight was far too dangerous. Who would've thought the demons had already—"
"You're worrying too much, Flamme," Elias interrupted calmly.
"Danger is precisely why I'm here."
He slowly raised his hand and gently brushed the blue gemstone set into the medal on his chest.
"Two thousand years ago understanding where the old dwarf learned it from, Serie picked up a charm spell from somewhere."
"She used it to test whether I possessed normal male emotions."
Elias let out a quiet chuckle.
"Heh. The result was obvious. She sulked on the outside while secretly coveting my nearly flawless Mind-Sealing Technique."
"Perhaps from that very day, she had already begun planning how to use my Mind-Sealing Technique against mental-type spellcasters."
"…What?"
Flamme couldn't help but picture Serie's face—
that infuriating smile that always looked like she was ten steps ahead of everyone else.
Two thousand years ago…
Had her teacher truly foreseen this moment that far back—and begun laying the groundwork then?
Seeing the chill creep into Flamme's expression, Elias smiled as if he'd expected it.
"Flamme, it seems you still don't fully understand what Serie's premonitions really are."
"The so-called 'premonition' isn't some kind of magic that predicts the future."
"She simply takes thousands of years of memories—people, events, patterns—and links them together, piecing together a world that can be imagined."
"Just as a magic that can be imagined is destined to be realized, things that can happen inevitably will happen."
"That's the law of observing the world."
"She just happens to have lived long enough to see everything come true."
Flamme inhaled sharply.
Such a precise and profound interpretation—
even coming from a demon, it was impossible not to be convinced.
"…Alright, Elias."
"Putting aside my teacher's commission and the artifact you're searching for…"
"You still need to keep an eye on Frieren."
"I've already warned her not to get close to Lady Leiya, and not to touch any unfamiliar stones."
"…Hah."
Elias turned his head and glanced at the white-haired elf.
Frieren looked like a perfectly round lump of dough, being enthusiastically squeezed by the three noble girls while they showered her with praise.
"Don't worry, Flamme."
"She's completely immersed in it right now."
"But you—besides Serie's task, you should also head back to the village from time to time."
"The villagers might already think we've all vanished."
"Heh. I know."
Flamme nodded with a gentle smile.
To be honest, for a split second she had doubted her own ears.
The man's final reminder…
was actually asking her to look after the village.
It was almost unbelievable.
Had a demon who had wandered for a thousand years finally found his way home—
in just eight short years?
Flamme couldn't help but recall that day eight years ago, when she first infiltrated that dilapidated old village and confronted Elias.
The feeling was impossible to put into words.
"All right, Elias," she said softly.
"No matter what happens… take care of yourself."
She turned and walked out of the banquet hall, but just before descending the steps, she suddenly stopped.
Lifting her head, she gazed at the moon—round and full amid a river of stars, just like this perfect night.
For a fleeting moment, it felt as though she could see two figures, dancing together upon the moon, surrounded by starlight…
Elias silently turned around.
The moment he looked at Frieren, his expression darkened.
"—Elias."
"Another mind transmission?" he scoffed lightly.
"Flamme, are you really that reluctant to leave?"
"—I only wanted to say one thing."
"The moonlight is beautiful tonight."
...
Even after Flamme's presence vanished along with the departing carriage, Elias remained standing there, wearing a puzzled expression.
The moonlight is beautiful?
He clicked his tongue.
Well… by human standards, tonight's full moon was indeed quite pretty.
No wonder Flamme felt the urge to say something like that.
At that moment, a figure approached swiftly and quietly stopped behind him.
"Steward Pierre," Elias said without turning around,
"are your footsteps always this light and quick?"
Elias turned to face him. Pierre immediately bowed slightly.
"You flatter me, Lord Elias."
"As a steward who must appear at a moment's notice, footwork magic is essential."
"That makes sense," Elias replied.
"But why do you call me 'my lord'? We should be colleagues within the estate."
"Oh no, no!" Pierre said hurriedly.
"You bear the Special Guard Medal, Lord Elias. I'm merely a humble steward."
Elias smiled faintly—yet he still sensed that familiar defensive killing intent beneath the surface.
"Very well, Steward Pierre."
"Are you here to escort me to my room?"
"N… no."
"Your room has already been arranged… it's right next to Lady Leiya's private chambers."
Pierre seemed uncomfortable continuing the conversation. His voice grew increasingly tense.
"General Theodore… wishes to see you."
Following Pierre's lead, Elias entered the master's chambers for the first time.
Though called a room, it was more like a smaller banquet hall.
Red carpets, chandeliers, dining tables, sofas—every detail lavish and immaculate.
Theodore stood by the window, his back turned, watching carriage after carriage leave the estate.
Pierre quietly closed the door behind them.
That deep, resonant voice sounded once more.
"Elias, how would you evaluate tonight's Full Moon Ball?"
The sudden question felt odd, but Elias decided to answer honestly.
"I was merely performing required actions."
"Heh… interesting."
"So you're not interested in dancing itself? That's quite a rare disposition."
"Coincidentally, there was someone similar in the Allied Army—someone else who disliked dancing."
"His reasoning was simple: music and laughter were nothing but noise to him."
Elias didn't respond, merely watching Theodore's back in silence.
Then, abruptly, Theodore turned around.
Moonlight revealed the long scar slashing across his right eye.
"That man's name was Erwin."
As expected, Elias showed no reaction.
A faint, unreadable smile lingered on Theodore's face as he slowly approached.
"A man who never cared for dancing… lost both hands and with them, any possibility of dancing forever."
"What an astonishing coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
"So, General Theodore," Elias replied calmly,
"are you dissatisfied with the outcome of the arena match—and with Erwin's fate?"
"Heh. The strong deserve to win. That's how it is on the battlefield."
"As for your magic, and Erwin's defeat, I have no objections."
At that moment, whether by moonlight or intent, a cold glint flashed in Theodore's eyes.
"However… for a soldier, overwhelming power is not the most important thing."
"Loyalty is."
Elias met his gaze in silence.
Despite having accepted the military's honor, General Theodore was still suspicious of him.
Had this man—hailed as the strongest mind on the human front—
seen through Serie's plan in a single evening?
Before Elias could think further, Theodore spoke again:
"Elias… even when standing before me—"
"You're still limiting your mana, aren't you?"
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