Outpost Transfer Station—Fortress City - Frich
The next morning.
Master and disciple left the city together. After passing through the gate on the other side, an endless expanse of fields unfolded before them.
Basking in the gentle morning sunlight, Guter held his lower back and let out a long stretch.
After a pleasant night's rest at the inn, both Guter and Serie felt tremendously refreshed.
They were now full of energy, making it the perfect time for a long journey.
The coachman had already parked the carriage at the meeting spot they had agreed on the previous day. When Guter and Serie arrived, he was sitting at the front of the carriage, chewing on a piece of bread.
"Morning, sir."
As Guter greeted the coachman, he and his teacher climbed into the carriage one after the other.
Hearing his employers' greeting, the coachman stuffed the remaining half of the bread into his mouth in two quick bites, then clapped his hands and returned their greeting.
Once he saw that both employers were seated securely inside, the coachman lowered the curtain, turned around, and grasped the reins at his side. With a light tug, he directed the horse to start moving.
Following the command, the horse pulled the carriage forward at a brisk pace.
Inside the carriage.
Once the carriage was moving steadily, Guter shifted over to the window and watched the farmland scenery slowly drift backward outside.
Perhaps because midsummer had already passed and autumn was gradually approaching, the crops, fruits, and vegetables in the fields had begun to show signs of an abundant harvest.
Gentle sunlight shone over the green and golden fields. Amid the waves stirred by the breeze, a faint echo of magic could be felt.
This was the magic nature had bestowed upon the world—Magic that stops people from starving.
After admiring the prelude to the harvest for quite some time, Guter suddenly felt inspired.
As enlightenment struck him, Guter immediately sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began meditating.
On the other side of the carriage, Serie, who held a Magic Book in her hands, suddenly paused before turning the page and looked toward her disciple, who had begun meditating on the spot.
"This fluctuation in magical growth..."
"How interesting."
Who knew how much time passed.
When Guter became aware that he was meditating, his expression shifted, and he was about to open his eyes and emerge from his subconscious state.
Unexpectedly, a palm suddenly pressed against his forehead.
The warm hand slid down and covered Guter's eyes, forcibly stopping him from opening them.
"Continue meditating. Settle your mind and don't interrupt the process."
"Alright."
Though Guter's consciousness was still somewhat hazy, he could still recognize his teacher Serie's voice.
So, following his teacher's instructions, Guter eased his tense nerves, immersed his mind once more, and maintained his meditation.
Before his consciousness completely sank away, Guter's final thought was—
Actually, having Teacher touch me like this felt pretty nice. More than a little nice. I didn't want to open my eyes anymore.
Inside the carriage.
Serie stood where she was, maintaining her previous posture.
A soft magical glow swirled around her jade-like fingertips, soothing her disciple's mind and calming his emotions, allowing his meditation to deepen and return to its previous rhythm.
Yet as she continued channeling magic, the surprise on Serie's face grew even stronger.
"The growth in magical power brought about by enlightenment had already been astonishing enough."
"But the strength of his soul... soothing him was making even me vaguely feel my mana being depleted. Just what kind of monster was this disciple of mine?"
An unknown amount of time passed again.
When Guter regained consciousness and tried to open his eyes once more, the hand gently caressing his face no longer stopped him, allowing his eyes to open.
After all, a person's mental strength had a limit. Or rather, there was a limit to the amount one's magical capacity could be expanded in a single day.
Any being with a soul and mental power—whether human, elf, or Demon—even the Demon King, could not break this rule.
Of course, according to the research and calculations of mages,
even if someone could meditate at full capacity for twenty-four hours without rest, they would still basically be unable to reach that limit.
In fact, the highest theoretical model calculated by mage scholars since records began could only reach half that limit.
And a monster like Guter, who had completely maxed out his daily magical capacity expansion, was something even Serie had seen for the first time.
After opening his eyes, Guter rubbed the corners of them and found that he had rubbed out a large clump of eye gunk.
He casually flicked it out the window, then looked toward his teacher standing before him.
Guter noticed a trace of difficulty in Serie's gaze and hurriedly asked,
"What is it, Teacher? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
Serie: "..."
After hesitating for a moment, Serie still said to her disciple, "I've been standing too long. My legs are a little numb. Help me sit down."
"Alright."
Following her command, Guter stepped forward and let Serie rest her arm on him.
Seeing this, Serie gradually shifted her center of gravity onto her disciple.
Unexpectedly, her vision suddenly spun the next moment. By the time she reacted, she realized her disciple had picked her up in his arms.
"Mm..."
It was a somewhat unexpected turn of events, but it did not seem bad. At least her numb feet did not have to walk across the floor.
Perhaps it was an elf's slowness, or perhaps it was simply her mindset as a teacher, but Serie did not think Guter's actions were particularly inappropriate. She was merely a little surprised.
Only after setting his teacher down did Guter return to his seat and seriously examine the changes in himself.
First, his strength.
The most obvious improvement from this lengthy meditation was his magical power, which had increased by a full thirty percent of his previous maximum mana capacity.
Now, let alone slightly suppressing the mana leaking from his body, that idea was simply impossible to achieve.
Even thinking about it caused a little more mana to seep out of him involuntarily.
It was like being unable to hold in a fart when his stomach was bloated, or being unable to stop passing gas when he had diarrhea.
At that moment, Guter felt as though every part of his body was filled with mana.
It was as if his entire body had been flooded with surging magical power, completely taking on the shape of mana.
And mentally.
Unlike ordinary meditation, which required constant effort and initiative to expand one's mana capacity, this meditation born of enlightenment was more like an unconscious, passive process of growth. Not only had his mental strength not been depleted, it had received tremendous rest as his consciousness sank deep within itself.
Guter felt as though he had slept again and again on the most comfortable bed in the world, until he had slept so much that he could not possibly sleep anymore.
That was no exaggeration.
If someone handed Guter a phone right now, he could grind from 1200 to 2100 in the top-ranked bracket without getting sleepy at all.
After taking several deep breaths, Guter gradually adapted to his current body after quite some time. Then he turned his gaze toward his teacher Serie, who was currently sprawled across the carriage bench and did not even want to move a finger.
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