The Dinner

The carriage entered the castle courtyard, its wheels rolling over the smooth stone pavement with a dull, rhythmic sound. Night had fallen completely, and the lamps on the stone pillars lining the courtyard cast steady halos of light.

The butler opened the car door and bowed, gesturing for the driver to enter.

The three got off the bus.

The heavy doors to the castle's main hall were silently pushed open by two servants. Warm light, the aroma of food, and a unique scent of aged wood and incense—a scent characteristic of noble residences—wafted in.

The long table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth, and candles Burning quietly on silver candlesticks. The tableware gleamed warmly in the candlelight.

Earl Tahe stood beside the head of the table. He looked to be about thirty-four or thirty-five years old, with neatly combed brown hair and a meticulously trimmed mustache. His face bore a five or six-point resemblance to the Old Tahe in Lowell's memory, but his eyes were less tyrannical and more composed and discerning. He wore a well-tailored dark suit, and when the group entered, he gave them a perfectly measured smile, neither overly enthusiastic nor impolite.

"Frieren, Lady Lowell, and this young lady, welcome." His voice was not loud, carrying the refined gentleness typical of nobles. "You must be tired from your journey; please don't find the food too simple. My grandfather was greatly cared for by you two in the past, and he has always been grateful."

His gaze lingered on Frieren and Lowell's faces for a moment, especially on Frieren's clearly uninterested expression, before naturally shifting away and gesturing for them to sit down.

Dinner begins.

One dish after another was served by silent, well-trained servants. Perfectly roasted ibex ribs, drizzled with thick gravy; a rich broth made with local tubers and mushrooms, its aroma irresistible; and a soft, baked cake drizzled with honey and nut crumbs.

Fern savored each bite, her pale purple eyes gleaming slightly. Her movements remained refined, yet her pace was quick, revealing a subtle satisfaction with each dish. Clearly, the chef under Earl Tahe far surpassed the provisions of their journey and Lowell's "creative cuisine."

Frieren, on the other hand, was quite different.

Her pointed ears drooped as she slowly poked at the food on her plate with her fork, her movements almost ritualistic in their slowness. Her emerald eyes were listless, fixed on the plate or occasionally drifting towards the heavy night outside the window. To the Earl's occasional polite remarks about his travels or the sights of the North, she would only give a vague "hmm" or two, or simply pretend not to hear.

The atmosphere was slightly tense.

Earl Tahe's smile remained unchanged. He put down his wine glass and wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"Frieren seems rather unenthusiastic?" he asked tentatively, turning his gaze to Lowell. "Is the food not to your liking, or...?"

"Haha," Lowell chuckled dryly, took a sip from his glass, and naturally continued the conversation, "It's nothing, nothing, Earl, don't worry about it. She's just a little... well, she's not used to the environment, and her old habit of avoiding trouble has flared up again."

His tone was sincere, and his expression was natural.

Frieren's ears twitched slightly, but she still didn't look up; however, she seemed to poke the food with a little too much force.

Earl Tahe nodded thoughtfully, seemingly accepting the explanation.

"I see." He paused, leaned forward slightly, and placed his hands clasped on the table, adopting a more formal posture. "Then, I won't beat around the bush any longer."

"First of all, please allow me, on behalf of the family, to thank you both for your help to my grandfather back then, in recovering the family heirloom sword."

His tone was calm, revealing no particular emotion.

"Although... on the very night the sword was recovered, it disappeared again."

There was a moment of silence at the dining table.

The only sound was the crackling of Burning firewood in the fireplace.

Frieren stopped poking at the cake with her fork. Her emerald eyes narrowed slightly as she slowly lifted her gaze from the plate, giving Lowell a quick glance before lowering it again, her long eyelashes concealing the fleeting guilt in her eyes. She kept her head down, but her shoulders seemed a little tense.

Under the table, Fern's toe lightly and imperceptibly touched Frieren's calf.

Frieren stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and continued to slowly poke at the poor piece of cake, only the tips of her ears seemed to be a little redder.

Earl Tahe seemed oblivious to the subtle interaction; he sighed, a sigh tinged with just the right amount of regret.

"Of course, that happened decades ago. To ask them to find it again now would be asking too much and unrealistic."

He then changed the subject.

"However, a thorny problem has recently arisen within our territory. A Demons calling themselves the 'Sword Demons' has been active near several villages in the north, and has already carried out several attacks."

His expression turned serious.

"Of course we sent out knights to wipe them out. But... some squads have already met their demise. And those elite teams led by skilled warriors always come up empty-handed, unable to even catch a glimpse of the enemy."

He looked at Lowell and Frieren, a hint of pleading in his eyes.

"Therefore, I believe this Demons is extremely adept at Concealment their presence, appearing and disappearing unpredictably. Ordinary search methods are ineffective against them. I think perhaps we need more... specialized personnel to handle this."

"Therefore, I have taken the liberty of inviting you two here, hoping to leverage your experience and strength to eliminate this scourge."

He paused, then added, his tone becoming even more sincere.

"Of course, I won't let you two work for nothing. As compensation..."

He clapped his hands.

A servant stepped forward silently and gently placed a box wrapped in dark velvet on the table in front of Frieren.

Earl Tahe himself reached out and opened the box.

Inside lay a book with a leather cover. The cover was dark red, decorated with some simple magical patterns, and it was in remarkably good condition.

"This magic book contains the spell to Magic That Turns Red Apples into Green Apples..."

Earl Tahe's voice carried a hint of uncertainty, even as he himself found the reward somewhat peculiar, but he maintained his composure.

Almost the instant his words fell—

Just moments ago, Frieren had been drooping her ears and looking utterly bored, but suddenly she raised her head.

Her emerald eyes lit up instantly, like two gems suddenly polished, fixing their gaze firmly on the dark red book. All her previous laziness and "acclimatization issues" vanished in an instant, replaced by an almost tangible, burning curiosity.

She even leaned forward slightly, her gaze seemingly trying to pierce through the leather cover and see directly into the contents.

"We accept!"

Her voice was clear, decisive, and without the slightest hesitation.

Lowell was about to take a sip when he heard this and almost choked. He put down his glass, coughed twice, glanced at Frieren with a hint of helplessness, then turned to Earl Tahe, his amiable smile returning to his face.

"Ahem... Earl, you really know how to please people, you have a good eye for them."

"Alright. We'll take this job."

Fern quietly swallowed the last bite of cake, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped her mouth. Her gaze swept over her master, who had instantly perked up; Lowell, who had a "I knew it" look on his face; and Earl Tahe expression was slightly surprised but quickly returned to normal.

Then, she said nothing, only lowered her eyes slightly and continued to eat her half-finished milk pudding in small bites. It was as if the "final" transaction in front of her was as ordinary as the evening breeze blowing outside the window.