Frieren: Serie's Apprentice

By evening, the golden hues of sunset painted the sky like an oil painting.

Gut glanced at the darkening sky outside the window, then picked up a metal bookmark and clipped it to the second half of the magical tome before closing it.

Per their agreement, it was time to wake up his teacher, who was catching some additional sleep.

Grabbing his coat from the rack and draping it over himself, Gut stepped out of his room and headed to Serie's door.

This time, however, he didn't bother trying to wake her up the usual way.

Instead, he reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a key, and quietly unlocked the door to enter.

"Mm…"

Serie murmured faintly on the bed, her golden eyes opening for a moment.

But upon sensing the familiar magical presence of her disciple, she simply turned over and went back to sleep.

Seeing the blanket that had been kicked several meters away, Gut shook his head with a helpless smile.

He sighed at his teacher's terrible sleeping posture, then bent down to pick up the discarded blanket. After patting off the dust, he replaced it with a clean one and gently covered her.

"Mm~"

Pleased, Serie nodded in satisfaction and hugged the soft, fluffy blanket tighter, happily clinging to the bed.

Seeing this, Gut didn't rush. He walked over to the window, gently pulled open the curtain, letting the soft glow of the setting sun fill the room.

He then sat down at the desk, picked up the pen and paper his teacher had used, and began jotting down notes.

Earlier that morning, Gut had eaten an enhanced Memory Bread.

Though he didn't have the magical tome with him now, and thus couldn't continue forward with his studies, familiarizing himself with the knowledge he had "crammed" was still worthwhile.

Besides, he had arrived a bit early.

Serie had specifically said to wake her in the evening, and technically, it was still dusk—the last trace of sunset remained.

And so, more time passed.

Wrapped in a soft, fluffy blanket, and lulled by the gentle scratching of her disciple's pen, Serie enjoyed yet another peaceful nap.

Until the sun finally dipped below the horizon and the sky filled with stars.

Even before her disciple came to wake her, Serie awoke on her own.

Yaaawn—

Stretching long and lazily, the elf twitched her pillow-squashed ears a few times.

Slipping into her slippers, she approached Gut, who was seated at the desk.

With a glance at the notes in his hand, Serie nodded with approval.

"Not bad. That's the kind of diligence that suits your talent."

She pulled the most recent sheet from beneath Gut's pen and skimmed it.

Even Serie couldn't help raising an eyebrow at what she saw—the rate at which Gut was progressing was astounding.

At this pace, the Introduction to Counter-Curse Magic, which would take an average mage ten years to learn, might take her disciple not even three months—let alone the three years they'd planned.

His talent was so freakish even Serie struggled to comprehend it.

Surely no one could enlighten themselves this consistently every day?

Despite the flood of questions in her mind, now wasn't the time to dwell on them.

Rubbing her growling stomach, Serie shooed her disciple out of the room.

She then changed out of her sleepwear and into loose casual clothes, did a quick wash-up, and left the room as well.

Night in Strahl, the Holy Capital

As a major city adjacent to the Royal Capital, Strahl's nightlife was just as vibrant as any metropolis. Being a religious center didn't mean its citizens were bound by strict moral codes.

At least up to now, Gut had never seen any Goddess Worshippers enforce their faith's rules on others.

In fact, he'd seen more rule-breaking clergy than pious ones.

Back in the early days after his transmigration, Gut had lived in remote and sparsely populated monasteries or deserted abbeys.

In those places, he often stumbled upon some… unusual scenes.

Some monks snuck off with lovers to fulfill certain desires.

Others—like one elderly priest highly respected in town—would sneak into an abandoned abbey just to light a few cigarettes and down a bottle of strong liquor.

Gut once watched this old priest take a long drag, finishing nearly half a cigarette in one go, before chasing it with a big swig of booze. The priest then confessed to the Goddess dangling from his neck and passed out snoring on the bench.

There were a few more such cases, but none particularly heinous.

At least they were miles better than those priests from his past life who preyed on young boys.

Serie expertly led Gut through several districts until they reached a bustling boulevard.

This was one of the Holy Capital's most beloved night markets.

If one sought food that best represented the local flavor and innovation of Strahl, this was the place.

Having slept all day, the hungry Serie picked out a variety of fresh and novel street foods to try.

To someone who had lived for countless years like her, the ever-evolving tastes of the people were far more appealing than the rigid traditions of court cuisine.

After a full meal, Gut wiped his mouth and noticed Serie heading in a direction opposite from their inn.

"Teacher, this isn't the way back. Do you have another plan for tonight?"

"Of course," Serie replied. "Do you think I reminded you to wake me up just for a bite to eat?"

"Uh…" Gut hesitated, choosing not to argue.

So the master and disciple strolled leisurely through the streets until they neared the grand domed Sanctum.

Finally, Serie stopped before a brand-new, imposing building.

While it didn't surpass the Sanctum in height—out of respect—it rivaled, perhaps even surpassed, it in grandeur.

Securing such a vast plot of land in the prestigious city center of Strahl spoke volumes in itself.

"Gut, what do you think of this building?"

"You want my opinion?" Gut paused, then answered.

"It's awe-inspiring. The architecture and layout are likely the most this sacred capital would ever permit."

"Correct." Serie smiled faintly, looking up at the structure.

"This... is the Headquarters of the Continental Magic Association."

Meanwhile—

On the border of the Northern Nations Empire, peace reigned.

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Powerstones?

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