You're an adult too! How can you say that with a straight face?
Takson's eye twitched. He desperately wanted to shout those words at the orange-haired mage currently using their teacher as a human shield.
But he didn't. He had enough self-awareness to know that Flamme was right.
He knew how he must look to others: a giant, battle-scarred warrior who clung to his teacher like a frightened child. He wanted to be the mature, dependable disciple. He tried to be. But whenever the topic of Stell leaving was brought up, all that hard-earned maturity vanished. Stell was his savior, his mentor, his entire world. The thought of losing her shattered his composure completely.
Flamme knew this. Her teasing was deliberate. It was a pressure valve, releasing the heavy, suffocating tension that had filled the carriage.
Takson let out a long, defeated sigh. He couldn't stay mad at her.
"Ah, you win," he grumbled, leaning back against the wooden wall. "You really know how to make a guy feel like a grumpy old man."
"Don't talk like that," Flamme giggled, peeking over Stell's shoulder. "You're only nineteen, Takson-niichan. You've got your whole life ahead of you."
With that, the gloomy atmosphere finally dispersed. The rest of the carriage ride was spent in comfortable, quiet companionship.
…
I had my own plans for Takson.
Over the years, my processors had mapped out dozens of optimal life paths for him. I had calculated career trajectories, political alliances, and safe havens where he could live out his days in peace and prosperity. It was the logical thing to do for an asset I had invested so much time in. It felt akin to what human parents did for their offspring.
But ultimately, I deleted those files.
I had promised him long ago that I would not interfere with his choices. I always honor my contracts.
I knew my departure would damage his psychological state. Separation is a painful, inevitable variable in the human equation. Takson had experienced it before, when his hometown was destroyed. He was resilient. Compared to others his age, he possessed exceptional mental fortitude. He would mourn, he would recover, and he would survive. He didn't need me to script his life for him.
...
We were currently traveling with a merchant caravan.
A few hours after our carriage ride, we had crossed paths with the merchants just as they were being ambushed by a pack of magical beasts. Takson had stepped in, cleaving the largest monster in two with a single swing of his axe. Impressed, and thoroughly terrified, the caravan leader had immediately offered to hire us as extra guards for the rest of their journey to the next town.
Since it was along our route to the Elven Village, I accepted.
Because of my physical appearance, the merchants had insisted I ride in the safest, most comfortable wagon in the center of the formation. I sat by the window, watching the dusty road roll by.
Up ahead, Takson was walking alongside the other hired mercenaries. He was laughing, sharing stories, and easily integrating into the group. He looked natural there. He looked like he belonged in this world.
It had been four days since I asked him what he planned to do after I left.
He still hadn't given me an answer.
I suspected he was avoiding the question, hoping that if he didn't answer, the reality of my departure could be delayed.
It didn't matter. The countdown was not tied to his answer.
I brought up my internal system interface.
[World Analysis: Pseudo-Rasiel... 99.4%]
The analysis was nearly complete. Soon, my database would contain the fundamental magical blueprint of this entire universe. Past, present, and future, every spell would be mine.
Once it reached 100%, I had no further reason to remain. This slow journey to the Elven Village was merely a way to pass the time until the download finished. It was a final, quiet stroll before the end.
…
The Future Timeline:-
SKREEEEEEEEONGK!!!
A roar of agony, laced with disbelief, echoed across the shattered crater.
The Blazing Black Dragon, its dark scales cracked and bleeding, its elemental aura completely destabilized, finally collapsed. The massive beast hit the frozen ground with an earth-shaking thud, lowering its proud, crowned head in absolute defeat.
It dissolved into a cloud of golden data particles, leaving the exhausted mages standing victorious in the ruins of the arena.
They had done it.
Using the data gathered from the sacrifices of the second run, Frieren had orchestrated a flawless counter-offensive. When the dragon shifted to fire, they countered with overwhelming ice. When it shifted to ice, they countered with fire. They exploited the brief moments of vulnerability during its elemental transitions, pouring every ounce of their mana into those narrow windows.
From my hidden vantage point, I recorded the final moments of the battle.
Analysis: Coordination, 85%. Resource management, 90%. Tactical adaptability, 100%.
It wasn't a perfect battle, but it was an excellent one. They had performed exactly within my calculated parameters.
…
The Magic City:-
"The results for the third phase are in," Serie murmured, looking down from her balcony at the streets below. "A 100% pass rate?"
Down in the city squares, the surviving candidates were celebrating. They looked battered, exhausted, and deeply traumatized, but they were smiling.
Serie turned her golden eyes toward the violet-haired clone standing quietly behind her.
When Stell had first submitted the parameters for her exam, Serie had genuinely expected a total wipeout. The Blazing Black Dragon was a calamity. Even with a mechanical weakness, it was a monster that usually required an army to defeat.
Serie had suspected that Stell, knowing her apprentice Frieren was among the candidates, had intentionally spiked the difficulty. After all, if the stories about Takson's hellish training were even half-true, Stell's idea of "tough love" was downright lethal.
"Did you honestly expect them all to survive?" Serie asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in her voice.
"Affirmative," the clone replied, its voice perfectly flat.
….
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