The end?

The last day of the National Day holiday passed in an almost eerie calm.

The grand banquet proceeded as scheduled. Crystal chandeliers illuminated the hall as if it were daytime, and silver and glassware reflected shimmering light. The Emperor and Serie stood side by side on the main stage, completing the symbolic signing of the treaty of friendship. The proceedings were meticulous, the speeches were appropriate, and the guests and hosts enjoyed themselves immensely. There were no surprises, no disturbances, not even the slightest magical disturbance occurred.

The banquet lasted until late at night. As the last guest left with a slightly tipsy smile, and the waiters began to quietly clean up the mess, the expressions of the people gathered in the shadows of the corridor outside the banquet hall were somewhat subtle.

Serie was the first to emerge. Dressed in a white gown, she stopped, turned around, and glanced at Lowell, Frieren, Sense, and the others who followed behind her. A mocking smile curled at the corners of her lips.

"Assassination? Lowell, are you bored out of your mind? Or are you getting senile? Where is the assassin?"

Lowell scratched his head. He glanced at Fern and the others who were also somewhat bewildered beside him, then looked at Sense and Falsh.

"I..." He opened his mouth, trying to find a reasonable explanation, but in the end he just sighed, "No... Oh right, that guy... Linel just gathered information that the Shadow Warriors wanted to assassinate you, right? It's not like I'm the only one saying there was an assassination attempt."

Sense took half a step forward. Her eyelids drooped, her long brown hair hung quietly at her sides, and she added in a steady voice.

"It's true. The intelligence sent back by Linel clearly indicates that the Shadow Warriors plan to harm Serie during the National Day celebrations. However... the core of the intelligence is the 'Shadow Warriors.' And the current situation is that, apart from Clematis, all the core members of the Shadow Warriors have been confirmed as our infiltrators. The only enemy leader, Clematis, has also been apprehended."

Fern stood slightly behind and to the side of Frieren, her pale purple eyes quietly raised. She continued Sense's words clearly.

"In other words, the 'Shadow Warriors' capable of carrying out the assassination no longer exists. From the intelligence source, the threat seems to have been eliminated?"

Falsh pushed up his round-framed glasses.

"No," he began. Clematis had explicitly stated before that the Shadow Warriors would only play a supporting and facilitating role in this operation. The actual assassination would be carried out by personnel from 'other organizations.' Those were his exact words."

The corridor was quiet for a few seconds. In the distance, the faint clattering sound of waiters clearing away cups and plates could be heard.

Frieren blinked her bright green eyes. She was still clutching half a cookie she'd managed to snatch from the banquet table. She took a bite and mumbled something between chews.

Therefore, there are two possibilities.

She swallowed the biscuit, and her voice became clearer.

"First, that 'other organization' does exist. But seeing that all the Shadow Warriors had lost contact and their plan had clearly been exposed, they temporarily abandoned the assassination and chose to Concealment."

"Second," she held up a second finger, "There is no such thing as 'other organizations.' That's just a smokescreen Clematis used to instill confidence in his Shadow Warriors. As for his inability to detect memories and Future Sight abilities... perhaps he was just lucky; he unintentionally acquired some unknown, peculiar magical inheritance in his early years, which happened to counteract these detection methods, resulting in our misjudgment that he had a much larger force behind him."

After listening, Lowell scratched his head vigorously, making his once neat black hair a bit messy. His face showed a mixture of helplessness and frustration.

"Forget it, forget it!" He waved his hand, as if trying to untangle this tangled mess. "Better safe than sorry! Serie, my advice is that you should stay with us for the time being. Regardless of whether that 'other organization' is real or fake, or whether they've given up, until we completely figure it out..."

"I refuse."

Serie interrupted him, her voice crisp and leaving no room for negotiation.

What do you take me for? A well-behaved baby who needs someone to protect me every step of the way?

Her golden eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Lowell, a sharp and dangerous glint flashing within them, a mixture of displeasure at being underestimated and a certain excitement.

"Lorenz."

She uttered the long-forgotten Demons's true name, her tone carrying a clear provocation.

"Should we fight? Let the battle decide whether I need protection?"

Lowell's shoulders slumped. He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and gave a wry smile.

"No... I'm innocent... That's not what I meant." He tried to reason with them, "Think about it, the other side knew that the target was you, the founder of the Continental Magic Association, a monster who has lived since the mythical era... and they still dared to plan an assassination. There are only two possibilities: either they really have the strength and confidence, or they are a bunch of complete, reckless idiots."

"The probability of someone being brain-dead enough to cooperate with an organization like the Shadow Warriors is extremely low, right? So..."

"So what?"

Serie interrupted again. She took a step forward, and an invisible pressure emanated from her, quietly filling the air of the corridor.

"Lorenz, listen carefully. I, Serie, Great Mage has survived since the age of mythology, do not need, and despise, this kind of protection that makes me feel like I'm facing a formidable enemy."

Having said that, she stopped looking at Lowell and ignored the various expressions on the faces of the others. She turned around and strode towards the other end of the corridor without hesitation or looking back.

Stop worrying about me.

"Oh dear... Master!"

Ruby paused for a moment, then cried out. She looked at Serie's retreating figure, then back at Frieren, Lowell, and the others, forcing a somewhat forced smile.

"Um... haha," she waved her hand, trying to ease the tension, "I also think that Master... is indeed unlikely to accept being treated as someone who needs to be closely protected. Um, Master! Wait for me!"

She raised her voice and called out to Serie's retreating figure.

"Master! Wait for me! I'm not trying to protect you! I just... I just haven't seen you in so long, I wanted to talk to you and catch up!"

As she called out, she naturally grabbed Himmel's wrist and pulled him quickly in the direction Serie had gone.

"Himmel, quick, let's catch up! At least we can get Master back to his room!"

Himmel, being pulled along, gave Lowell and the others a slightly apologetic smile, but quickened her pace in response.

The three figures quickly disappeared around the corner of the corridor. The sound of their footsteps faded into the distance, eventually being swallowed up by the thick walls.

The corridor fell silent again, leaving only a few people in the same spot.

Frieren popped the last crumbs into her mouth and clapped her hands. Her emerald eyes looked at Lowell, her expression indifferent, even detached.

"So?" she asked, "What should we do now?"

Lowell rolled his eyes. He crossed his arms and leaned back against the cold stone wall.

"How should I know what to do?" he muttered, his tone tinged with a self-deprecating frustration. "I won't be able to use the ability to foresee the Future Sight right now it's like I'm completely in the dark. You're Great Mage too, my Frieren. A mage is roughly equivalent to a magician, and a magician is roughly equivalent to the brains of the party, right? My dear subject, what plan do you have now?"

Frieren showed no remorse. She pulled out a small, flower-shaped cookie from the banquet from somewhere, took a bite with a "crunch," puffed out her cheeks slightly, and even nodded as if it were perfectly natural.

"Hmm. You're right, mages should be smart." She admitted, chewing on a cookie, then changed the subject, "But you've always been by my side. When you're around, why do I need to rack my brains for tactics? You always figure it out. Over time, that part of my thinking seems to have gotten a little rusty. Now, even if you asked me to, I couldn't come up with anything."

She spoke with such conviction, as if it were a matter of course.

Lupa stood a little distance away, watching her master and mistress's relaxed conversation, and raised her hand to press her temple. She coughed lightly, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

"Uh... Master," she began, "In short, Lady Serie's attitude is very clear. She will never allow us to follow her under the guise of 'protection.' Moreover, logically speaking, if there truly exists an enemy that can completely evade all our senses and remain lurking in the shadows, then even if we force ourselves to stay together, the enemy can choose to continue lurking, waiting for us to relax or scatter. This passive, all-out vigilance cannot be maintained in the long run."

Linié stood beside her, eating an apple, and nodded her little pink head, echoing her softly but clearly.

"Lupa is right."

Sein sighed, his shoulders slumped. His face showed obvious disappointment at missing a good opportunity.

"I was nervous for two whole days..." he muttered. "Such a grand royal banquet, so many elegant ladies present... If I had known there would be nothing wrong, I should have tried to get to know a few of those gentle and beautiful ladies. Instead, I was so focused on being on guard that I didn't get anything done..."

Before he could finish speaking, Kleis raised his hand and lightly tapped him on the back of the head.

"You rascal," Kleis chuckled, but his eyes betrayed a hint of exasperation, "Can't you think about anything serious for once?"