A Disciple's Wish

In the quiet park, Serie crouched on the grass, a faint glow of spellcasting light shimmering in her hands.

Beneath her palms, clusters of flowers conjured by magic sprouted from the green grass, forming a small patch of flower field in the park.

Gazing at the colorful blossoms before her, Serie reached out her hand and gently brushed her fingertips across their petals.

Under the soft touch, in a daze, Serie felt as though she were once again touching the fingertips of her disciple, Flamme, and the corners of her mouth had unknowingly lifted slightly, inadvertently carrying a hint of a smile.

Flamme.

This human disciple of hers, in her memory, was still just a little girl who loved to laugh, her height barely reaching Serie's waist.

That tiny human disciple's favorite thing was to hold her hand and walk through the flower field, then stand at the end of it, hands on her hips, proudly pouring out her ideals.

That child wanted to create an era where everyone could practice magic.

It was such a naive and boring idea.

Just like her favorite [Flower Field Creation Magic]—a useless, dull magic with no practical purpose.

But even when she reached the end of her life, entrusting her disciple to deliver a will that read like a report, she still hoped that Serie would take over her work and teach humans magic.

How ridiculous.

In the end, Flamme was nothing more than a human disciple Serie had casually trained on a whim.

Until the very end of her life, she never managed to understand Serie.

An era where anyone could use magic?

Magic should be special. As an Archmage who has survived since the Mythic Age, this Serie has no intention of teaching magic to those without talent.

But still—

Though Serie had never thought highly of it, that child Flamme had truly realized her ideal.

Within a human lifespan so short it was nearly nonexistent to an elf, she convinced the Human Emperor to approve a nationwide plan for magical research, lifting the taboo on humans studying magic; she discovered over a hundred magical theories and principles, giving humans a foundation for practicing and creating magic.

The era where anyone could use magic did indeed arrive as she wished, not long after her death.

To this day, humans have become an indispensable part of the magical chronicles.

Brilliant human mages, a vast ocean of folk magic—even Serie herself has been surprised by it more than once.

There's no denying it: the era of human magic has arrived.

Even the long-lived Elf Clan will be surpassed by humans.

Still, it's a bit irritating.

When Flamme's disciple, Frieren, delivered the will to Serie, she outright refused Flamme's dying wish for her to teach humans magic.

But in the end, she found herself considering it anyway.

How ironic.

Ah, well. Let's just say she's finally granting her disciple's dying wish—it's only a thousand years late.

Surely her disciple Flamme would understand.

For some reason, Serie couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.

After all, the one you entrusted this to was an elf.

Putting off a decision for a thousand years—for an elf, that doesn't seem too unreasonable.

And, Flamme.

Though [Flower Field Creation Magic] is a dreadfully boring and terrible spell, even after a thousand years, I still remember it.

Whether it was an illusion just now or not.

When Guter caught a faint trace of magical fluctuation in the park and followed it to see a figure that seemed to be Serie, before he could approach and speak, an unusual thin fog rose in the midday park.

By the time the breeze scattered the mist, nothing remained before Guter's eyes.

Neither the faint magical fluctuation nor Serie's figure, not even the clusters of flowers that had just bloomed on the green grass of the park—all had vanished completely.

Only a neat stretch of green grass remained, swaying in the breeze.

As if everything he had seen before was nothing but Guter's illusion.

Yet Guter knew in his heart that the figure just now was undoubtedly Serie.

Combining that with the [Flower Field Magic] he had sensed earlier, Guter guessed that this "Magic Old Timer" was most likely reminiscing about her disciple and, not wanting to be disturbed by strangers, had set up some means to conceal herself.

Perhaps, at this very moment, Serie was still standing in the same spot, only Guter's eyes could no longer see the scene.

Thinking this, Guter bowed in the direction where Serie had appeared, then turned and retraced his steps, leaving the park to stop disturbing this "Magic Old Timer."

After Guter had gone far.

Just as he had speculated, a barrier that had been set up at some unknown time quietly dissipated, and within it, Serie was indeed still standing in place.

However, as she bent down to touch the flowers, Serie also diverted a sliver of her attention to Guter's retreating figure.

"Heh, a human mage, huh."

"How interesting."

The inn in town.

"Huh? How can this be?"

Guter let out a sigh of lament. In the end, he'd still missed the inn's lunch service and couldn't get a bite of fresh hot food.

It was just past mealtime, the time when the kitchen cooks were scrubbing the cookware clean.

Though the front desk clerk smiled warmly at Guter and said it was no problem—even if mealtime had passed a bit, if the guest needed it, she could still have the kitchen staff fire up the stove and cook again—

Guter's mouth twitched. He waved a hand at the clerk, declining this "kindness."

He'd never worked in a restaurant kitchen, but he could still understand the sheer resentment that would erupt from cooks who were already off the clock and had likely washed their tools, only to get a sudden order to start cooking again.

Guter wasn't exactly a good person, but he didn't have that kind of twisted taste.

Besides, a cook in that state of mind might just add some "secret ingredients" to your meal.

It didn't take anything filthy to deliberately disgust a diner—sometimes just an extra spoonful of salt could ruin a dish's flavor.

Guter had always believed that enjoying good food was best when both sides were willing.

The cook putting his heart into the craft, the diner savoring the taste and ingenuity—that was the true "mutual willingness" of dining.

He went to the bakery next to the inn, picked out a few freshly baked loaves to serve as lunch, and headed straight to his room.

Settling his meal on the table, he called up the

System Interface

, planning to claim the reward for the daily quest

Daily Good Deed

.

Ding!

Daily Quest: Daily Good Deed Completed

Random Reward Drawing in Progress

Drawing Complete

Magic Inheritance Scroll: Theft Magic

"Huh???"

"Is this... a big pull?!!!"

Guter's expression jolted. He quickly set down the half-eaten bread and opened the

System Space

interface to check.

This was the first time—he never expected the

Daily Good Deed

lottery pool to contain magic.

And judging by the name

Magic Inheritance Scroll

, it seemed to be the kind of item that let you master the magic directly without needing to learn it.

Perfect. Guter had been worrying that he knew too few spells and had no trump cards up his sleeve—and now this came along.

But

The smile on Guter's face didn't last long.

After reading the item's detailed info in the

System Space

, his expression turned extremely complicated.

Because on the details page, behind the magic recorded on the inheritance scroll, there was an extra restrictive affix.

Namely,

Theft Magic (True Locking Technique)

.