Starting with Frieren

"It's real!"

After using every method he could think of to confirm this wasn't a dream, Ivan finally accepted reality.

Nearby, Flamme couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from curving up, while Frieren remained as calm as ever.

"So, what kind of grimoire was inside the chest?"

"Doesn't seem to have much of a practical use." Frieren crafted a simple fishing rod out of a bamboo stick, a strand of hair, and a small tree branch, then walked to the lake to fish.

Within five seconds, a fish bit the hook—despite there being nothing on it!

"Gotcha."

With a sharp tug, Frieren pulled a shimmering silver fish, roughly ten pounds in weight, onto the shore.

"This is the magic recorded in the chest. It makes whatever it's attached to irresistibly attractive to aquatic creatures. Doesn't seem all that useful..." Frieren remarked indifferently.

Ivan, however, looked ready to jump out of his skin with excitement. His eyes sparkled as he ran up to her.

"What?! This is the legendary magic that transforms you into the ultimate fishing master—Frieren, no, Master Frieren! Teach me this magic! I beg you; this is the wish of my entire lifetime!"

"?" Frieren tilted her head, puzzled, and glanced at the fish flopping on the ground.

Was this kind of food-supplementing magic really that important?

Meanwhile, Flamme, who had been quietly watching the spectacle, suddenly grew irritated. After all, Ivan had never once addressed her as "Master," yet here he was, bestowing this honor on a young elf he had met less than a day ago. Jealousy surged through her.

She grumbled internally, I've just accepted a talented young elf disciple, and I finally drew a grimoire from the chest. Two joyous occasions, yet somehow, it's come to this?

"Ivan, instead of that slow, tedious fishing magic, my explosive magic can blast all the fish in the lake to the surface. You should be learning something efficient like that!"

"Huh? Who are you, random magical old lady? I don't know you," Ivan immediately retorted, pretending not to recognize her. "Please don't contact me again. I'm afraid Master Frieren might misunderstand. And blowing up fish? That's the ultimate insult to true anglers. Don't ever mention that in front of me again."

"Oh? Such a swift denial," Flamme said with a cold sneer. "But Ivan, you might have overlooked one very important fact. I am Frieren's master. Do you think my obedient and well-mannered disciple Frieren would rebel like a certain wayward apprentice?"

Flamme's tone turned icy.

"Frieren, you are not allowed to teach Ivan that fishing magic without my permission."

Frieren immediately nodded. "Understood."

Ivan's smug expression crumbled, his eyes widening. "Eh?! Seriously?"

"Sorry, Ivan. I can't teach you this magic."

"Wait, wait! I may have said some things earlier that I shouldn't have, but I wasn't fully awake!"

With a forced smile, Ivan sidled up to Flamme, trying to curry favor.

"It was all a misunderstanding, just a joke, really~"

He began massaging her shoulders and even kneeling to help soothe her frustration. In the end, he managed to coax Flamme back into good spirits, earning the right to learn the magic that would make him the ultimate fishing master.

"Is this magic... really that important?" Frieren asked as she taught him the spell.

"Of course," Ivan replied with certainty, gazing earnestly at her expressionless face and confused, wandering eyes.

"There's no such thing as useless magic—only mages who don't know how to use it. One day, this seemingly impractical magic might just save the world. And even if it doesn't, it brings me joy. So... thank you, Frieren, for discovering such an incredible magic from the chest."

As he spoke, Ivan smiled naturally. While it couldn't be described as overwhelmingly stunning, his smile did seem to make the already radiant sunlight shine just a little brighter.

"So that's how it is..." Frieren murmured thoughtfully.

---

"Ahh! I caught one! I caught one! A fish—a ten-pound fish! Not a shoe, bottle, or old sock, but a real fish—my first catch in my entire life!"

Long an unlucky angler, Ivan cried tears of joy, casting his line again and again until his mana was utterly depleted.

That night's dinner was a feast of grilled fish: silverfish, swordfish, dragonfish... Because the magic cast on the fishing hook affected all the fish in the lake, only the fastest and strongest ones were caught. Their meat was particularly tender and firm.

One person hiking through mountains is survival. Two people is camping. But with three, it becomes a picnic outing.

Though the journey itself hadn't changed, having more companions made it significantly more enjoyable—like the difference between solo queueing and a five-man team in LoL.

Frieren's opinion of Ivan quickly rose, from tolerating him as an acquaintance to trusting him as a companion.

--

A week later, the trio finally reached their destination—a massive, ancient elven tree that served as the residence of Flamme's teacher, Serie.

"Serie, the most magical person alive from the Age of Myth, who is said to be closest to a goddess... What kind of person is she?" Ivan asked, taking in the enormous tree. "Anything I should be careful about?"

"Teacher is very easygoing and pure. Her love for magic is unparalleled," Flamme replied, her expression softening as fond memories surfaced.

"Still, don't forget your manners. Even though she's approachable, she's also a great mage and should be treated with respect. Frieren, I'm not worried about you, but Ivan—don't mess up, understood?"

"Got it."

Inside, the tree was a maze of intricate passages guarded by plant golems of impressive magical strength. Each golem's mana was roughly ten times that of Ivan's. However, with Flamme leading the way, the golems stayed still.

"We're here."

Flamme pushed open a door carved with ancient patterns, revealing the tree's central chamber—spacious and awe-inspiring.

Golden reliefs lined the walls, telling ancient and mysterious stories. Complex murals danced in the shifting light, while a massive crystal chandelier bathed the room in a warm, gentle glow. Towering bookshelves filled with grimoires dominated the space.

Seated on a grand throne above the ocean of books was a petite, golden-haired elf who slowly opened her eyes as Ivan stared in awe.

"You've finally arrived, undead from another world."