The First Exam Ends

The setting sun bathed the assembly point on the edge of the Grobe Basin in a warm orange-red hue.

The examinees returned one after another, almost all bearing the marks of battle. Some carried Birdcages, while others returned empty-handed.

Genau stood in the center of the assembly point. The rain had long since stopped, but he was soaked to the bone, his black hair plastered to his forehead, yet he still stood ramrod straight. Beside him, Sense stood holding her ornate lace-trimmed umbrella, her clothes completely dry.

"Time's up," Genau announced loudly, his voice carrying clearly throughout the arena. "Those who fail to return within the stipulated time, or whose teams are incomplete, are disqualified."

He began to count the group carrying Birdcages.

One, two...

In the end, all seven teams successfully brought the Stille back.

Frieren stood between Kanne and Rabiñe, a slight smile playing on her lips. Then, hands on her hips, she puffed out her small chest and smugly hummed to herself.

Kanne looked at Frieren: "We really owe it all to Frieren; the final plan was brilliant."

Rabiñe, unusually, did not refute, but simply stood aside with his arms crossed.

Not far away, Fern and Lanto stood together, their faces expressionless, simply watching the people beside them. Ubel leaned close to Fern, reaching out to pinch her cheek, but Fern expressionlessly brushed him off.

Duncan, Lichta, and Laufen stood a little further away. Duncan and Lichta still had obvious bruises and abrasions on their bodies, but their expressions were calm, as if those injuries didn't exist. Laufen, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, with a faint smile on his face that said, "It's finally over."

Edel stood with her bald teammate Bly and brown-bearded teammate Dunster, the three of them looking normal as they discussed something in hushed tones.

Wirbel, Ehre, and Scharf were also qualified, of course. Wirbel grinned, revealing a wild smile. Ehre had recovered somewhat, while Scharf looked shaken, occasionally moving his still numb hands and feet.

Methode stood under a tree, elegant and calm. Länge stood with her hands behind her back, a gentle smile on her face, her gaze sweeping over the qualified candidates present. Ton, on the other hand, crossed her arms, her brows slightly furrowed, occasionally glancing at Adonis not far away, a hint of resentment on her face.

Adonis stood beside Elder, a hint of helplessness on his handsome face. Elder was almost entirely leaning against him, his eyes half-closed, his head nodding slightly, clearly about to fall asleep. Adonis had no choice but to reach out and support him to prevent him from sliding directly to the ground.

Falsh stood at the edge of the examiners' line, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes behind his glasses fixed on the ground, muttering to himself, "Damn it... I actually lost..."

Obviously, losing at cards is a bit embarrassing.

Of the 83 candidates, only 20 passed.

"The above seven teams have passed the first round of testing," Genau announced solemnly. "The rest of you may leave."

The unsuccessful candidates dispersed in silence.

Genau looked at the 20 people who remained.

"The second round of exams will be held in three days. Specific details will be announced at that time."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, lingering especially on Frieren for a moment.

"Dismissed."

The crowd slowly dispersed, and the atmosphere relaxed.

Almost the instant Genau finished speaking, Frieren turned around and grabbed Fern's wrist.

"Let's go, Fern."

"Huh?" Before Fern could react, he was dragged by Frieren and hurried towards the city gate. Her steps were even a little rushed. "Lady Frieren, is there something you need in such a hurry?"

Frieren didn't stop walking, her silver hair fluttering in the evening breeze.

"Haven't you noticed?" She didn't turn around, her voice faster than usual, "Lowell's magic hasn't been detectable for a long time."

Upon hearing this, Fern immediately focused her mind and carefully sensed her surroundings. After a moment, she frowned slightly.

"Hmm, I can't sense any magical fluctuations from Lord Lowell. But that's not surprising, is it? After all, Lord Lowell is very good at concealing his magical power. And during the exam, I didn't extend my magical perception to a very wide range, so Lord Lowell was probably observing from a distance, right?"

She paused, then added, "Besides, what could possibly happen to Lord Lowell? He's so powerful. This is still within the territory of Oysast, and Lady Serie is here too."

Frieren shook her head and quickened her pace.

"... No, I could sense his magic before. In short, something's happened. Believe me."

Her tone was very certain, with an unquestionable certainty.

Fern looked at her serious profile, asked no more questions, and quickened his pace to catch up with Frieren.

The two walked through the increasingly bustling streets, trying to ignore the aromas of food wafting from the roadside and the tempting shop windows of magical artifact stores, and went straight back to their hotel.

The hotel corridor was quiet.

Frieren walked to the door and pushed it open without knocking.

Fern followed behind her, looking into the house.

Lowell was sitting on the edge of the bed by the window. The last rays of the setting sun bathed half of his body in gold. He was looking down, his black hair hanging down, making his expression unreadable.

It seems like nothing's wrong.

Fern breathed a sigh of relief, looked at Frieren, and whispered, "Lady Frieren, you see, everything's alright."

Then, Lowell, who was sitting on the bed, slowly and stiffly raised his head.

The setting sun illuminated his face.

That face, which always carried a lazy and easygoing expression, was now devoid of any smile, appearing somewhat blank. His lips were slightly pursed, the corners of his mouth turned down, and his entire face was scrunched up.

He just stared at Frieren at the door and blinked.

Then, without warning, large tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto his clothes.

"Frieren...!"

He let out a call that was thick with nasal tone and almost a sob, then sprang from the bed and pounced on Frieren was rushing toward the door.

Frieren stood still.

Lowell hugged her tightly, buried his face in her shoulder, and tears instantly soaked the fabric of her clothes.

"Frieren... Frieren... Frieren... Frieren..."

Fern was completely stunned, her pale purple eyes widening slightly as she stared at the unexpected scene before her.

She looked at Lowell, whose shoulders were shaking with sobs as he clung to Frieren as if she were his lifeline, and then at Frieren, who remained calm. For a moment, she didn't know what to say.

Then, Fern watched silently as Lowell's crying began to take on more varied forms.

He cried for a while, then suddenly let go of Frieren, plopped down on the floor of the room, stretched out his legs, and started swinging his arms like a child throwing a tantrum, gently pounding the ground with his fists while crying and mumbling Frieren's name.

He pounded on the pillow a few times, then got up again, knelt by the bed, buried his face in the pillow, and cried. Soon, the pillow was soaked. Then he pulled the blanket over his entire upper body, sat on the bed, and continued to cry, muffled sobs coming from under the blanket.

Exhausted from crying, he lay down on his side, curled up as if to take a nap, but tears still streamed from his closed eyes, soaking the sheets.

Then, as if remembering something, he got up again, crawled on all fours to get behind Frieren, and then pressed his forehead against her Frieren, crying as he gently bumped his head against hers.

After bumping into the floor twice, probably finding it too hard, he scrambled back onto the bed, pulled the blankets all over him, and wrapped himself up tightly like a cocoon. Then he sat inside the blanket cocoon and continued to sob in suppressed voices.

A few seconds later, perhaps feeling suffocated, he struggled out of bed again, staggered to the desk in the corner of the room, slumped onto the table, pressed his face against the cold wood, and continued to cry.

Then, for some reason, he set his sights on the wardrobe in the room. He moved a chair over and tried to climb onto the top of the wardrobe using it as a stepping stone. Halfway up, he slipped and almost fell. He frantically grabbed the edge of the wardrobe and finally managed to climb up. Then, sitting on top of the high wardrobe, he hugged his knees, looked down at Frieren, and started crying again.

After crying for a while, Lowell tried to climb down. But halfway down, she lost her footing and fell straight down, landing hard on her bottom.

"Waaah..." He clutched his aching ankle and continued to cry.

Frieren went over, helped him up, and sat him on the edge of the bed. He lay back on the bed, his head dangling off the edge, his forehead against the floor, in an extremely contorted position, continuing to sob softly.

After a while, he changed his posture again, like a character in some kind of defeat CG, kneeling on both knees, his upper body leaning forward limply, his forehead resting on the back of his hand, and his shoulders shrugging slightly.

Then, he staggered to his feet, walked over to Fern, snatched the staff from her before she could put it down, and waved it wildly, crying as he did so, tears streaming down his face.

"... My staff! Lord Lowell, please give it back to me!"

Lowell ignored her, waved the staff a few times, and then, probably finding it pointless, casually tossed it aside. He staggered to the window, stepped onto the windowsill, pushed open the window, leaned half his body out, and continued crying as he looked at the darkening sky outside.

"You'll fall!" Fern tried to go and pull him up.

Frieren stopped her and shook her head.

Lowell cried out a few times while looking out the window, but the evening breeze was probably a bit chilly, so he climbed back in on his own, walked to the center of the room, squatted down with his head in his hands, buried his face in his knees, leaving only a slightly trembling back view.

Lowell was crying everywhere.

His crying left traces in almost every corner of the room—tear stains on the floor, soaked pillows and sheets, dusty handprints on the top of the cabinet, watermarks on the windowsill...

"What's going on?" Fern asked in a low voice, incredulously. "Lady Frieren? You knew this would happen?"

Frieren nodded, her emerald eyes appearing calm in the dim light.

"Of course," she said flatly, even with a hint of taken for granted. "I'm very important. If I had come back any later, the situation could have been much worse."

So what's the reason for this?

Frieren looked at her, a slight smile playing on her lips, revealing a hint of smugness.

"Hmph~" she said softly, "Without me by Lowell's side for more than 24 hours, things could very well turn out like this. The longer it goes on, the worse it will get. Before, I could sense that he was watching our exam, but then his magic disappeared. Obviously, something happened."

Fern: "..."

She remained silent for several seconds before finding her voice.

"What kind of childish behavior is this?" she couldn't help but comment, her gaze sweeping over the figure in the room who had finally climbed down from the windowsill and was now burying her face in the coat that Frieren had just taken off and was draped over the back of the chair, continuing to sob. "Anyway, what should we do?"

Frieren smiled.

"It's very simple."

As she spoke, she walked toward the man whose face was buried in her coat and whose shoulders were still trembling. She reached out and gently placed her hand on his dark, somewhat disheveled hair, and ruffled it.

"Alright, alright," her voice was softer than usual, "Frieren is back, she's here."

The sobbing, muffled by the coat, paused for a moment.

Then, Lowell rushed over again, hugging Frieren tightly and burying her face in her shoulder. This time, her crying was much softer, turning into intermittent sobs, but her arms were still very tight.

Frieren let him hold her, while she continued to gently pat his back and stroke his hair with her other hand.

"That's it," she said to Fern, her tone still flat, "It should be done in about five minutes."

Fern watched this scene and fell silent once again.

After a while, Lowell's sobs gradually subsided, though he would occasionally let out a small hiccup. He was still holding Frieren, but his grip loosened, his head resting on her shoulder, his eyes half-closed, his long eyelashes still damp.

"It looks terrifying, but it's actually quite easy to solve," Fern finally commented. "So, is it some kind of magic? Or a curse?"

Frieren shook her head.

"What did he say..." she thought for a moment, then repeated, "'Frieren is severely dependent'."

Fern: "..."