Chapter 209: Throwing the Bouquet
"Throw it to me!"
"Over here! Over here!"
Under countless expectant gazes, the bride turned her back to the crowd and forcefully tossed the bouquet in her hand backward.
The bouquet arced gracefully through the air, carrying everyone's blessings and expectations as it flew toward the back of the crowd.
The bouquet was falling quickly, seemingly about to land in the hands of a girl in the crowd.
Just then, Kurtz's fingers, wrapped around Serie's waist, moved slightly.
There was no incantation, no flash of magic, only a subtle ripple.
Just as the bouquet was about to fall, an extremely delicate breeze brushed the bottom of it, as if it were gently nudged by an invisible hand, causing its trajectory to shift slightly.
It avoided all outstretched arms, soared over the heads of the dense crowd, seemingly guided by the hand of fate, and flew towards the edge of the crowd—towards the blonde elf who had no interest in this scramble.
Serie was frowning slightly, watching what she considered a somewhat childish farce, with a hint of disdain in her eyes.
Suddenly, a patch of pure white entered her vision.
She instinctively raised her hand.
Plop.
The pure white bouquet, symbolizing happiness and blessings, landed squarely and steadily in her arms.
The bustling noise in the square quieted for a moment, and countless gazes converged on her.
In their eyes, she was a serene, golden-haired elf, like a moonlight goddess, who had been quietly standing at the edge of the crowd.
How could it be her?
Everyone was a little surprised.
Even Serie herself was stunned.
She lowered her head, looking at the sudden, faintly fragrant bouquet in her arms, feeling a bit at a loss.
This feeling surprised her even more than Kurtz's teasing just now, especially after he explained the meaning of the bouquet.
She looked up at Kurtz beside her, trying to find a solution.
Kurtz wore an expression as if he knew absolutely nothing, even clapping like those around him, but a deep, uncontainable smile played at the corner of his mouth.
"See? This is the will of the gods!"
Hearing Kurtz's obviously fabricated words and seeing the smile at the corner of his mouth, Serie instantly understood.
What will of the gods!
Bah!
It was clearly this man's doing.
That faint magical fluctuation from him just now might deceive others, but how could it deceive her?
A warmth once again uncontrollably rushed to her cheeks.
This time, it was purely out of anger.
Serie was both embarrassed and annoyed; she really wanted to smash this bouquet directly into this human's face.
However, the countless gazes focused on her, as well as the joyful gaze of the bride who had just thrown the bouquet and was looking over, made her forcefully suppress this impulse.
She, Serie, hailed as the strongest mage of modern times, couldn't possibly act impulsively over a bouquet, could she? If that got out, it would be too embarrassing.
She took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the shame and annoyance in her heart.
Then, expressionlessly, and even with a hint of disdain, she held the bouquet in her arms a little further away, as if it were a hot potato.
The surrounding crowd reacted then, erupting in even more enthusiastic cheers.
"Congratulations!"
"You must be happy!"
Hearing these words of blessing, Serie felt her cheeks grow even hotter.
Kurtz looked at Serie's feigned composure, trying his best to hold back from laughing out loud, lest she truly lash out in embarrassment and anger and punch him.
He reached out and took the bouquet from Serie's hand.
"It seems," Kurtz's voice, laced with amusement, sounded in Serie's ear, audible only to her, "even the goddess thinks our joke just now was a good suggestion?"
He lowered his head to sniff the flowers, a subtle, inexplicable meaning in his gaze towards Serie.
Serie glared fiercely at him, her voice also audible only to the two of them. "I'll settle accounts with you later!"
She ultimately didn't snatch the flower back to smash it. After speaking, she pouted and turned her face away, no longer looking at Kurtz's smug expression.
However, the bouquet held in Kurtz's hand was like a silent brand, deeply engraving the various emotions witnessed today, along with the aura of the man beside her, into her heart.
The clamor of the crowd gradually faded, and the newlyweds had already departed, leaving only Kurtz and Serie.
"Let's go," he said softly. "Find a quiet place to figure out what to do with this? Or perhaps find a vase to keep it?"
Serie didn't answer, but simply nudged him gently with her elbow, not with much force, but expressing a silent protest.
She didn't break free from his embrace, letting him lead her and holding the unexpectedly acquired "happiness" as they left the square.
....
Meanwhile, in the northwest direction of the continent, a place beyond the reach of both the Elf Kingdom and the human kingdoms.
Although this area was not as prosperous as other regions due to being occupied by the Demon King's army a thousand years ago, many races still lived here.
At the same time, this was also the direction Flamme and Ayla chose for their adventure.
In a vast wilderness, Flamme tightened her travel cloak and squinted into the distance at the undulating mountains.
Ayla stood beside her, her eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.
The number of monsters in this direction was clearly greater than in other regions; she and Flamme had encountered many monsters along the way, and even encountered a demon once.
However, that time the opponent did not engage them in battle; they merely exchanged glances from a distance before fleeing.
Several months had passed since they received Teacher Kurtz's warning letter.
They continued to move closer to the extreme north as planned, diligently searching for news of elf villages along the way.
However, their efforts remained futile.
Even when they visited several human villages, the clues they gathered about nearby elf settlements ultimately pointed to perplexing emptiness.
"Sister Ayla, still no sense of any elf presence?" Flamme's voice carried a hint of imperceptible weariness.
She had just received news from an old dwarf that there used to be a small elf village on the shaded side of the valley past the mountain ahead, and he had visited it a few times when he was young.
However, when they arrived, it was still nothingness.
Ayla closed her eyes in concentration for a moment, her pointed ears twitching slightly. A few seconds later, she opened her eyes and shook her head.
"No. Only the scent of rock and sand, no signs of life or magic, just like the previous villages."
Flamme's heart sank.
Another elf village had vanished from their information, as if it had never existed.
"When are we going to find anything?" She clenched her fists in frustration, facing another dead end.
[End of Chapter]
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