Chapter 4: "Good Night, Mada Paker"

In the light of the morning sun, Flamme finally got a clear view of their surroundings. Fields of vibrant flowers stretched as far as the eye could see, swaying gently in the breeze. In the middle of this floral sea lay a serene, expansive freshwater lake.

"It's been years since I last came here. Since we've walked so far and worked up a sweat, taking a bath here seems like a good idea. Frieren, care to join me?"

"Alright."

Covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, Frieren nodded. The sticky mess clinging to her skin was becoming unbearable.

"Ivan, don't you dare peek—" Flamme's warning was cut short as her gaze shifted to Ivan.

He seemed to take the first rays of the sun as some sort of signal. Moving with lightning speed, he pulled a collapsible tent from his bag, set it up in a single motion, crawled inside within seconds, and promptly fell into a peaceful, baby-like slumber.

"Good night, Mada Paker," he muttered in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Honestly," Flamme muttered, "While this lifestyle might be practical on the road, it's terribly unhealthy in the long run. I'll have to address this behavior when the opportunity arises."

She gave an exasperated sigh and led Frieren to a more secluded spot by the lake.

"Here will do," Flamme said before stopping Frieren's movements with a raised hand. "Wait. Let me set up an anti-peeping barrier first."

With a casual wave of her hand, the air around them shimmered and twisted, signaling the formation of the barrier.

This left Frieren wide-eyed in astonishment.

To create such a barrier without scattering magical materials or using an magic circle was far beyond her comprehension.

"This isn't some heavy-duty defensive barrier or complex illusion," Flamme explained with a smile. "It's just a simple manipulation of light. It doesn't even require converting mana into a tangible state, so it's easy to maintain."

"Did Ivan teach you this?" Frieren asked, surprised.

"Yup! That guy is always coming up with strange and unusual ideas. He's constantly muttering things like, 'Master science and technology, and you can go anywhere fearlessly.' Take starting a fire, for instance. Most mage would just use a basic fireball spell, but he insists on concentrating sunlight to ignite things. He's always teaching me weird ways to use magic…"

"Flamme, aren't you supposed to be his teacher?"

"That's not the point."

"…"

"And don't even get me started on calculus!" Flamme continued with a groan. "Despite me repeatedly telling him I don't understand it, he keeps forcefully teaching me concepts like functions, velocity, acceleration, and curve slopes! My head is going to explode!"

"...I'm truly amazed," Frieren replied in her typical deadpan voice. "From how you behaved in the village, I thought you were a serious and composed great mage, someone deeply mature. It turns out, you care quite a lot about that Ivan fellow."

"Well…"

Flamme removed the last piece of clothing covering her lower body, revealing her smooth, fair thighs—plump, shapely, and flawlessly slender. Her tall and elegant figure, despite slightly fuller thighs than standard proportions, maintained a stunningly beautiful curve. Her eyes carried an inexplicable gleam as she spoke.

"Regardless of age, people's inner selves are often similar to when they were young. The so-called maturity seen on the outside is usually just a facade—an image adults maintain to serve as role models for children. Add in responsibilities, and it creates this stereotypical image of maturity," she explained.

"Those who bear responsibility must act mature and reliable in front of others. Conversely, when someone comes along to share that burden, it's only natural for their true personality to emerge during moments of mental relaxation. Do you understand now?"

"Human emotions... they are truly intricate and overwhelming," Frieren said, casting a glance at Flamme's impressive chest. Then, she looked at her own and silently sank into the water.

"Is Ivan someone who can share that burden for you?" Frieren asked.

"Yes," Flamme admitted with a nod.

This left Frieren puzzled. "But his mana is... well, like that of an ordinary farmer, right? You've mentioned that his mana is entirely genuine." As she spoke, she gestured with her thumb and forefinger to illustrate.

In his tent, a sleeping Ivan seemed to sense something, frowned slightly, then turned over and resumed his slumber.

Flamme chuckled softly. "While you're measuring his mana capacity, I'd advise you not to make such gestures in front of him. Ivan holds grudges."

"With such low mana capacity, even casting a fireball spell would be challenging. Is someone like that truly strong?" Frieren tilted her head in confusion.

"He is indeed strong—terrifyingly so. He just lacks the self-awareness for it. He often jokes about being a weakling," Flamme explained. "Frieren, never judge someone's combat power solely by their mana reserves. Especially when it comes to Ivan—you could suffer greatly if you do."

"I understand." Frieren nodded.

---

2:00 PM

A well-rested Ivan slowly woke up, taking a deep breath of fresh air. "What a beautiful day," he murmured.

However, upon stepping out of his tent, he was greeted by the sight of Flamme and Frieren crouched in front of a treasure chest, examining it intently.

"This is highly suspicious," Frieren said first. "A treasure chest falling from the sky? There's no way it's normal. It's likely a mimic carried here by some flying monster."

Flamme shook her head. "That's just one possibility. Deduction is the work of detectives. As mages, we should trust our magical senses. The aura emanating from this... no doubt about it—inside is a rare grimoire from the mythical era! It's a gift from the goddess!"

"But the spell for detecting mimics also identified it as a mimic," Frieren argued.

"Detection spells are only 95% accurate. The ability to see through the remaining 5% is what defines a truly exceptional mage and leads to groundbreaking discoveries."

Flamme's expression was so solemn and earnest that Frieren began to waver. Seeing this, Flamme pressed on.

"As Ivan's homeland says, 'Practice is the sole criterion for testing truth.' To confirm whether it's a real treasure chest, we just need to open it. Don't worry—I'm here, so you have nothing to fear."

"Alright," Frieren agreed.

"Wait, Frieren! Don't listen to her—" Ivan extended a hand in protest, but Frieren's movements were swift. She opened the chest in one clean motion.

A burst of golden light flashed.

Ivan froze mid-step, ready to intervene.

"It really is a grimoire!" Frieren exclaimed, holding an ancient scroll from the mythical era. Her usually calm eyes now sparkled with excitement.

Flamme wore a smug smile and shot Ivan a triumphant look. "See? It's a treasure chest holding a grimoire. Why didn't you believe me?"

Ivan: "..."

He quietly slipped back into the tent, covered himself with the blanket, and lay down, a relieved smile spreading across his face.

"Not a mimic, but an actual treasure chest?"

"Maybe I've been too tired from all the traveling lately, to dream something so absurd and bizarre."