Afterword

Night fell in the Imperial Capital.

The magic lamps on both sides of the street gradually lit up, illuminating the stone pavement with a warm yellow light. The hustle and bustle of the daytime subsided, replaced by the music flowing from the taverns, the aromas wafting from the restaurants, and the scattered footsteps of pedestrians returning home.

On the second floor of a restaurant with a sign that reads "Northern Flavors," the long tables by the window were full of people.

The dishes were all served. The perfectly roasted ribs glistened with oil, their dark juices seeping into the roasted vegetables underneath. The large bowl of salad was fresh and vibrant, next to a small mountain of freshly baked garlic bread. Each person had a drink in front of them, ranging from dark ale to pale golden fruit wine, swirling gently in the light.

Sein cut off a large piece of rib meat, put it in his mouth, chewed a few times, swallowed, and then looked up at the others at the table.

"What...?" he began, "So you all encountered enemies? Why didn't I?"

He took a swig of beer, his brow furrowed slightly.

"I only spent two days wandering around the city, drinking and looking at pretty older women... I didn't encounter any enemies, not even a drunkard looking for trouble. How come you guys were so unlucky?"

Frieren sat opposite him, picking up a uniquely shaped tricolor dumpling with a fork and popping it into her mouth with a slurp, her cheeks puffing out like a squirrel hoarding food. Hearing Sein's words, she blinked her emerald eyes, swallowed the food in her mouth with difficulty, took a sip of water, and then spoke indistinctly.

"I didn't run into them either. I just remember... it seems like I continued north with Lowell and the others, heading towards Ende. But it felt like a dream... When I woke up, I was still in my room at the Imperial Capital Hotel, Lowell was right next to me."

Fern sat beside her, taking small bites of the salad greens. Hearing this, she nodded slightly, her pale purple eyes looking at Sein, her voice steady.

"Yes. I think I had a similar dream to Lady Frieren. It felt like I had left the Imperial Capital and traveled a long way... but when I woke up, I was still in my hotel bed."

Methode and Liletta, sitting a little further away, were engrossed in their grilled meat. Hearing this, they both looked up and exchanged a glance.

Me too.

As soon as they finished speaking, they both lowered their heads again, continuing to focus on their food.

Ruby was sitting next to Serie, struggling to roll a long noodle around her fork. Hearing what everyone was saying, she stopped, her turquoise eyes brightening, a hint of smug satisfaction on her face.

"The one I met over there was pretty strong!" she said, her voice unconsciously rising a little. "White hair, dressed all in white, a real chatterbox, and despite having a very ordinary face, he was incredibly narcissistic! Of course, although he was very strong—"

She drew out her words, turned her head, and gently nudged Serie, who was quietly sipping her tea beside her, with her shoulder, a sweet, slightly ingratiating smile spreading across her face.

"--Of course I was defeated by my super--powerful--master~! Master is the best!"

Serie put down her teacup, glanced at her with her golden eyes, and said nothing.

Ruby stuck out her tongue, her smile unchanged.

Lupa sat on the other side of the table. The plate in front of her was empty, with only a little gravy left. Her Flame Banner Spear leaned against the wall, and her crimson cloak was draped over the back of her chair. She held a glass of ale in her hand, but didn't drink it, just staring blankly at the amber liquid in the glass.

Hearing Ruby's words, she looked up, her heterochromatic pupils showing no emotion, and simply sighed softly.

"I'm not exactly happy about winning... tsk."

She didn't explain further, but simply shook her head, picked up her glass, and took a large gulp.

Ubel sat next to Lanto. She hadn't touched much of her food, and was fiddling with the handle of her knife, the tip tracing circles unconsciously on the tablecloth. Hearing this, she looked up, her purple eyes sweeping over everyone, and a familiar, slightly playful smile curved her lips.

"I'm doing alright here," she said casually. "I dealt with a few guys who were clearly not in good spirits. One called himself 'Sloth,' and the other called himself 'Anger.' They were both very talkative and noisy."

"Oh, and we caught one alive. We had already handed him over to Sense, but he suddenly disappeared without a trace."

Lanto adjusted his glasses. He didn't eat much and moved politely. After listening to Ubel's words, he nodded and continued the conversation.

"Hmm. I heard that the Magical Special Forces did a headcount. All the members who were caught up in the incident, injured, or even 'disappeared' were all recovered. The buildings damaged in the battle also inexplicably returned to their original state at the same time."

He raised his eyes, his gaze behind his glasses calm.

"It's like... everyone had a dream together. When the dream ends, the damage is healed."

There was a moment of silence at the table.

The only sounds were the soft clinking of cutlery against plates and the faint murmur of the marketplace drifting in from outside the window.

Lowell sat in the head seat, barely speaking. He had left more than half his food uneaten, his fork idly poking at the roasted potatoes on his plate, his gaze lowered, as if deep in thought.

Upon hearing Lanto's last words, he stopped poking at the potato.

Then, he slowly raised his head and turned his gaze to Lanto.

The gaze was calm, but for some reason, Lanto felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end slightly.

"Lanto," Lowell called his name.

Lanto looked at him and adjusted his glasses.

"?"

Lowell put down his fork. He leaned back in his chair, placed his hands on the table, and his expression gradually hardened, becoming unusually serious, even scrutinizing.

He stared at Lanto for a full three seconds.

Just as Lanto began to feel a little uncomfortable and was about to look away—

Lowell suddenly raised his right hand and slammed it on the table!

"Bang!"

It wasn't heavy, but it happened suddenly. The cups and plates on the table bounced slightly.

Everyone looked over.

Lowell leaned forward, his arms braced on the table, his finger pointing straight at Lanto. His brow was furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and in a tone that was a mixture of shock, heartache, and a certain exaggerated anger, he questioned, word by word, with crystal clarity:

"You blondie!"

His voice was loud and clear, echoing in the private room.

"What right do you have to marry my daughter?!"

Dead silence.

The private room was deathly silent.

Even the faint noise outside the window seemed to be blocked out by an invisible barrier at this moment.

Ruby's noodles fell back onto the plate with a "plop." Sein choked on the ale he had just drunk, bent over, and coughed violently. Frieren blinked, looked at Lowell, then at Lanto, and slowed her chewing. Fern put down his fork, his pale purple eyes quietly watching them. Methode stopped chewing, looking on with amusement.

Serie picked up the teacup and brought it to her lips without pausing, as if she hadn't heard anything.

Lupa looked at Lowell, then at Lanto, a faint, almost helpless understanding flashing in her heterochromatic eyes.

Linié nibbled on her apple, seemingly used to this scene.

Ubel raised an eyebrow, his purple eyes darting back and forth between Lowell and Lanto, the corners of his mouth curving into a deeper smile, as if he had seen something extremely interesting.

And Lanto, at the eye of the storm—

His expression froze.

It wasn't panic, nor astonishment, but a pure, momentary mental blankness. He maintained the motion of pushing up his glasses, his fingers hovering over the frame, his eyes behind the lenses slightly widened as he looked at Lowell, then slowly and stiffly turned to Ubel sitting next to him.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out.

Then he turned back to Lowell, the blank expression on his face quickly fading, replaced by an extremely calm, almost rigid composure. He lowered his hand, sat up straight, and adjusted his glasses.

He paused, as if processing the absurd question, before replying to Ubel in a calm, clear, and slow tone. "Are you this guy's daughter?"

He looked at Ubel, then shook his head, his gaze returning to Lowell's face, his tone more certain.

"No, that's not right. When did I say I was going to marry her?"

"Puff."

A very soft laugh came from the side.

Ubel raised her hand, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, her shoulders trembling slightly. Her eyes were full of undisguised mischief and pleasure. Looking at Lanto's serious explanation and then at Lowell's feigned seriousness, she finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Hehe..." She lowered her hand, leaning slightly towards Lanto, and asked slowly in a light, slightly mischievous tone:

"Glasses Guy, Lowell said 'marry'..."

She paused deliberately, letting the word linger in the air for a moment longer.

Why did you think of me first?

Her voice rose slightly at the end, like a feather gently brushing against the ear.

Lanto's body seemed unaffected, but a very subtle crack appeared in the calm of his face. His gaze behind his glasses flickered for a moment, as if he wanted to turn to look at Ubel, but the muscles in his neck tensed, and he ultimately did not move.

He opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to immediately refute, but the words caught in his throat.

Lowell's "anger" vanished instantly. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and grinned, revealing a dazzling smile brimming with mockery and amusement. Leaning forward, he closed in on Lanto, narrowed his eyes, and slowly repeated in a theatrical, deliberate, teasing tone:

"Yes~"

He elongated each syllable.

Why?

His gaze shifted back and forth between Lanto's feigned composure and Ubel's smiling expression, his smile growing wider and wider.

Lanto's fingers, resting on the table, twitched slightly. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then, he raised his hand and pushed up his glasses again, the movement a little more forceful than usual. His gaze behind the lenses returned to calm as he looked at Lowell, his voice regaining its previous steady tone, even carrying a hint of helpless indifference.

"You were just looking at her. When you questioned me, your eyes were on her. So I followed your gaze and made a reasonable connection. That's perfectly normal."

His explanation was clear, rational, and impeccable.

Lowell's smile didn't fade at all. He even chuckled and shook his head, as if he had heard something innocent and adorable.

Then, his expression changed again.

His earlier teasing and joking vanished instantly, replaced by an even more exaggerated expression, a mixture of arrogance, criticalness, and an unquestionable authoritarianism. He slightly raised his chin, glanced at Lanto out of the corner of his eye, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, and spoke in a affected tone, carrying the haughty air of an old-fashioned aristocratic patriarch:

My daughter--

He paused deliberately, his gaze sweeping over Ubel —who was resting his chin on his hand, watching his performance with a smile, completely cooperative.

"A beauty that could topple kingdoms, a peerless beauty."

With each word he uttered, his tone became more forceful.

"Hmph, what right does some wild brat who appeared out of nowhere have to join my Luo family?"

He leaned forward, his gaze sharp as lightning, fixed on Lanto.

Don't think you can curry favor with my family's power!

The last few words were spoken with resounding force, their echoes lingering in the private room.

Lanto looked at him, his composure finally crumbling. His lips twitched slightly, and he raised a hand to press his temple, as if suffering from a headache. Then, he lowered his hand, looked at Lowell, and weakly retorted in a flat tone, as if he had given up on arguing altogether:

"Who wants to curry favor?"

"Puhaha--!"

Ruby finally couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter, slapping the table. She laughed so hard she almost fell over, her blue eyes brimming with tears, and between laughs she said, incoherently:

"You're getting into character again! Lowell, what's this... what... oh right! The son-in-law plot! The son-in-law is kicked out of his home, endures for three years, the dragon king returns, and then the father-in-law regrets his actions... Haha! Shouldn't the next line be 'The god of war returns, finds his daughter living in a doghouse, and with one command, ten thousand soldiers rush to his aid'? Um, Lanto? Do you know how to do this?"

"..." Lanto silently picked up his water glass and took a tactical sip. "I can't."