[The Spacetime That Might Exist] Morning

Empire Library.

Duncan stood at the top of a long ladder, his arm reaching towards the top shelf of the bookshelf. His fingertips brushed the spines of the books, stopping at a heavy tome, which he pulled out. The book fell heavily into his hands; its cover was made of dark brown leather, and the gold lettering had faded somewhat.

The sound of heels tapping on the ground came from below the ladder. It was unhurried and rhythmic.

Duncan looked down.

Kanon was walking towards them through the aisle between the two rows of bookshelves. He was still wearing his sharp dark uniform, a peaked cap in his hand, and his long black hair tied into a neat single ponytail that hung down his back. He stopped a few steps away from the long staircase.

"Duncan," Kanon said, his voice clear in the empty library.

Duncan, holding onto the ladder, slowly descended. The wooden ladder creaked slightly. After he went down two steps, Kanon stepped forward, extending his hand to lightly support the side of the ladder. Duncan stepped onto the last step, firmly planted his foot on the ground, and patted the thin layer of dust off his hands.

"I've already received the report," Duncan said, his gaze not meeting Kanon's, but instead flipping through the table of contents of his book. "'Return to Weise and await orders.' That's far too lenient a treatment."

He closed the book and looked up at Kanon.

"My father-in-law wants a fair trial. He's really doing something unnecessary."

Kanon did not answer, nor did his expression change. He put his hat back on, the shadow of the brim falling back between his eyebrows and eyes, obscuring some of his expression.

Duncan, carrying his book, headed towards the reading area. His footsteps echoed on the smooth floor. Kanon followed half a step behind him, maintaining just the right distance.

"The procession taking my father-in-law to Weise will depart today," Duncan said as he walked. "I'll be going too. The good thing is, that way I won't have to attend any social events."

He gave a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Those events are so annoying."

Kanon hesitated for a moment. "Lord Gluck said something similar."

Duncan stopped and turned around. He looked at Kanon, his brown eyebrows slightly raised.

"So," Duncan said slowly, his fingers unconsciously tracing the leather texture of the book's spine, "What exactly are you planning?"

Kanon met his gaze, his dark eyes calm and unwavering.

"Please go ask Captain Fres directly."

"Fres has become a wild horse," Duncan shook his head, a hint of weariness in his voice. "That's why I'm asking you. Tell me everything about your mission."

"Excuse my bluntness," Kanon's voice remained calm and unwavering, "But you've overstepped your bounds a bit."

Duncan stroked his beard.

"Overstepping authority? That's an interesting answer. So, your mission involves the secrets of the Magical Special Forces, to the point that even I, the Chief Court Magic, have no right to know? Or is it...?"

Footsteps came from behind the bookshelf on the other side.

Noi emerged from around the corner, holding a folder. He saw Duncan, paused for a moment, then quickened his pace to walk to Kanon's side.

"Kanon," Noi whispered, but his voice was still clearly audible in the quiet library, "There's a report."

Kanon turned his head to the side, his gaze sweeping over Noi from under the brim of his hat.

"You are extremely rude," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "This is in front of Lord Duncan. Report back to me later."

Noi stepped forward, leaned close to Kanon's ear, and lowered his voice even further. But a few key words inevitably escaped his lips, sounding particularly jarring in the silent air:

"... We've captured... those two mages..."

Kanon's expression remained unchanged. He turned to Duncan, raised his right hand, and lightly touched the brim of his hat with his fingertips.

"I apologize, Lord Duncan, please forgive my rudeness," he said, his speech slightly faster than before, revealing the urgency of official business. "An emergency has occurred, and I must return to headquarters immediately. I wish you a safe journey, and please be sure to ensure Lord Gluck's safe passage."

After saying that, he winked at Noi. The two turned around at the same time and walked quickly toward the library exit. The sound of their military boots hitting the ground quickly faded away and disappeared behind the layers of bookshelves.

Duncan stood there, watching the direction they had left in. He tightened his grip on the book, his fingertips leaving subtle marks on the leather cover.

"... Really."

He muttered to himself and shook his head.

"Whether it's the Continental Magic Association or the people here in the Imperial Capital, they're all acting on their own, without even a word of warning, secretly causing chaos..."

He turned around and continued walking deeper into the reading area. His steps were slower than before, and seemed somewhat heavy.

"However, it makes sense. Neither side can fully trust me. After all, my position is so awkward—I am the chief Court Magic of the empire, second only to the emperor, yet I am also First-Class Mage certified by the Continental Magic Association..."

He stopped at a long table by the window and placed the book he was holding on it. Sunlight streamed through the glass, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air.

"Intended to be a bridge connecting both sides, but ended up becoming an object of suspicion for both. Ha."

He pulled out a chair and sat down. He tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"Well, I'll make some preparations beforehand. Hopefully, I can get back as soon as possible."

On the other side.

Morning light streamed through the gaps in the curtains, cutting thin, bright stripes of light across the floor with sharp edges.

Frieren stood in the center of the room, impeccably dressed. Her white mage robe clung to her body perfectly, every fold fitting flawlessly. Her long, silvery hair was styled into her signature twin ponytails, tied with neat ribbons, cascading symmetrically over her shoulders. A bright smile graced her face, and her emerald eyes sparkled, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the window.

"Fern," her voice was clear and bright, tinged with obvious delight, "Let's go buy magical tools today... oh no, I mean go on patrol!"

On the bed, Fern was still wrapped in a soft feather quilt. She opened her eyes groggily, her pale purple eyes still clouded with sleepiness, and blinked. She raised her hand, rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, and slowly sat up.

"Good morning, Frieren..."

She froze halfway through her sentence.

Her eyes slowly opened wide.

"... Eh!?"

Fern sat bolt upright, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. She stared at Frieren, who stood neatly dressed and radiant in the center of the room, her mouth slightly agape, her pale purple eyes filled with disbelief.

"Lady Frieren actually got up early!!"

Frieren puffed out her chest, put her hands on her hips, and raised her chin slightly, like a child who had done a good deed and was waiting for praise.

"Easy peasy~" she drawled, each syllable brimming with smugness.

Fern's gaze moved from her radiant face to the flawless, meticulously groomed white robe she wore, then to the neatly combed, perfectly styled twin ponytails at the back of her head. She raised her hand and covered her mouth.

"... He's even dressed!"

"Hmph~" Frieren's nasal tone was full of smugness.

"She even tied her own hair!" Fern's voice rose a little more.

Frieren shook her head smugly, her silver ponytails tracing a light arc in the air with the movement.

"Impressive, right?"

Fern lowered her hand, her expression gradually shifting from initial shock to a complex mix of deep relief, faint helplessness, and lingering disbelief. As if suddenly remembering something, her eyes brightened again, carrying a final hint of anticipation.

"Could it be that breakfast is also...?!"

Frieren's smile remained unchanged. She blinked, her emerald eyes appearing innocent and serene.

"Not yet," she said, walking naturally to the cushioned chair by the table. She sat down gracefully, placing her hands folded on her knees, then looked up at Fern and said matter-of-factly, "Feed me."

Fern: "..."

She silently got out of bed, deftly put on the black mage robe that signified First-Class Mage, and walked to the table. A simple breakfast was already laid out on the table: soft white bread, a small dish of glistening jam, and two cups of steaming black tea.

Wearing a plain white apron, Falsh was using long-handled tongs to carefully separate the perfectly fried bacon with slightly charred edges and the golden, fluffy scrambled eggs from the frying pan into two clean white porcelain plates. His movements were practiced and silent, much like a male mother.

Frieren sat happily in the chair, swinging her dangling legs. Fern picked up a piece of bread spread with jam and held it to her lips. Frieren opened her mouth, took a big bite, and her cheeks immediately puffed up. She chewed slowly and contentedly, her eyes narrowing into slits with happiness.

Fern reached behind her with her other hand, placed her fingers on her shoulder, and gently kneaded it. The movements were light and rhythmic.

Falsh gently placed two plates of food on the tablecloth in front of them, the porcelain plates making a soft "click" as they touched the wooden tabletop. Then he turned and continued preparing the next breakfast, his back to them calm and composed.

At that moment, the door to the room was pushed open from the outside.

Sense pushed the door open with her shoulder and slowly shuffled in. A frighteningly heavy magic book and a scroll of parchment map were tucked under her arm, and she rubbed her eyes sleepily with her other hand. She wore a pure white cotton nightgown, printed with a row of small bears in various shapes; the fabric was soft and the style loose. Her incredibly long, ankle-length brown hair was now disheveled, with a few unruly strands sticking up playfully, and her face was still heavy with sleepiness. Her eyes were half-closed, her steps unsteady, and she looked like a cloud that might drift back to bed at any moment.

Then, she saw the scene at the table.

Frieren sat upright in her chair, taking small bites of the bread Fern offered her, her eyes half-closed as she received a shoulder massage with obvious enjoyment. Falsh, wearing an apron, quietly busied himself by the fire. Fern, on the other hand, looked on intently, as if performing some sacred duty, fulfilling the dual tasks of "feeding" and "massaging."

Sense stopped in her tracks. She blinked, her long brown eyelashes fluttering, her expression somewhat blank, as if she hadn't fully warmed up yet. She tilted her head, her thick, cascading brown hair sliding to one side with the movement.

"... What happened?" she asked vaguely, her voice hoarse from sleep.

Fern turned his head, his expression matter-of-fact.

"Frieren got up early."

Sense blinked again. She raised her free hand and rubbed her still sleepy eyes vigorously with her fingertips.

"Huh? Um... waking up early..." Her voice was muffled, with a heavy nasal tone, her thoughts clearly still lingering on the edge of a dream. "Is waking up early something to be proud of?"

She used a strand of her long brown hair to pick up an empty white porcelain teacup from the table and steadily handed it to Falsh. Falsh naturally picked up the silver pot and filled it with steaming black tea for her.

With her left hand Sense groped for a piece of bread, while her right hand skillfully flipped through the thick magic book, her gaze barely focusing on the densely packed words. At the same time, another strand of long hair on her left side spontaneously and deftly drifted over, beginning to comb through the few particularly mischievous tufts of hair sticking up on her forehead and temples, slowly and patiently smoothing them down.

Seeing how intently she was multitasking, Fern nodded vigorously, his pale purple eyes conveying the message, "This is very important."

"Of course it's amazing." Her tone was firm and unwavering.

Sense lifted his gaze from the magic book and looked at Fern. Her face was expressionless, but her still sleepy eyes revealed an undisguised doubt.

"...?"

She was silent for a few seconds, seemingly trying to process the judgment, but to no avail. Then, she decided to give up thinking, lowered her head, and took a small bite of the dry bread in her hand while sipping her black tea. The chewing was slow and mechanical, as if she were completing the eating process instinctively, while her brain remained in standby mode, pondering the universal question of why "getting up early" is "amazing".