Chapter 74 — Seven Hired Thugs
Seeing the silver medal gleaming on Elias's chest, Leiya nodded in quiet satisfaction.
"Very well, Elias," she said calmly.
"From the moment you accepted this medal, you are now a member of the Cole family. From this day forward, my safety rests entirely in your hands."
Elias met her gaze without the slightest ripple of emotion, his eyes sharp and probing.
Strangely enough…
She was still smiling—serene, composed, almost relieved.
There was no surprise in her expression.
No hesitation.
No trace of unease.
That alone felt wrong.
Shouldn't she be reacting differently right now?
For a fleeting instant, a thought crossed his mind—
Is my perception being distorted by mental interference?
He dismissed it immediately.
His Mind-Sealing Technique had already endured the trial of Guide to Paradise Magic.
There was no reason it would falter now.
Then perhaps…
The thing hiding inside that empty shell was simply continuing its habitual performance—
the art of demonic masquerade.
Still, under the blade-like scrutiny of Elias's gaze, how long could such an act truly last?
Perhaps the mastermind behind this scheme had never anticipated it—
That the carefully selected "guardian" would turn out to be someone as monstrously powerful as Elias.
"HAHAHA! Everyone!!"
Theodore's booming laughter snapped the crowd out of the solemnity of the ceremony.
"I hereby declare—
The ball officially begins!"
As Elias returned to the others, Frieren immediately noticed something was wrong.
Flamme's expression had changed.
It was the same look she'd worn back during Peach Blossom Spring—
twisted with frustration, anger, bitterness… and helplessness.
For some reason, her teacher always reacted this way whenever Elias was involved.
The moment their eyes met, Frieren felt certain.
(งᵒ̌皿ᵒ̌)ง ….. (≖_≖'')
"Elias!" Flamme hissed.
"Did you find that amusing? Just now I almost—!!"
"I saw it," Elias replied calmly.
"That look you had—on the verge of losing your mind."
Then, without warning, a faint curve appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Tell me," he asked lightly,
"what emotion was that, exactly?"
"…Could it be what people call worry?"
"Don't talk nonsense!"
Flamme snapped, her voice sharp with fury.
"Who would worry about you?!"
"A reckless, overconfident demon—magic user like you deserves whatever happens!"
"What I was worried about," she continued coldly,
"was that if you lost control, everyone in this manor would be buried alongside you!"
Elias scratched his head casually.
"Sigh… in the end, you just don't trust me enough."
"Not me—and not my magic."
"That's not my fault," Flamme said quietly.
She took a deep breath, her eyes following Leiya's retreating figure up the stairs.
"Elias, you need to understand…"
"This time, our enemy isn't the Crystal Turtle."
"It's one of the Demon King's direct subordinates—
the Seven Sages of Destruction."
Seeing the gravity in her eyes, Elias responded with utter disdain.
"Heh. The Seven Sages, huh…"
"If Ende, that little brat, showed up in person,
I might give him a bit of respect."
"But the seven thugs under his command?"
Elias sneered.
"Do you really think I'd take them seriously?"
The arrogance in his words was absolute.
Flamme felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her.
Those were the Seven Sages—
each one capable of standing against an entire army.
And yet, in Elias's mouth, they were reduced to—
Seven hired thugs.
As Flamme struggled to process that thought, music began to cascade down from the star-lit ceiling.
And then—
At the worst possible moment—
That utterly tactless man extended his hand toward her.
"Flamme," Elias said calmly,
"it's time to dance."
"Ah… Elias…"
Her voice faltered.
Flamme did not take his hand.
Instead, she looked straight at him—eyes tired, but unwaveringly serious.
"Before we dance, there are a few things I need to make absolutely clear."
"The fact that Grausam of the Seven Sages of Destruction has infiltrated the military is no longer in doubt."
"His mental magic is something even other demons fear."
"As his assigned personal guard, you have already become a target of his Guide to Paradise."
"Even though he failed this time, as long as he has that empty vessel, he has all the time and opportunities he needs."
"And you—"
"Not only are you unable to harm him, but you are also obligated to protect his safety."
"In this situation… you must—"
"—That's enough, Flamme."
Elias suddenly reached out and took her hand.
Her pupils trembled.
"You may not trust me," he said calmly,
"but surely you trust the old dwarf—and her instincts."
"She went to great lengths to send me here. She must have had her reasons."
"So there's no need to panic."
"Everything is still within her control."
Whether it was the music,
or the way Elias had softened his voice,
or the quiet reassurance of Seirie's foresight—
Flamme's turbulent gaze finally settled.
She met his eyes.
"Elias…"
"—Any other instructions?"
"…Don't step on my feet."
---
The music flowed gently.
Lights swayed like fireflies.
Black and deep teal figures moved across the dance floor like fish shadows gliding through water.
They were clumsy—
but several songs passed without a single foot being stepped on.
Flamme felt quietly relieved.
It seemed last night's crash-course practice had paid off.
"Elias," she said softly,
"don't you think… we're actually kind of talented?"
"Of course," Elias replied.
"Dancing and combat share fundamental principles."
"…Could you not ruin the moment?"
Flamme closed her eyes and muttered,
"That just reminds me of your 'Prevent Stepping on Feet While Dancing' spell."
"To be honest," Elias said seriously,
"I have zero doubts about that spell's practical value."
"…Enough," Flamme sighed.
"Talking about this only gives me a headache. Elias, just—let me have one tolerable night."
---
While the two of them danced, Frieren cleared three entire plates of food.
Satisfied, she rubbed her stomach and looked up—
Red.
Blue.
Yellow.
…Oh?
This might actually work.
---
The moon hung high. Midnight passed.
As the final song ended, Flamme forgot to let go of Elias's hand.
It wasn't until he looked at her with mild confusion and reminded her quietly—
"Flamme. It's over."
She jolted and immediately pulled her hands back, clasping them behind her.
A faint flush spread across her face.
"Hm? What's wrong with your face?" Elias asked.
"Huh? Is it red?"
"That must be because—"
Her eyes stiffened.
"It's hot!"
"Yes, that's it—dancing this long is exhausting and hot! I—I need some water!"
She hurried to the table and gulped down an entire glass.
Then she noticed—
Red.
Blue.
Yellow.
…and white, right in the middle.
"Frieren… what are you all—"
Frieren stood proudly before her, flanked by the three noble girls.
"Teacher Flamme! They agreed to let me stay overnight at the manor!"
Behind her, Zannie, Yuna, and Camilla nodded enthusiastically.
"That's right!"
"We'll cover Frieren's expenses together!"
"She can stay as long as she wants!"
At that moment, a dark figure silently appeared behind them.
"Heh… Frieren."
"So this was your plan?"
"You're like sticky tar—no matter how hard you try, you just won't come off."
"—Sticky tar?"
"What's that?"
Frieren lifted her chin triumphantly.
"Anyway—"
"I'm staying in this manor. No matter what!"
---