Between Master and Disciple

In the afternoon, sunlight streamed through the tall arched windows of the Continental United Academy, casting warm dappled patterns on the floor of the lounge, creating a tranquil and peaceful atmosphere.

As always, Frieren was nestled in a super soft beanbag chair by the window, like a cat sunbathing, her long silver hair spread out on the cushions like moonlight.

She was still holding the magic book in her hands, her emerald eyes half-closed as she intently scanned the ancient runes on the pages. Occasionally, when she saw something interesting, a smile would unconsciously appear on her lips, and her bare feet, dangling over the edge of the sofa, would swing gently twice.

Fern sat not far away from her on a low stool more suited to her height, her posture upright, her hands neatly placed on her knees. Her short, dark purple hair was meticulously combed, tied into a perfect bow at the back of her head with a striking red ribbon.

A book titled "Introduction to Basic Magic Theory" lay open on her lap. Her small hand gripped a quill pen tightly as she diligently worked out some calculations on a piece of scrap paper beside her. Her face was tense, and her brows were slightly furrowed, as if she were tackling some world-class problem.

The only sounds in the room were the rustling of turning pages and the soft scratching of a pen on paper.

After a while, Frieren seemed to temporarily detach herself from the world of the book, yawned slightly, looked up, and her gaze fell on the small figure opposite her.

She blinked, as if suddenly thinking of a trivial but intriguing question, and lazily broke the silence with her words:

"Fern."

"Yes, Frieren." Fern immediately stopped writing, looked up, and gazed at her with almond-shaped eyes, her expression questioning.

"Do you like magic?" Frieren asked.

Fern put down her quill, thought about it seriously for a moment, and unconsciously squeezed the pen handle with her small hand. Her voice was soft but clear. "I like it."

"Really?" Frieren looked at her, her gaze somewhat unfocused. "But you study harder than many others." She pointed out a fact. After these few days of instruction, she could sense that Fern's focus and diligence in magic far surpassed that of her peers. That earnestness sometimes reminded her of a noisy but equally hardworking little one from long ago.

Fern lowered her head, looking at the unfinished, complex formula on the paper, and said softly, "Fern just wants to meet her parents' expectations." Her voice was soft, but there was an undeniable firmness in it.

"Is that so?" Frieren responded noncommittally, her gaze drifting back to her book, as if it had been a casual question.

The room returned to silence.

After a while, Fern's voice rang out again, tinged with a barely perceptible curiosity. "Speaking of which, why did Lady Frieren take Fern as her apprentice?"

Frieren's fingers, which were turning the page, paused almost imperceptibly. She looked up and saw Fern looking at her quietly, her almond-shaped eyes filled with the pure curiosity of a child.

"Hmm..." Frieren's eyes began to dart around, subconsciously avoiding Fern's gaze. Her fingers unconsciously began to twirl a strand of silver hair that fell to her chest. Her tone became somewhat indistinct, even carrying a hint of slight grievance at being caught off guard, "That... Lowell said... seeing your extraordinary physique, you're a magical prodigy, one in a million..."

Fern watched her quietly, her small face expressionless, but her clear almond-shaped eyes remained unblinking, clearly reflecting Frieren's somewhat guilty expression.

Frieren grew increasingly uncomfortable under her gaze. She quickened her movements while curling her hair, and her voice trailed off, almost muttering, "The heavy responsibility of maintaining world peace in the future... uh... will fall on your shoulders..."

"The truth?" Fern interrupted her calmly, his tone devoid of any emotion, yet carrying an unwavering firmness that brooked no evasion.

"..." Frieren choked completely, her fingers, which were twirling her hair, froze. Her emerald eyes narrowed guiltily into slits, her gaze darting between the ceiling, bookshelves, and floor, finally muttering in an almost inaudible voice:

"... I want you... to help me cook... and feed me... and... help me change my clothes..." She lowered her head and tapped her fingers, her voice growing softer and softer until the last few words were almost muffled.

After saying that, she secretly raised her eyelids and glanced quickly at Fern, like a little animal that had done something wrong and was afraid of being scolded.

Fern continued to watch her quietly, his face expressionless, only nodding slightly and saying in his characteristic, steady childlike voice, "It's alright, Lady Frieren. You teach Fern magic, so it's only right that Fern take care of you."

Frieren paused, seemingly surprised that she accepted this almost too-realistic reason so easily. She tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "... How did you know I was lying?"

Fern raised her small hand and pointed to Frieren's fingers, which were still unconsciously twirling in her hair. "Whenever Lady Frieren tries to hide something, she looks like that—her fingers fidgeting and her eyes darting around. It's very easy to tell."

Frieren followed her gaze to her own fingers, which were twisting her hair. She abruptly released her grip as if burned, awkwardly lowering her hand. Her fingertips unconsciously tapped her knee as she whispered in protest, "... I didn't..."

Fern didn't dwell on the issue. Instead, she changed the subject, a serious look appearing on her face. "However, Lady Frieren trying to lie is wrong."

"Uh..." Frieren was speechless, her fingers tapping faster on her knee.

"So," Fern continued, her tone still calm but carrying an uncompromising edge, "You have to buy Fern desserts as compensation."

"Ah?" Frieren's eyes widened slightly, and her face instantly showed a pained expression as if her beloved treasure was about to be taken away. "This... this... I, I have no money..." As she spoke, her hand subconsciously reached for her hair again, but she forcibly restrained herself and instead dug her fingertips into the edge of the sofa even harder.

Fern looked at her quietly, then blinked. "Lady Frieren is lying again."

"I don't..."

"Lady Lilisa told Fern," Fern stated calmly, "That you have a habit of hiding money, which you keep in a secret compartment of that suitcase. Now, because you continue to lie, you'll have to buy double."

Frieren froze completely, her fingers gripping the sofa hanging in mid-air. Her emerald eyes stared at Fern in disbelief, as if she had been struck by lightning. Several seconds later, she let out a long sigh tinged with an extremely faint moan:

"Waaah... didn't we agree that I came here to find an apprentice to take care of me...?"

She hugged her knees, burying half her face in her arms, revealing only her pair of tearful, wet, emerald-green eyes as she stared at Fern, making a last-ditch effort.

Fern looked at Frieren's aggrieved expression, as if all her candy had been taken away, and the corners of his mouth curved slightly, but he quickly regained his usual obedient expression.

She stood up, reached out her small hand, and gently patted her silver hair. Then she sat down again, picked up her quill pen, lowered her head, and whispered:

"Fern will take good care of Frieren," she said earnestly, "But lying is wrong, so we'll buy dessert too. Put it on the tab this time."

Frieren looked at the small figure opposite her who had already resumed his calculations, then glanced at Lowell beside her who was suppressing a laugh and whose shoulders were trembling slightly. In the end, she just sighed dramatically, reached out and ruffled Fern's soft hair, and picked up the spellbook again.

Lowell, who had been pretending to read a book in the corner but actually watching the whole thing, finally couldn't help but let out a low, muffled chuckle.

"Oh, right." Little Fern suddenly looked up again, as if she had just remembered something very important, "Lord Lowell was laughing just now, and he also bears responsibility for not stopping Lady Frieren from lying. So, you'll have to pay half for the treat."

Lowell: "?!" The smile on his face vanished instantly.

Oh, no, the smile won't disappear, it will just shift—now, it's Frieren's shoulders that are starting to twitch suspiciously, even though she's buried her face in her hands.