A Visit

There was a moment of silence in the cabin.

The embers in the fireplace crackled softly and occasionally.

Lowell stood up from his chair and stretched his shoulders.

"Anyway," he began, his voice regaining its usual casualness, "Let's go see him too."

Frieren nodded, her silver hair swaying slightly with the movement.

"That's right. Going to see him will give me a much better chance of breaking the spell."

Fern put down the cup he had been holding, stood up, and straightened the hem of his robe.

"Okay, I'll go too."

Methode crossed her arms in front of her, a gentle smile on her face.

"Okay. Let's go take a look."

Lowell scratched his head, looked at the group of girls, and his expression became more serious.

"Tsk, let's make this clear first. Although I can beat him, I'm not confident I can protect you if he suddenly attacks. The 'Diagoldze' spell is almost unavoidable for you. In that regard, you can only rely on Macht's 'Obedience' from the stone ring."

He thought for a moment and added.

"Although he didn't take action in the future I 'saw,' it's not a future that will definitely come true."

Fern raised his eyes, his pale purple pupils meeting Frieren, his voice steady.

"Since Lady Frieren has already said there's a way to break the 'Diagoldze' magic, then it doesn't matter if I'm turned into gold."

Frieren turned to look at her and blinked.

"You trust me that much?"

"Of course."

Duncan walked to the door and placed his hand on the doorknob. He had his back to everyone and spoke in a calm voice.

"It should be fine. As long as you say you're my friends, Macht probably won't interfere."

As if remembering something, Frieren turned to Fern, a small, slightly mischievous smile curving her lips upwards.

"Okay, let me apologize first, Fern. Don't be angry later."

Fern tilted his head slightly.

"?"

Frieren didn't explain, she just smiled and followed Duncan.

The group stepped into the Golden Land.

Beneath my feet was a hard, golden floor, its texture no different from ordinary stone slabs, only its color and luster were identical to gold. The doors and windows of the houses on both sides of the street were tightly closed, everything was covered under that eternal, clear gold, and even the air seemed more stagnant than outside.

There was no wind, no chirping of insects. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed in the vast, deathly silence, creating a clear yet monotonous rhythm.

Fern walked slightly behind Lowell, her pale purple eyes calmly sweeping across the surroundings. The statues, pierced by golden spears and pinned in mid-air, remained frozen in their dying poses, frozen in the middle of the street. She glanced at them, then looked away, her face expressionless.

After walking for a while, a mansion came into view.

Compared to the other buildings around it, it was taller and more solemn, with the distinct air of a lord's mansion. The lines of the roof, the pillars of the porch, and even the intricate family crest on the gate were all covered with a thick layer of gold, which reflected a cold light under the sunlight filtering through the thin clouds.

Before the gates of the Golden Castle, a figure stood quietly.

He wore a dark green formal suit, classic in style, with a heavy, dark blue coat draped over his shoulders. A gold sash adorned the chest of the suit, and he wore crimson gloves. His long, crimson hair was neatly combed back, revealing a broad forehead and the pair of beautifully curved, enormous horns belonging to the Demons race on either side of it.

This is the strongest of the Seven Sages of Destruction, Macht of the Golden Land.

He stood there, upright, like a sculpture that was meant to be there. Only when Duncan approached did he raise his eyes, place his right hand on his left chest, and bow, performing a standard and impeccable salute.

"We've been waiting for you, Mr. Duncan. Please come in."

His voice was steady, without any emotional fluctuation, and his gaze swept over the people behind Duncan.

"... May I ask who these guests are... um?" His gaze lingered for a moment when he saw Lowell.

Duncan didn't stop walking; he headed straight for the door, his tone casual.

"They are all my friends. Don't neglect them."

Macht was silent for two seconds.

Then, he bowed again, this time facing the crowd. His voice remained steady, but his empty eyes lingered on Lowell for a moment longer.

"Welcome, esteemed guests. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Macht, the current magic advisor to the Gluck Family."

Frieren took half a step forward, tilted her silver-white head, looked at him with her emerald green eyes, and raised a clear, slightly smug and provocative smile on her lips.

"This isn't our first meeting. We fought each other six hundred years ago."

Macht bowed again.

"Please forgive my past rudeness," he said. Although his voice and movements were elegant and proper, his voice lacked remorse; it was merely a statement.

Frieren's smile deepened, a smile that clearly said, "Got you."

"Oh, I see..." she drawled, her tone light, "So you really don't remember me."

She slightly raised her chin.

"Would you like me to help you remember?"

The moment the words left his mouth.

The calm and submissive aura that Macht had once possessed had vanished.

He straightened up. His expression remained unchanged, but his eyes suddenly turned cold. In the depths of his empty eyes, it was as if two clusters of eerie blue flames silently ignited, his gaze fixed on Frieren's face.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Almost instinctively, Fern shifted half a step to the side, her body slightly turned towards Lowell, her fingers lightly gripping the hem of his shirt at the lower back. She held her breath, her pale purple eyes fixed on Macht, a bead of cold sweat trickling down her forehead.

Duncan stopped, turned to the side, and spoke in a calm voice with a clear tone of disapproval.

"Stop, Macht. We're not here to fight."

The coldness in Macht's eyes vanished instantly, like a candle flame extinguished by the wind.

He lowered his head again, resuming his submissive posture, as if his momentary sharpness had been merely an illusion.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Duncan."

The reception room was spacious. The original wooden furniture, soft sofas, long tables covered with embroidered tablecloths, and tall bookshelves standing against the walls had all been replaced with gold. The windows were open, offering a view of the frozen golden courtyard outside.

Macht stood beside a long table, holding a silver tea tray with a teapot and several exquisite porcelain cups on it. He placed the teacups one by one on the table in front of everyone, his movements slow and steady.

"Please have some. This is freshly brewed black tea. And," he paused slightly, his voice steady, "It was all brewed in the teaware that Mr. Gluck once loved. I deliberately preserved them in their original state."

Duncan stared at the white porcelain cup before him, which hadn't been turned into gold, and paused for a moment. The black tea inside emitted a warm, fragrant aroma.

Fern sat next to Frieren, leaning slightly forward and whispering closer to Frieren.

"Lady Frieren..." Her voice was soft, tinged with lingering fear, "What... what were you trying to do just now? It looked like you were going to fight Macht, right? Why did you have to provoke him? That... isn't good for your heart. Although I feel that even if I'm Goldification, I'll recover afterward, it's still... super scary."

Frieren picked up her cup of black tea, blew on it to cool it, and looked at Fern with clear, bright green eyes from above the rim of the cup.

"So I told you not to be angry, didn't I?" She took a small sip of tea, squinted her eyes contentedly, and then put down the cup. "I have something I want to confirm."

On the other side of the long table, Macht also picked up a cup of tea, brought it to his lips, and took an elegant sip. He put down the cup, raised his eyes, and looked at Frieren. There seemed to be a very faint inquiry in his eyes.

"What do you want to confirm?" he repeated, his tone flat. "What is it? It's very interesting. What conclusions have you... reached?"

Frieren met his gaze, her smile fading slightly as she became serious. She extended her index finger and gently tapped it in the air.

"Well. Conclusion one," she said clearly, "I really can't beat you right now."

She paused, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as if examining a complex magical artifact.

Conclusion Two...

The corners of her mouth curved upwards again, forming that small, knowing, and somewhat confident arc.

"You've noticed it yourself, haven't you?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet meeting room.

"You're not perfect right now."

Macht's fingers, which were holding the teacup, paused almost imperceptibly.

A tiny ripple spread across the surface of the black tea in the cup.

Macht's fingers, which were holding the teacup, paused slightly.

A barely perceptible ripple spread across the surface of the black tea in the cup.