By the River

Leisurely background music played as the carriage moved slowly along the dirt road heading north, flanked by lush forests, with the dark blue outlines of rolling mountains visible in the distance. The air was noticeably cooler.

It's been three days since I left the academy.

That evening, they stopped by a clear stream to prepare for camping.

The river was not wide, and the current was gentle, making a soft gurgling sound. The afterglow of the setting sun gilded the water's surface with a layer of scattered gold.

Frieren and Fern were in a shallow bay by the river. Dressed simply, they had taken off their shoes and socks and were walking barefoot on the cool pebbles, letting the flowing river water wash over their ankles.

They were also cleaning some of their personal belongings.

Fern held a delicate, small crystal butterfly ornament in her hand, carefully rinsing it in the clear river water. The water flowed over the crystal's wings, refracting tiny sparkles of light.

She wiped the water droplets with a clean, soft cloth, then held it up and looked at the setting sun.

"It's all clean now, Lady Frieren."

She turned her head slightly and gave Frieren a faint smile.

Frieren was fiddling with a silver ring she had just pulled from the water when she heard this. She looked up, her emerald green eyes reflecting the water.

"It's a gift from Lowell." She smiled.

Fern nodded and carefully placed the crystal butterfly into a small box lined with velvet. Then, she raised her hand and gently touched a silver butterfly hair ornament tucked in her hair.

"Lady Frieren's has also been cleaned up."

"And the staff that Lord Heiter gave me, I've been taking good care of it."

"I see." Frieren responded, putting the dried ring back on her hand, examining it against the light, and seemed fairly satisfied.

Fern carefully put the small box away, then turned to Frieren, looking at her with her pale purple eyes, her tone steady but with a familiar, controlling quality.

"What do you mean? Lady Frieren should also take out her own things and clean them. Those treasures and ornaments will just collect dust if they're not cleaned."

Frieren stopped swinging her little feet.

She blinked, her face showing a mixture of embarrassment and the pressure of "this project is too big."

"Well..."

She dragged out the syllable.

"But what if I washed all the birthday gifts Lowell has given me over the past thousand years..."

Fern thought for a moment.

"All right."

She also felt that this was unrealistic.

"However, now that we are all First-Class Mages, when we make corresponding contributions, we can ask Serie for a 'quickly cleansing ornaments' spell when she 'transfers' magic to us."

Frieren tilted her head and began to seriously consider the suggestion.

Then, the corners of her mouth slowly curved upwards, and a rare, mischievous glint flashed in her emerald eyes.

"That's a great suggestion, Fern."

There was a hint of expectation in her voice.

"I really want to see Serie's expression when she hears this request."

Fern asked, puzzled, "What's wrong?"

"Hehe..." Frieren's smile deepened, a hint of mischief in it. "It's going to be amazing."

She looked at Fern.

"So, if I want this magic, what does Fern intend to ask Serie for?"

Fern thought about it seriously. Her pale purple eyes gazed at the flowing river, and after a moment, she gave her answer.

"Hmm... a magic trick for quickly washing clothes? Or, a magic trick for quickly cooking?"

Frieren nodded in agreement.

"Great idea, Fern."

"Hmph~"

Fern instinctively straightened his chest, a small look of satisfaction on his face, though he still tried to maintain a calm expression.

Frieren's gaze lingered on her chest for a moment, then she quickly glanced down at her own. She pursed her lips, her tone suddenly becoming somewhat subtle.

"Be proud if you want, but don't puff out your chest."

"... What are you saying?"

Just then--

"Dinner's ready!"

Lowell's voice came from above the riverbank, dozens of meters away from the campsite where they were bathing, and it was full of energy.

"Try my cooking tonight!"

Frieren glanced in the direction the sound came from, her emerald eyes blinking.

Why shout from so far away?

Fern had quickly dried her feet and started putting on socks and boots.

"We were supposed to take a shower here."

"What does it matter?" Frieren said dismissively, and slowly began to put on her shoes as well.

Fern stood up and straightened her skirt.

"Fortunately, Lord Lowell is not like you; he is a person of discretion."

Frieren pouted. "What... I'm clearly a mature older sister too."

The two got dressed and returned to the camp.

A campfire had been lit, with a small pot burning on it. Lowell was stirring the pot intently with a spoon.

The pot was filled with a bright red, oily broth, bubbling and revealing thinly sliced fish and various other ingredients. A rich aroma, a blend of spices and chili, filled the air.

Frieren and Fern sat down on the mats that had been laid out.

"Golden Labyrinth Boiled Fish," Lowell said, scooping up a spoonful of broth and examining its color with obvious smugness. "I even had special training with Xiangling! Although I don't have Linié's Mimicry Magic, don't underestimate the Demons' innate Imitation skills!"

He put down the spoon and placed his hands on his hips.

"Hehehe... Tonight I'll show you what a genius chef's first experience is like!"

Frieren stared at the bright red broth in the pot, her emerald green eyes widening slightly.

"It looks pretty good."

Fern nodded, a hint of surprise flashing in his pale purple eyes.

"Hmm. I didn't expect Lord Lowell to have such culinary skills."

Lowell was even more pleased with himself and served each of them a full bowl. The snow-white fish meat was soaked in red oil, topped with bright green scallions and fried dried chilies, making it visually very tempting.

"Try it!" he urged, his eyes filled with anticipation.

Frieren and Fern exchanged a glance and picked up their respective spoons.

Frieren scooped up a piece of fish, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.

Fern was more cautious, taking only a small amount of the side dishes with some broth.

Then--

Both of them froze simultaneously.

Frieren's eyes widened slightly, her chewing stopped, and her cheeks puffed up at an astonishing speed. Her emerald eyes were filled with disbelief, shock, and intense confusion.

The next second.

"Pah! Pah! Pah!"

She suddenly turned her head, spitting everything in her mouth onto the ground. Her little face scrunched up, and she raised her hand to fan herself vigorously, as if her mouth were on fire.

"The water... it's so spicy! No, it's so bitter! And it has a weird taste!"

Fern reacted a little slower, but not much better. Her pale purple eyes narrowed abruptly, and an unnatural blush rose on her fair cheeks. She covered her mouth tightly, her slender shoulders trembling slightly, as if fighting against some strange storm that swept over her sense of taste.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, her long eyelashes trembling rapidly. After several seconds, she swallowed the little bit of food in her mouth with great difficulty, bit by bit.

Then, she immediately grabbed the water pouch next to her, unscrewed it, and gulped down several mouthfuls of water, which calmed her breathing slightly. But the expression on her face, a mixture of pain, shock, and extreme confusion, lingered for a long time.

Lowell's smug smile froze.

"... What do you mean?"

He glanced at Frieren, then at Fern, and frowned.

Fern took another big gulp of water before lifting her face. Her pale purple eyes looked at him, still glistening with a few tears. She tried to keep her voice steady, but the last syllable trembled slightly.

"... Try it yourself."

Lowell looked incredulous. "What? It's so beautiful, I wouldn't..."

He picked up a clean spoon, scooped up a large spoonful, and without even blowing on it, put it directly into his mouth.

His expression underwent a dramatic transformation in a fraction of a second, from confident to frozen, and then to distorted.

"Ugh--!"

He abruptly covered his mouth, his eyes widened, and his neck tensed instantly. He spun around halfway, seemingly wanting to vomit but feeling ashamed, and finally, with his neck stiff and the mindset that "it won't kill me anyway," he forced it down.

"Cough! Cough cough cough...!"

He coughed violently, his face turning bright red, and he bent over, almost coughing up his lungs.

After finally catching his breath, he straightened up and looked at the pot of "Golden Maze Boiled Fish," which was still steaming and looked absolutely perfect. His dark eyes were filled with deep self-doubt and confusion.

"... It looks pretty convincing..."

He muttered to himself, his tone full of frustration.

Then, as if making a firm decision, he took the pot off the fire.

I'm going to catch more fish.

He turned and walked quickly toward the river, his back conveying a stubborn determination to "fight this failed attempt."

"Catch the bigger one!"

After taking a few steps, he turned back and called out to Fern, who was still standing there with a complicated expression.

"Ahem, Fern, you should cook dinner tonight..."

Fern watched his hurried departure, remained silent for two seconds, then sighed softly, stood up, and began to clean up the pot of brightly colored but strangely smelling "masterpiece."

Her voice was steady, as always.

"That's how it should be."