The Second Exam Ends

The battle is over.

The group stood in the last room.

The space behind the stone gate was spacious, filled with countless coins, gems, magic crystals, strangely shaped magical tools, and unidentified swords of unknown origin. They were piled up haphazardly, forming small mountains that radiated golden light.

After a long period of time, the end of the maze was finally reached.

Sense stood at the entrance of the room, her long, light brown hair appearing exceptionally smooth in the faint light emanating from the treasure. She looked at the examinees in the room, some standing and some sitting, all bearing more or less the marks of battle, and her deep blue eyes curved slightly beneath her drooping eyelids.

A genuine smile appeared on her otherwise expressionless face.

Congratulations everyone.

Her voice was steady and clear, reaching everyone's ears.

"Successfully conquered this 'Ruined King's Tomb'."

Her gaze slowly swept over Duncan, Lichta, Laufen, Wirbel, Kanne, Rabiñe, Methode, Länge, Edel, Dunster, Lanto Ubel, Ehre, Scharf... Finally, it swept over Lowell and Frieren, who were standing a little further away, as well as Elder, who had just come out of the deepest room, and Adonis had just walked in.

"This is a feat comparable to that of First-Class Mage, a feat worthy of being recorded in history."

"Although there were some unexpected twists and turns along the way."

Her gaze seemed to linger on Lowell for half a second, almost imperceptibly.

"But I have seen everyone's efforts, cooperation, and the wisdom and courage they have shown in this desperate situation."

"As agreed, everyone who has successfully reached the deepest point—"

"You passed the second exam."

The room fell silent for a moment.

Duncan's face remained expressionless, but he also breathed a sigh of relief. Lichta crossed her arms, glanced at the surrounding treasures, and pursed her lips. Laufen smiled and stretched his shoulders. Kanne and Rabiñe exchanged a glance, both seeing a sense of relief in each other's eyes.

Methode elegantly straightened her robes. Ubel still wore that faint smile, as if the outcome was a matter of course. Lanto pushed up his glasses, his gaze behind the lenses calm. Elder yawned widely, seemingly more interested in finding a place to sleep than passing the test.

"Huh..." Duncan stroked his beard and looked around, with emotion in his cloudy eyes, "It's finally over."

He seemed to remember something, his gaze searching through the crowd.

"Speaking of which, who were the biggest contributors to conquering this maze?"

He looked into the room and saw Elder leaning against the door, his head nodding, about to fall asleep again.

"Hmm... and another one." Duncan continued searching, "From the front..." His words trailed off.

My gaze settled on a corner of the room, next to a small mountain of glittering gold ornaments and coins.

There, Frieren's upper body was being swallowed whole by a magnificent, gilded treasure chest.

Only her lower body was exposed.

The treasure chest lid was still swaying slightly.

Immediately afterwards, a muffled, clearly panicked voice came from inside the Frieren chest, its sound distorted by the chest walls:

"Ugh... It's so dark! It's so scary! Lowell! Fern! Help me! I can't open this!"

Everyone: "..."

Duncan's smile froze, then transformed into a complex expression that mixed absurdity, understanding, and helplessness. He raised his hand to his forehead.

"Oh, this..."

Laufen stood beside him, patted his shoulder as if he understood, and spoke in a heavy tone.

"I understand how you feel, sir."

Lowell sighed, looking like he was saying, "Here we go again." He walked over to the golden chest, extended his index finger, and gently tapped the lid.

The moment the fingertip touched it, the magnificent golden treasure chest burst like a bubble, making a soft "pop" sound, then quickly faded and became transparent, eventually turning into countless tiny specks of light that dissipated into the air.

Frieren regained her freedom, her silver-white twin ponytails slightly disheveled, and a trace of lingering panic remained in her emerald eyes. She patted her chest, exhaled, and her expression quickly returned to its usual calm, though the tips of her ears seemed a little red.

"Honestly," Lowell tapped her forehead, "You still get fooled by this stuff."

"This golden one," Frieren pointed to the spot where the treasure chest had disappeared, defending herself earnestly, "I've never seen anything like it before. I thought there would be something different, something better..."

She paused, then lowered her voice.

"It turned out to be just Mimic of a different color."

Kanne quickly jogged over, conjuring a ball of clear water in his hand. He carefully controlled the flow of water to wash away the transparent slime that was unique to Mimics from Frieren's face and hair.

Frieren stood obediently, letting her wash her.

As Sense watched this scene, the smile on her face seemed to deepen slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. She clapped her hands lightly, drawing everyone's attention.

"Then," she announced clearly, "The second round of the First-Class Mage Selection Examination, 'The Conquest of the Ruined King's Tomb,' is now concluded."

Please return the way you came and gather at the maze entrance.

The entrance to the maze.

Lichta leaned against a relatively clean stone wall, rolled up his sleeve, revealing a shallow scratch on his forearm. The Golem in the glass bottle at his waist had returned to its normal size, emitting a soft white light that enveloped the wound. A tingling, slightly itchy sensation spread through him, and his skin was healing slowly at a visible pace.

"This thing," Lichta raised an eyebrow, looking at the Golem undergoing healing, "Can even heal. That's impressive."

He stretched his arms.

"I did get a minor injury, nothing serious, but it's a hassle to treat myself. I thought I'd have to go to those guys at the church again and listen to them ramble on about the Goddess's blessings for ages."

His gaze drifted to a spot not far away.

Ton was sitting on a rock, his face pale, also receiving treatment from the Golem. He had obviously been defeated by the clone and used the bottle to escape.

Lichta's expression remained unchanged, but she raised her voice, her tone carrying its usual sarcasm.

"Oh dear—isn't this that boastful warrior who claimed he could conquer the maze alone? What's wrong? He's back so soon, tail between his legs? Was he injured? Was the scenery in the maze beautiful?"

Ton turned and glared at Lichta.

"You...!"

"Alright, Lichta."

Duncan's voice came through.

He glanced at Lichta, then at Ton, and shook his head slightly.

The exam is over. Let's keep quiet.

Lichta snorted, turned her head away, and stopped provoking her, but the mocking smile on her lips hadn't completely disappeared.

Ton took a few heavy breaths, but ultimately said nothing more and simply accepted the treatment silently.

Other candidates also emerged one after another, some receiving treatment, some talking quietly, and some resting alone. The air was filled with the relaxation that comes after the exam, as well as a faint sense of fatigue.

Duncan and Methode stood together, whispering to each other. Rabiñe was tidying Kanne's slightly disheveled hair. Ubel and Lanto stood a little further away; Ubel seemed to be talking to Lanto occasionally adjusted his glasses. Wirbel checked his equipment. Elder had found a corner, hugged his knees, and was nodding off, almost asleep again.

Sense stood quietly in the shadows of the entrance, watching everything unfold like a silent witness.

Soon, the students who had finished their treatment began to disperse in twos and threes. Some left immediately, while others seemed to plan to rest for the night in a nearby town.

Lowell, Frieren, and Fern walked back to the hotel.

The setting sun bathed the streets of Oysast in a warm orange-red hue, while the lake breeze carried a moist atmosphere and a faint floral fragrance.

Fern walked beside Frieren, her steps steady. She turned her head to look at Frieren's calm profile and spoke softly:

"Lady Frieren, the exam seems to have gone very well."

Frieren blinked, looking at the long shadows cast by the setting sun in the distance.

"Um."

She responded with a sound of agreement, then added in her usual calm and direct tone.

"I told you, even without me, Fern, you could definitely manage."

Fern paused slightly, a glint of light flashing in her pale purple eyes. She lowered her head, looking at the stone path beneath her feet.

"... Yeah."

"Of course." Lowell walked to Frieren's other side, hands behind her head, her tone relaxed. "You're Frieren's apprentice, you need to have confidence. You're very strong now. You did very well in this exam too."

Fern raised her head, looked at Lowell, then at Frieren, her little hand unconsciously touching her chin, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"But I always feel that I'm still far behind you two."

Her voice was soft, but earnest.

Upon hearing this, Lowell paused for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head, looking at Frieren beside him.

Frieren was also looking at Fern, her emerald eyes showing no particular emotion as she quietly observed.

"... This child truly has lofty ambitions."

Frieren nodded slightly.

"Um."

The three returned to the hotel where they were temporarily staying.

The room wasn't large, but it was clean and tidy. The window was open, and a cool evening breeze blew in, carrying the lingering sounds of the gradually quieting market.

As soon as she entered, Frieren pushed Fern into the bathroom.

"Lady Frieren, please wash up first. You're covered in dust, and..." Fern paused, omitting the words "Mimic slime," but the meaning was clear, "Your hair also needs combing."

"Oh."

Frieren had no objections and obediently went inside.

She didn't come out until quite a while later.

Her long, silvery-white hair, still damp, cascaded over her shoulders, exuding a refreshing scent of soap, as she casually dried it with a towel. She had changed into a clean white bathrobe, and her cheeks were flushed a faint pink from the steam. She looked soft, clean, and carried the warm scent of a post-bath bath.

She walked to the chair by the window and sat down, continuing to slowly dry her hair.

Lowell leaned back in another chair, a crystal-clear, light blue popsicle now in his hand, emitting wisps of cool air. He shook the popsicle.

"Here."

Frieren's ears twitched, and she stopped drying her hair. Her emerald eyes turned to the popsicle in Lowell's hand, and she blinked.

She put down the towel and reached out to take it.

The popsicle was icy cold to the touch. She leaned closer, sniffed it, and noticed a faint, sweet fruity scent.

Then, she lowered her head, stuck out the tip of her pink tongue, and carefully licked it.

The cool, sweet flavor melts on the tip of the tongue.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, like a satisfied cat. She licked it again, this time with a bigger motion, her tongue scooping up a small piece of Melt ice crystal.

She licked it with great concentration and care, as if handling some precious treasure. Her tongue deftly circled the popsicle, avoiding the Melt and dripping parts. Occasionally, she would hiss softly from the cold and slightly shrink her neck, but she would quickly return to the surface.

"That's really good."

Her wet, silver hair clung to her neck, still dripping tiny water droplets. Her loose robe had the neckline slightly open, revealing her delicate collarbone. She sat cross-legged on a chair, her body swaying slightly as she licked an ice pop, the hem of her white robe trailing behind her.

Quiet, focused, with a defenseless, childlike satisfaction.

Lowell leaned back in his chair, watching her, a smile unconsciously curving his lips upward. The noise outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft, contented sounds of her licking and the gentle rustling of the curtains in the breeze.

When Fern came out of the bathroom after tidying up, she saw this scene and slowed her pace. She walked to the window and closed it slightly to block the cool evening breeze.

Then, she picked up the towel that Frieren had tossed aside, walked behind her, and began to gently dry her still-dripping hair.

The movements were skillful yet gentle.

Frieren enjoyed the coolness of the popsicle and Fern's service, continuing to lick the popsicle without stopping, only making a muffled nasal sound to indicate her comfort.

Lowell looked at them, his smile deepening.

The last rays of the setting sun gently enveloped the small hotel room.

And so, the second round of the First-Class Mage selection exam slowly came to a close amidst the fright of the golden Mimic, the white light of the healing Golem, the casual conversation on the way home, the sweetness of popsicles, and the tranquil twilight.