Chapter 403: If It Has Come to This, Let's Eat
In the afternoon, Solifra finished her administrative rounds and stopped by Aura's room. The door stood ajar; Aura was pressed against the windowsill, gazing out at the horizon. Hearing the footsteps, she spun around.
"Solifra!" she chirped.
Solifra stepped inside. "What are you doing?"
"Looking at the view," Aura said, gesturing toward the glass. "From up here, you can see the entire city."
Solifra walked to her side, watching the sprawling Imperial Capital below. "When I first arrived, I did the same. I would stare for hours."
"You did?"
"Yes," Solifra nodded. "I was curious. What was the world outside like? Would I ever get a chance to see it?"
Aura blinked. "Can you leave now?"
"I can," Solifra replied. "But there is no longer any need."
Aura stared at her, then asked the question lingering in her throat: "Have you ever thought about leaving? After all, you are…" She didn't finish, but the implication hung heavy in the air.
Solifra didn't hesitate. She shook her head. "No."
"Why?"
"Because this is my home."
Aura fell silent. Home.
The word felt alien. It wasn't that she didn't understand the concept, but for her, it had never existed. She had been a nomad from birth, drifting from one shadow to the next, never settling long enough to leave a mark. But now…
She looked around the small, sterile room, then at the sprawling, foreign landscape outside, and finally at Solifra—her own kind.
Perhaps… could this be my home, too? If I were to become like her?
"Solifra," Aura said slowly.
"Yes?"
"I… I want to stay, too. To stay here forever."
Solifra looked at her, a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. "Then stay. Live well, do your work, and one day, this place will become your home as well."
Aura nodded vigorously. A flutter of nervous energy rose in her chest—not the icy grip of terror, but something else entirely.
As night fell, the Association's middle levels grew quiet, but the upper sanctum hummed with a different kind of life.
Frieren had just returned from the library, cradling a stack of grimoires she'd excavated from the shelves. She ran into Solifra in the hallway.
"How is your recovery, Frieren-sama?" Solifra asked.
Truth be told, the relationship between Frieren and Solifra was… cool. When Flamme had been alive, she had acted as the buffer, preventing any overt hostility from Frieren. After Flamme's passing, Frieren had wandered for five centuries, missing the years of Solifra's evolution. For an elf, five centuries was hardly enough time to build a genuine emotional bond—that required something deeper, something akin to the ties Frieren shared with Flamme or Rhodes.
Frieren nodded, giving the demoness a cursory glance. "Rhodes-sama's healing was complete. How is Aura?"
Frieren didn't dislike Solifra, but she didn't exactly "like" her either. Still, Solifra occupied a higher rung on her personal hierarchy than Aura—that was undeniable. She asked about Aura out of pure, pragmatic curiosity: could the girl adapt? Aura was no Solifra; she didn't have five hundred years of seasoning in the Association's halls.
"She is well. She walked the floor this morning, but otherwise has been resting in her room."
"I see. Her movement is restricted. That is good," Frieren muttered. She paused, then asked, "The Obedience Magic—when did Serie-sensei say she would transfer it?"
Solifra shook her head. "Serie-sama said she wants to study it for a few more days. There is no rush."
"Hmm." Frieren paused, then said, "Solifra."
"Yes?"
"The way you look after her… it reminds me of how Flamme-sensei used to look after you."
Frieren's mind drifted to the past. When Solifra had first been brought to the Association, Serie had been repulsed, leaving Rhodes to deal with her. But Rhodes was obsessed with unlocking the secrets of true immortality, leaving him little time to train a young demon. In those early years, it had been Flamme who had taken Solifra under her wing.
Seeing Solifra now, so utterly changed from the creature of five hundred years ago, Frieren was struck by a sharp pang of longing for her teacher. For an elf, "waiting" was a trivial cost. She had waited five hundred years; she would wait five thousand more if it meant seeing Flamme again.
Before Solifra could reply, Frieren walked on, vanishing into the gloom of the corridor.
Solifra stood still, the memory washing over her. It's true. Flamme had been the same. Flamme, who had loathed demons with every fiber of her being, had nonetheless stepped forward to nurture her, all for the sake of that "future" Rhodes spoke of. She, too, was a benefactor. She had taught Solifra how to view this place as a home. Now, the mantle had passed to her.
At dinner time, the small parlor at the top of the tower grew uncharacteristically lively.
Rhodes had dragged a massive table from the storeroom to seat everyone. Rhodes and Serie sat together; Frieren was opposite them; Solifra sat beside her; and Aura was shoehorned into the seat next to Solifra.
Aura sat in rigid, agonizing silence, eyes glued to her plate. She could feel Serie's gaze flickering over her like a knife, but she lacked the courage to look up.
"Aura," Serie said, setting down her cutlery.
Aura jumped, her head snapping up into a desperate, placating grin. "Yes!"
Serie studied her, her expression unreadable. "I have been researching your Obedience Magic these past two days. Once I've finished, I will transfer the control to myself. I shall be your new master."
Aura nodded frantically. "Understood! I am honored!"
Serie tilted her head. "Any objections?"
Aura shook her head so hard she nearly fell off her chair. "None! It would be a privilege to serve you, Serie-sama!"
Her smile was a gruesome rictus of terror, but no one seemed to mind. For a demon entering the Association with such a bizarre, singular status, starting as a servant was the best-case scenario. In truth, the first demon to ever step foot in this Association had been executed and buried in an unmarked grave, but that was a secret known only to Rhodes, Serie, and the slumbering Flamme.
Serie found her terror somewhat amusing. "Relax. I'm not going to eat you."
Right. She usually just kills them without the eating part.
Aura kept that thought buried deep. Solifra nudged her arm gently. "Eat."
Aura complied, stealing one last look at Serie. The Saint was whispering something to Rhodes, her face softened by a gentle, lovely smile—she looked so warm, so human. It was a jarring contrast to the predator who had pinned Aura to the floor with raw killing intent just yesterday.
Aura lowered her head and kept eating.
Perhaps… I really can stay.
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