The Treasure Chest

Three days had passed since they left Central City.

The road gradually veered away from the main route and deeper into the hills. People grew scarce, but the air grew fresher. Towering trees wove their crowns into a green canopy overhead, and sunlight filtered through the gaps, dappling the ground.

Lowell walked in front at an unhurried pace. Frieren followed two steps behind him, her gaze wandering aimlessly over the plants and stones by the roadside.

"It's noon." Lowell stopped and found a flat patch of grass in the shade of a tree.

"Mm." Frieren answered and sat down beside him.

They each took rations from their packs—hard bread, cheese, and dried meat. They ate quietly, washing the food down with water from their waterskins.

Frieren nibbled at her bread, her gaze resting on a cluster of wild berries nearby. Red fruit dotted the green leaves, looking very tempting. She watched them for a while, then looked away and returned her attention to her bread.

"If you want some, go pick them," Lowell said without looking up.

"...I don't," Frieren mumbled, chewing faster.

After lunch, Lowell leaned against the tree trunk and closed his eyes to rest. Frieren got up and wandered slowly around the area. Now and then, she crouched to examine an unusual mushroom or lightly touched a dewy spiderweb with her fingertips.

When she walked around the back of a huge ancient tree, she stopped.

An inconspicuous crack lay among the tree's roots, and a faint light seemed to flicker deep inside it. A barely perceptible magical fluctuation emanated from within.

"Hehe~ Lowell, look." She called to him, her voice carrying a trace of interest that was easy to miss.

Lowell opened his eyes, walked over to her, and followed her gaze.

"An entrance to a secret realm," he concluded. "It's small and unstable. It was probably formed naturally."

Frieren's eyes lit up slightly. "There's something inside."

"Maybe. But it could also be a trap," Lowell warned. "Small secret realms like this sometimes have guardian monsters."

"Let's take a look and find out." Even as she spoke, Frieren was already bending down to peer into the crack. As she approached, it rippled like the surface of water, giving off more noticeable waves of mana.

Lowell watched her from behind and shook his head helplessly before following her inside.

Passing through the crack felt like passing through a film of icy water. The scene before them changed abruptly.

They found themselves in a small cave. Glowing moss studded the ceiling, providing a faint light. The air was damp and smelled of earth and minerals. Something stood in the middle of the cave.

A treasure chest.

It was made of wood, with faded metal edging. The clasp looked somewhat old, but the chest as a whole was intact. It sat there quietly, offering a silent temptation in the glow of the moss.

Frieren's breath caught noticeably.

Her eyes widened at once, the shape of the chest reflected in her pupils, and the corners of her mouth curled upward beyond her control.

"Hehe~"

She let out a barely audible laugh of satisfaction and anticipation. She even forgot to say anything to Lowell before setting off.

Rather than her usual slow steps, she raised her arms slightly and practically trotted, a little bounce in her step like a small animal that had spotted a beloved toy, charging straight toward the chest with her eyes fixed on it.

Lowell opened his mouth, intending to warn her to be careful. But before he could say "Wait"—

It was already too late.

Frieren's fingers had just touched the cold clasp.

"Click."

A soft sound rang out.

The lid sprang open—not upward, but at an angle that defied all physical sense, flipping up and expanding in an instant like some creature's gaping maw. It became a huge cavity filled with sharp teeth and swallowed the entire upper half of Frieren's body as she bent over it, her face full of anticipation!

"Ah, this is bad."

Frieren had only enough time to let out a short cry before the Mimic pulled her off balance. Her legs kicked wildly outside, while her hands were trapped inside the chest, leaving her to beat futilely against its walls.

"It's dark, it's so dark, Lowell!" Her muffled voice came from inside the Mimic, tinged with panic. "I'm scared, help me!"

Lowell stood where he was, silently watching the chest rock back and forth as whimpering and thumping sounds came from it. He sighed softly, his calm expression a mix of "I knew it" and "What am I going to do with you?"

He walked slowly forward.

The Mimic seemed to sense the threat and bit down harder, making an intimidating creaking sound. Frieren struggled more violently too.

"Don't move," Lowell said. His voice was quiet, but effective. The movement inside the chest immediately subsided, leaving only faint, stifled gasps.

Lowell extended a hand, a nearly imperceptible fluctuation of mana gathering at his fingertip. He used no offensive magic, merely touching the edge of the Mimic's closed "lid" lightly with his finger.

The Mimic shuddered as though it had been tickled, and its "mouth" sprang open in a reflex.

"Pwah!"

Frieren seized the chance to pull her upper body free. She staggered back two steps and landed on her backside. She gasped for air, her long silver hair a mess and covered in glistening, thick, transparent slime. Her face and clothes were covered in it too, leaving her looking wet and slippery all over.

After spitting her out, the Mimic quickly closed with a click and returned to the appearance of an ordinary chest. It even looked a little older than before, as though it had nothing to do with the ferocious monster from moments ago.

Lowell crouched down and looked at Frieren, who sat on the ground in a sorry state. She was wiping the slime from her cheeks with the back of her hand, but the more she wiped, the stickier it got.

"I said it might be a trap," Lowell said, with no trace of reproach in his voice.

Frieren looked up, strands of hair stuck to her face. A trace of panic still lingered in her eyes, but there was more frustration than anything else. She pouted and offered a quiet defense. "...It looked just like an ordinary treasure chest. I thought there might be a magic book inside."

Lowell said nothing more. He took a clean cloth from his pack, dampened it with a little water, and began wiping the slime from her face. His movements were practiced and gentle.

Frieren sat quietly and let him wipe her face, only drawing her neck back slightly when he touched the sensitive area near her ears.

After all that wiping, the slime still clung stubbornly to her. This Mimic seemed rather unusual.

"We'll have to rinse it off with water," Lowell concluded.

Frieren looked at her sticky hands and clothes, at a loss.

"Mm."

Fortunately, there was a small pool in the secret realm. Lowell helped Frieren clean up for a long time before they managed to get most of the slime off, but her hair and clothes were wet, and the slightly slippery feeling might not go away for a while.

When they finished, Frieren stood by the pool, wringing out her soaking hair as she glared at the now motionless chest.

Lowell walked over to it and gave it a gentle kick.

The chest didn't budge, thoroughly committed to playing dead.

"Should we get rid of it?" he asked.

Frieren looked at the chest, hesitated, then shook her head. "...Forget it. It didn't really hurt me." More importantly, a low-level Mimic like this couldn't possibly have any worthwhile treasure inside, so she had been bitten for nothing.

She walked over to the chest, still a little unwilling to let it go, and gave it another gentle kick with her still-wet toe.

The chest remained unresponsive.

"Let's go. Hopefully, next time we come, a few magic books will have suddenly appeared in its mouth," Lowell said.

Frieren cast one last glance at the chest that had gotten the better of her, then turned and followed Lowell toward the secret realm's exit. Her soaked clothes clung uncomfortably to her body, and her hair hung limply, making her look a little downcast.

They emerged from the secret realm and returned to the sunny woodland. A warm breeze brushed past, making her sneeze.

Lowell took a spare coat of his from his pack and handed it to her.

"Put this on for now."

Frieren accepted the dry coat and went behind a large tree to change into it. Lowell's coat was huge on her, its hem reaching almost to her knees and its sleeves hanging well past her hands. But at least it was dry.

She rolled up the overlong sleeves and walked back to Lowell's side.

"Next time..." Lowell began.

"I know..." she muttered. "I'll check first next time..."

"That's what you said last time too." He stated the fact without reproach, only a hint of teasing in his voice.

Lowell looked at her figure, made even smaller by the oversized coat, and the strand of silver hair still dripping water. The faintest hint of a smile passed through his eyes.

"Mm." He nodded and turned to continue down the road. "Let's go. We need to find a suitable campsite before dark. You need to dry your hair completely."

Frieren followed behind him, trying to wring out her soaked hair as she walked. Sunlight shone on her, and the coat still carried Lowell's faint scent, like a mixture of old books and sunshine.

That evening, they made camp beside a stream.

The campfire crackled, and two fish Lowell had just caught roasted on a rack, filling the air with their aroma.

Frieren sat by the fire, her long silver hair hanging loose, fine wisps of steam rising from it in the firelight. She had completely dried herself off and changed back into her own clothes.

Lowell handed her one of the cooked fish.

Frieren took it, blew on it carefully, then took a bite. The skin was crisp, and the flesh was tender.

She ate quietly, her gaze occasionally drifting to the dancing flames. She seemed to be thinking about the chest from earlier that day, yet she also seemed to be thinking of nothing at all.

After finishing the fish, she licked the corners of her mouth contentedly.

"Can we reach the royal capital tomorrow?" she asked.

"It should take another three days," Lowell said, tending the fire.

"Oh."

Frieren said nothing more. She hugged her knees and watched the flames, her eyelids slowly growing heavy. The day's ordeal had evidently taken its toll on her energy.

Lowell added a log to make the fire burn brighter.

As the night deepened, the stream burbled, and insects chirped back and forth.

Frieren's head nodded, until she finally rested it gently on Lowell's shoulder, her breathing growing slow and even.

Lowell turned his head to look at her peaceful sleeping face and adjusted his position to make her more comfortable.