In the tranquil park, Serie crouched on the grass, a faint casting glow swirling in her hand.
Beneath her palm, clusters of flowers brought forth by magic emerged from the green lawn, forming a small flower field in the park.
Gazing at the colorful blossoms before her, Serie reached out and lightly brushed her fingertips across their petals.
Amid that gentle touch, Serie vaguely felt as though she had once again touched the fingertips of her disciple, Flamme, and the corners of her lips unknowingly lifted into a faint smile.
Flamme.
In her memory, her human disciple had been no more than a little girl who loved to smile, barely tall enough to reach Serie's waist.
That tiny human disciple had loved nothing more than taking Serie's hand through flower fields, then standing at the far end with her hands on her hips and proudly telling her about her dream.
That child had wanted to build an era where everyone could practice magic.
What a childish and boring idea.
Just like her beloved Flower Field Creation Magic, it was a pointless and tedious spell.
Yet even in that report-like will she had sent through her own disciple at the end of her life, she had still hoped Serie would take over her work and teach humans to practice magic.
How laughable.
Sure enough, in the end, Flamme had merely been a human disciple Serie had casually raised on a whim.
Even when her life came to an end, they had never understood one another.
An era where anyone could use magic?
Magic should be something special. As an Archmage who had survived since the Mythic Era, I, Serie, had no intention of teaching magic to those without talent.
But still.
Though Serie had never believed in it, Flamme had truly achieved her dream.
Within a human lifespan so brief it was nearly nonexistent to elves, she had persuaded the human emperor to approve a nationwide plan to study magic, ensuring that human magical research was no longer considered taboo. She had discovered over a hundred theoretical principles of magic, giving humanity a foundation for practicing and creating spells.
The era where anyone could use magic had indeed arrived soon after her death, just as she had wished.
By now, humans had become an indispensable part of the history of magic.
Brilliant human mages and the vast sea of Folk Magic had surprised even Serie herself more than once.
There was no denying it. The age of human magic had arrived.
Even the long-lived Elf Clan would one day be surpassed by humans.
Still, it was somewhat irritating.
When Flamme's disciple Frieren had delivered the will to her, Serie had refused Flamme's wish for her to teach magic to humans.
Yet in the end, she had still come to consider it.
How ironic.
Fine. I'll consider it granting my disciple's final wish. I'm only a thousand years late.
I'm sure my disciple Flamme would understand.
For some reason, Serie could not help but chuckle softly.
After all, the person you entrusted it to was an elf.
Leaving a decision aside for a thousand years hardly seemed excessive for an elf.
And Flamme.
Though Flower Field Creation Magic is an utterly boring, terrible spell, even after a thousand years, I still remember it.
She wondered whether what had appeared before her just now had been an illusion.
When Guter sensed a faint magical fluctuation in the park and followed it to spot a figure who seemed to be Serie, several wisps of mist unusually rose in the park at noon before he could approach and speak to her.
Once the breeze dispersed the mist, nothing remained in Guter's sight.
Neither the faint magical fluctuation nor Serie's silhouette remained. Even the clusters of flowers that had just bloomed from the grass had vanished completely.
Only a neat expanse of grass remained, swaying in the breeze.
As though everything he had seen before had merely been Guter's illusion.
Yet Guter knew that the figure from before had undoubtedly been Serie.
Combining that with the flower field magic he had sensed earlier, Guter guessed that this "Magic Old Timer" was likely mourning her disciple and did not wish to be disturbed by strangers, so she had used some method to hide herself.
Perhaps Serie was still standing there at this very moment. It was simply that Guter's eyes could no longer see her.
With that thought, Guter bowed toward the place where Serie had appeared, then turned and left the park by the way he had come, no longer disturbing this "Magic Old Timer."
After Guter had gone far away.
Just as he had guessed, an unseen barrier quietly dispersed, and Serie, who had been within it, was indeed still standing in the same spot.
However, as Serie bent down to stroke the flowers, part of her attention drifted toward Guter's departing figure.
"Heh, a human mage?"
"Interesting."
An inn in the city.
"Eh? How could this happen?"
Guter let out a mournful sigh. In the end, he had still missed the inn's lunchtime meal and failed to get even a bite of freshly prepared hot food.
It was not long after mealtime, when the kitchen staff were washing their cooking utensils.
The smiling young clerk at the front desk told Guter that it was no problem. Though lunchtime had passed slightly, if a guest needed it, she could still ask the kitchen staff to light the stove and cook again.
Guter's lips twitched as he waved his hand at the clerk, refusing her "kindness."
Though he had never worked in a restaurant kitchen, Guter could understand just how much resentment kitchen staff, who were already at the end of their shift and had likely finished washing their utensils, would feel upon suddenly being told to light the stove and cook again.
Guter was no saint, but he did not have that sort of nasty hobby.
Besides, angry kitchen staff in that state of mind might add some "mysterious extra ingredients" to your food.
There was no need to deliberately disgust diners with filth. Sometimes, merely adding an extra spoonful of salt could greatly affect the flavor of a dish.
Guter had always felt that enjoying food should be something both sides were willing to do.
The kitchen staff should wholeheartedly prepare delicious food, while diners should wholeheartedly savor its flavors and ingenuity. That was the proper mutual understanding behind enjoying a meal.
After going to the bakery beside the inn and casually picking out several freshly baked loaves to serve as lunch, Guter headed straight to his room.
While finishing lunch at the table, he summoned the System Interface and prepared to draw the reward for the Daily Good Deed daily mission.
Ding! Daily Mission: Daily Good Deed completed Drawing random reward Drawing complete Magic Inheritance Scroll: Theft Magic
"Hmm???"
"Did I hit the jackpot?!!!"
Guter's expression jolted. He hurriedly set down the half-eaten bread in his hand and opened the System Space to check.
This was his first time seeing magic in the Daily Good Deed reward pool.
And judging by the name Magic Inheritance Scroll, this seemed to be the kind of item that allowed its user to directly master a spell without studying it.
This was perfect. Guter had been worrying that he knew too few spells and lacked any hidden trump cards, only to obtain this.
But still.
The smile on Guter's face did not last long.
After reading the item's detailed information in the System Space, Guter's expression became extremely complicated.
Because on the details page, the magic recorded on the inheritance scroll had acquired an additional restrictive suffix.
Namely, Theft Magic (Kazuma's True Locking Technique).
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