The Giant Pudding

Fern pushed open the door to the guest room.

The curtains weren't fully drawn, and a few rays of morning sunlight squeezed in through the gaps, cutting diagonally onto the floor.

Frieren lay face down on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, her silver hair disheveled and spread across the pillow. Her face was buried in the pillow, with only half of her profile and one closed eye showing.

"Lady Frieren, it's time to get up."

Fern walked to the bedside, his voice steady.

It's almost noon.

A muffled, drawn-out nasal sound came from under the covers.

"Don't want..."

Frieren buried her face deeper into the pillow, stretched her arm out from under the covers, groped for the edge of the blanket, and pulled it up to cover her entire head. The ends of her silvery-white hair peeked out from under the blanket, trembling gently with her soft breathing.

"Just ten more minutes of sleep..."

Fern stood by the bed and waited quietly for a few seconds.

"You said that ten minutes ago."

There was no movement from under the covers.

After a while, a muffled sound, heavy with sleepiness, finally came through.

"It's been so long since I've slept in such a comfortable bed..."

Fern paused for a moment.

She stared at the motionless, bulging human-shaped pile of blankets on the bed, her pale purple eyes blinking. Then, she bent down, leaned close to the edge of the blankets, and her lips almost touched the few strands of silvery-white hair that were sticking out.

Her voice was extremely low, her breath brushing against her hair, carrying a deliberately crafted, calm sense of urgency.

"Miss Methode- Date has arrived."

"!"

The blanket was suddenly thrown back.

Frieren sat bolt upright in bed, her silver hair sticking up in disarray. Her emerald eyes snapped open instantly, scanning the doorway and every corner of the room warily. She was still wearing her nightgown, her shoulders exposed, gleaming in the morning light.

The entrance was empty.

There was no one by the window.

Apart from her and Fern, there was no one else in the entire room.

Frieren remained seated, blinked, then blinked again. Then, she slowly turned her head to look at Fern was still bent over and standing by the bed.

"... Fern has learned to lie too."

There was no blame in her voice; instead, it carried a soft, nasal tone, as if she had just woken up, and a hint of helplessness at being caught red-handed.

Fern straightened up, his expression unchanged, and simply reached out to straighten his clothes.

"Snort."

She gave a soft hum, her voice flat.

"Adults are always dirty. I'm the older sister, so naturally I'm an adult too."

She picked up her coat from the back of the chair and unfolded it.

"Get up! Lord Lowell said there's a super-sized Mercury Pudding for lunch today, you can eat it while you sleep on it."

Frieren was still sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, her chin resting on them, her eyes half-closed, clearly not fully awake. She tilted her head, her silver hair slipping to one side.

"Kindness?"

It seemed to take her a few seconds to process the information in that sentence.

"... good."

She loosened her knees, reached out to Fern, and raised her arm high, the sleeve of her nightgown slipping down to her elbows, revealing her slender, fair forearms.

"Get me dressed..."

"Good."

Fern walked over, draped the coat over her shoulders, and then picked up the prepared robes from the side, helping her put them on one by one. Her movements were practiced, her fingers deftly buttoning the robes.

Frieren obediently raised her hand, turned her body, and her head bobbed up and down as her eyes closed again.

"Lady Frieren, please stand up straight."

"Um..."

After getting dressed and washing up, the two left the guest room.

The corridor was long, covered with thick carpets, and the walls were adorned with softly colored landscape paintings.

The sound of footsteps was absorbed by the carpet, so quiet that you could hear your own breathing.

Where is the pudding?

Frieren asked, her voice more clear than before.

"In the castle hall."

"Hall?"

"Yes, that's what Lord Lowell said."

Frieren blinked and didn't ask any more questions.

Push open the heavy, double-leaf carved wooden door.

The hall was exceptionally spacious, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the high dome. Sunlight poured in from the tall, arched windows on both sides, illuminating the entire space brightly, and dust particles swirled quietly like gold dust in the beams of light.

In the center of the hall, there was something.

A huge, dome-shaped, crystal-clear, light blue object.

It was almost three meters tall and about the same diameter, standing steadily on an equally enormous silver tray. Its surface was smooth and had a moist sheen, with nebulous, swirling matter inside that seemed to flow and rotate slowly. Near the bottom, it was decorated with some chopped, brightly colored pieces of fruit.

It's an extra-large Mercury Pudding.

Frieren stood in the doorway, her emerald eyes widening slightly as she gazed at the enormous creature.

Oh~!

She uttered a short syllable.

Lowell emerged from the other side of Pudding, a smug smile on his face, hands on his hips.

"How about that? This is super expensive!"

He walked over to Frieren and pointed at Pudding.

"We sold some of the Anti-Magic Ore, so we're finally not short of money anymore! You promised."

Frieren walked towards Pudding with an expectant look on her face, her steps lighter than usual.

Lowell followed beside her, continuing to talk, his tone full of boastfulness.

"And this isn't your ordinary pudding. I used a lot of magic and spent the entire morning meticulously crafting it, referring to page 372 of the 'Complete Royal Capital Dessert Encyclopedia'..."

Frieren stopped in her tracks.

She turned around and looked at Lowell.

"... You did this?"

Lowell straightened his back.

I did it!

Frieren blinked, then turned around decisively again, this time towards the hall entrance.

"Let's go eat normal food."

"Hey! Wait! Wait!"

Lowell quickly caught up with her, blocking her way with his arms outstretched.

"Ahem... well, although I did it, but!"

He emphasized his words.

"The pastry chef was there the whole time! From ingredient selection to the steps, providing guidance throughout! I swear, there won't be any problems!"

Frieren looked up at him, her face full of suspicion.

"Real?"

"More real than pearls!"

Lowell spoke with such conviction that he was practically ready to swear an oath.

Frieren glanced at him, then back at the enormous, tempting pale blue pudding. After a few seconds of hesitation, she slowly walked back and picked up a long-handled silver spoon from the side.

With the tip of a spoon, she very carefully scooped out a tiny piece from the very edge of the pudding and put it in her mouth.

Press your tongue together.

She blinked.

She blinked again.

"... kindness."

She nodded, her voice clear and crisp.

"It's really delicious!"

She turned to Fern, her lips curving into a smile again.

"Fern, come and eat too!"

"Good."

Fern also picked up a spoon and, imitating Frieren, scooped out a small piece, put it in his mouth, and savored it.

A few seconds later, she put down her spoon, looked at Lowell with her pale purple eyes, and spoke in a calm tone, neither praising nor criticizing.

"Yes, it's really delicious. It doesn't taste like what Lord Lowell made at all."

Lowell: "..."

Frieren ignored him, picked up a plate, and began carefully cutting the pudding into appropriately sized pieces. Her movements were meticulous, as if she were handling a precious magical artifact.

Fern also picked up a plate and quietly began to use it.

Lowell watched them, his shoulders slumped, he scratched his head, and finally gave up arguing. He grabbed a plate and joined the ranks of those "dividing" the giant pudding.

In the afternoon, the wind carried the scent of sunshine and vegetation.

The group walked along the streets of Weise.

The stone-paved road was swept clean, and potted plants with unidentified wildflowers bloomed on the windowsills of the houses on both sides. Shop signs swayed gently in the breeze, the aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the bakery, and the rhythmic hammering of metal came from the blacksmith's shop.

Everything remains exactly as it was fifty years ago. Fresh, vibrant, and full of everyday sounds and smells.

There weren't many pedestrians on the road, and occasionally a horse-drawn carriage would pass by, its wheels making a rhythmic rumbling sound as they rolled over the stone slabs. When they saw them, the passersby would nod in greeting, their gazes lingering for a moment on Frieren's silver hair and Lowell, but quickly looking away as they continued with their own business.

Walked past a street corner.

A short distance ahead, two people were walking side by side.

It's Duncan and Lektüre.

Duncan changed out of his formal coat and into a simple dark gray casual suit, his back still straight. Lektüre walked beside him, wearing a light-colored dress, her long golden curls shimmering in the sunlight. She tilted her head slightly, talking to Duncan, a smile on her profile.

Duncan tilted his head slightly to listen, his face expressionless, but he slowed his pace to match hers.

There was a small distance between them, neither too far nor too close.

A breeze blew by, lifting a corner of Lektüre's skirt and ruffling a few graying strands of hair on Duncan's forehead. They didn't hold hands, just walked side by side. Occasionally, Lektüre would point to a shop on the side of the road and say something, Duncan would look in the direction she pointed and nod slightly.

A few steps behind them, a little further away, were two more people walking.

It was Gluck, and Macht, who was supporting him and walking beside him.

Gluck leaned on a cane, his steps somewhat slow. He was still wearing that dark coat, his goatee neatly trimmed. Macht walked on his outside, one hand lightly supporting Gluck's elbow, the other hanging naturally at his side.

The two walked slowly, barely exchanging a word. Gluck would occasionally stop, tap the ground with his cane, and look at a building or a tree by the roadside. Macht would stop as well, standing quietly to the side, his gaze calmly following Gluck's line of sight, his face expressionless, simply waiting patiently.

Once, Gluck stopped in front of a bookstore window. The window displayed some old books, their covers faded. He looked at them for a long time, then turned his head and whispered something to Macht.

After listening, Macht looked at the books with his purplish-red eyes, then shook his head and replied. Gluck smiled briefly, a smile that was hard to define as either a sigh or something else, and then continued walking forward, leaning on his cane.

The streets were quiet.

A flower girl sat by the roadside, her basket filled with wildflowers glistening with dew. A yellow and white cat leaped down from the wall, landed gracefully in the middle of the road, glanced at them, and then slowly walked away, swishing its tail.

The hammering in the blacksmith's shop stopped for a moment, followed by the whooshing sound of quenching and the hissing of rising steam.

Everything was peaceful.

It was as if nothing had happened.

It's as if everything has quietly changed.