"By the way, what brings you here, Flamme? You've been busy with things outside lately."
The rabbit ears vanished as their duration ran out.
"Oh, nothing much. I just thought of my master's face and came to see her once in a while."
Even so, Serie briskly slapped away the hand Flamme kept reaching out with.
"Get to the point."
"How cold."
Hiding her regret over the rabbit ears, Flamme brushed back her braided hair.
"You've both been focusing on nothing but magic research, right? I came because I was wondering if you were doing all right."
Once their research into magic began, Ainz and Serie spent most of their time inside the stone chamber.
That tendency only grew stronger after Flamme finished her studies and left to make her own way in the world.
"There's no need to worry."
"I figured you'd say that. A year or two isn't much time to an elf, after all. And Ainz doesn't seem like any ordinary human either."
At this rate, the two of them would not leave this place until they reached the end of magic.
They would go on like that until the world itself changed.
Flamme drew in a breath, then slowly let it out.
With both fists planted on her hips, she cried out proudly.
"Still, how about going outside for once?"
Light spilled into the dark stone chamber from the way she had entered.
"You two won't come out unless someone tells you to, right? At this rate, it won't be over before I die."
The mage's night ended, and dawn began to break.
"Even if you live forever, you still need to catch your breath. Who knows? Maybe if you wander around outside, you'll end up able to use magic you couldn't before."
Flamme drew people's hearts the way a blazing fire did.
And the human who had begun to move even steadfast stone was—
Smack
"A potion that melts clothes!"
So much for drawing people's hearts. Serie's fist came down on the laughing Flamme's head.
"Ow!"
"Buying such a useless thing."
"It can melt clothes, you know? There's no way that's useless."
"...Be grateful I'm not pouring it over your head."
Having come outside at Flamme's urging, Ainz looked around.
*It's been a long time since I came out.*
He had been so focused on improving his mastery of magic that he had not looked around the city since the first day.
Even when he did come out, it was only for a moment.
It would be fair to say he had paid little attention to it.
The place Flamme had brought them this time was a back alley in the city.
It was a place of uneven stone steps and shabby tents, where crouching merchants laid goods out on rugs and called out to customers.
Flamme boldly pushed through them, picked up an item, proudly showed off the potion that melts clothes, and got hit for it.
As if her skull were still ringing, she pressed down on her head and shook the vial in her hand.
"Do you know how precious a magic tool this is?"
A magic tool.
In Yggdrasil terms, that meant—
*An item.*
In the game, it was the most important factor after raw stats.
As someone who had poured hundreds of thousands of won into gacha just to obtain items, Ainz could not help but take a deep interest in the objects of this other world.
*I want it.*
The collector in him stirred at the sight of such a strange and marvelous object.
Serie had called it useless, but depending on how one thought about it, a potion that melts clothes seemed quite practical.
If it melted clothes, then that meant it could permanently erase an opponent's equipment.
If it truly applied to the very concept of clothing, then could it perhaps melt even a world-class item?
*Even if not, the more cards I have in hand, the better.*
Whatever the case, it was certainly an intriguing object.
Though he wore a mask, he could not hide his gaze. Flamme looked at Ainz with sly eyes.
"Hmm...."
When she moved the potion in her hand, his gaze followed it. Certain now, Flamme held out the potion that melts clothes to Ainz.
"Here."
"You're giving it to me?"
"Yeah. It's a gift."
Not understanding why, he accepted it almost reflexively and examined the potion.
*So this is an item that melts clothes.*
Slosh.
The liquid inside the purple bottle shimmered with an uncanny light, making it seem strangely beautiful.
*If I ever return, perhaps I should test it on low-grade equipment first. It would be best to drip one drop at a time by item rank. I should think through a list of clothing-type items.*
The more he thought about the possibilities contained in that tiny bottle, the brighter the red glow behind his mask became.
Watching him, Flamme wore an amused expression.
"So men like this sort of thing."
She made a mental note that giving a man a potion that melts clothes worked well as a gift.
As a result, a certain silver-haired elf would later acquire some very mistaken information, though given Flamme's personality, it likely would have happened sooner or later anyway.
In any case, Ainz stored the potion that melts clothes in his subspace and walked on through the alley.
"Magic tools are often traded quietly like this. Since magic is seen as the exclusive domain of demons, magic tools don't have the best reputation either. Though compared to magic itself, they're treated a little better."
"Just as Flamme says, since magic tools are objects, they're more accessible. Even commoners can come into contact with them easily. Compared to the era I lived in, this is a far more convenient age."
From Flamme, he heard modern history; from Serie, its source.
The more he learned of the world through their conversations, the more the veil over the unknown was lifted, and behind it lay one fascinating thing after another.
Flamme looked truly delighted as she went from stall to stall appraising all kinds of magic tools.
"It just feels good when I wander around like this and find an interesting magic tool."
"How are magic tools usually distributed?"
"Some specialists make them directly, and another way is to enter dungeons and search for magic tools from the mythic age."
"Dungeons? So there are dungeons too."
"Interested?"
"Very much so."
"Adventurers clear dungeons and excavate magic tools, then merchants buy them and sell them. Besides that, dungeons often preserve styles from the mythic era, so there are plenty of archaeologists interested in them too."
"Ohh."
This world was even more full of fantasy than he had imagined.
Adventure, travel, romance. What a stirring tale it was.
*That's why I loved Yggdrasil.*
You defeated monsters in dungeons, assembled better items, and challenged even stronger foes.
Remembering the days that had shone brightest filled him with exhilaration, yet when he thought of how they had ended, a hollow feeling welled up as well.
Meanwhile, Serie, a living witness to that ancient history, clicked her tongue.
"As someone who actually lived through that same mythic age, I can't say I find it very amusing."
"Well, you're an elf, Master. You're in seclusion, so no one knows you, but if you went to the imperial capital and opened your mouth once, every paper they've written so far would be thrown out."
So Serie was treated like a walking spoiler.
"Tch."
And so their tour of magic tools continued.
A merchant slapped his rug and called out to them as they passed.
"Hey there, big fellow, you've got some real beauties with you. How about it? Why not buy a magic tool?"
"Sorry, but I'll decline."
He had been forced to accept a few magic tools, but that was only because of Flamme's generosity.
The only gold coins he had were from Yggdrasil, so he merely observed and bought nothing.
*Money, huh. Yggdrasil currency won't be accepted here. Thinking ahead, I'll need this world's gold coins.*
Because his racial traits as an undead left him with no need to worry about food, the matter had not even occurred to him until now.
Later, he would have to take the time to study ways of earning money.
Thus, carrying an armful of magic tools, they left the alley.
"I owe you one, Flamme."
"This much is fine. I'm the one who asked you to come out with me, right? If it really bothers you, you can pay me back later."
"I will make sure to do that."
As they stood in the passage leading out of the alley, they could see the light.
Unlike the darkness within, outside was dazzling beneath the burning sun.
As they climbed the steps, shadows stretched long from Flamme, who stood at the boundary between alley and road.
"I want people to use magic and magic tools more actively. Magic is fun, isn't it?"
Her arms spread wide. The shadow cast by the firelight of her spirit held a vast resolve.
Things that were fun were best enjoyed together.
I want people to understand that feeling.
That was the sentiment behind her cry, but...
"I disagree."
Following behind, outside that shadow, Serie denied it.
"Magic must remain special. Even if you place power in the hands of the mediocre masses, they won't be able to wield it properly."
The belief that one should teach only the talented and the wish to spread it widely stood in opposition.
"I see."
Her face was hidden by the light, but Flamme seemed to smile bitterly at those words.
She too had been a child chosen by Serie for her talent. She could not simply deny her master's words.
"..."
Was the distance between those ideals the reason she had left?
Perhaps when she asked them to go out together this time, this was what she had wanted to say. She must have hoped that by walking together, they would understand the joy she found in it.
Neither of them tried to force their beliefs on me.
Likewise, I had no intention of taking either side.
Depending on how one thought about it, both of them were right.
And so the tour of magic tools came to an end, and it was time to part with Flamme.
"I had fun."
He waved to the departing Flamme and set out on the journey back home.
The road back was quiet.
Only the cries of a lively fruit stall and the noise of children running about with tree branches filled the air.
"What do you think of Flamme?"
As they walked side by side, Serie spoke.
What did he think of her?
He had not had many points of contact with Flamme.
All he knew was that she was an unusual child and that she liked magic that created flower fields.
Even so, there was one thing he could say for certain.
"She's a kind child."
Every word she spoke carried consideration, and when he looked into her green eyes, he could sense wisdom in her despite her youth.
"Yes, she is a kind child. She lost her family to demons, but she grew up remarkably well."
A strong wind might extinguish a flame, but a faint wind could make it grow beyond control.
Flamme surely possessed a vessel great enough to endure even a harsh wind.
"Flamme has the exceptional talent to reach the same heights as me. They appear from time to time. The shorter their lives, the more fiercely that flame grows."
That was why it pained her. Humans wasted their short lives on trivial things, and she found it unbearably regrettable.
They could shine so much more. If only that burning desire, blazing like fire, were turned elsewhere, then perhaps she could aim even higher than someone like herself, who had mastered all magic simply by living long enough.
Such feelings showed through in Serie's otherwise emotionless eyes.
"If she hadn't had talent, would you still have saved her?"
He stopped walking.
A brief silence followed. Ainz had spoken without thinking, but there was weight in his words, and Serie had no choice but to stop where she stood.
Between rows of white houses, the two figures stood facing each other. Serie opened her mouth.
"Picking her up, raising her—it was all just a whim. So even if one child learns magic, nothing will change."
Just as she herself, despite possessing magic that could part the sea and remake heaven and earth, was still nothing in the face of the present, no one would care even if a single untalented child learned magic.
"Then that's enough."
"Easy for you to say."
"Aren't we in a cooperative relationship? If something troubles you, feel free to consult me."
"I was merely asking. This isn't a consultation."
Serie, who had stopped in place, pursed her lips, then soon turned her attention to a fruit stall in the distance.
"Fine. I'll go buy something to eat for a moment."
"As you like."
Waiting in the shade where the sunlight did not reach, he saw Serie return with two red fruits in her hand.
"Eat."
"I can't eat food. You know that."
She forced the fruit into his hand anyway.
"It would be lonely to eat alone, so I'll tell you what it tastes like."
"What it tastes like?"
"I never said I would teach you only magic. I said I would teach you how to live as a person."
Saying that eating was part of that as well, she bit into the small red fruit with her tiny hand. The flesh burst open, and pieces of the white interior broke apart and fell away.
"It's sweet. It crunches when you bite it, springy and firm, and the juice overflows, leaving a refreshing sensation."
"That's a detailed description."
"Well? Can you imagine it?"
"I'm not sure this has any meaning."
The fruit resting in his gauntleted hand did indeed look delicious, much like an apple.
"There are beings who still don't seem human even when they eat food. Demons, for example. They take in nourishment from food and can taste it, yet they deliberately kill and eat humans. Even though they have no need to."
He lifted the lower edge of his mask and bit into the fruit. The teeth of a fleshless skull crushed it apart.
He felt no taste at all, yet after hearing Serie's words, it almost seemed as though he could sense one, however faintly.
"How is it?"
"I can't taste anything. Still, after hearing what you said, I feel like I can almost imagine it."
"As I thought, you're better than demons."
Elves were slow.
Their sense of time was somehow skewed enough that they could spend thirty years merely turning over in place.
If not for Flamme, this conversation too would likely have been postponed endlessly.
What moved steadfast stone was not one who waited for it to roll someday, but one who lived in the fleeting instant.
*
"So you finally succeeded."
"Yes."
Had Flamme's words really helped—that taking a breather would make magic go more smoothly?
Before his eyes, the potion that melts clothes floated in midair.
When he moved his hand, it shifted sideways or drew closer according to its position.
"But why is the thing you chose to levitate a potion that melts clothes of all things?"
"Who knows. It just turned out that way."
Whatever the case, it was a first success worth boasting about.
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