The sun dipped low, spilling gold across the beach.
Frieren stared at the small girl, her face unreadable.
Kraft, from the other side, rubbed his head in nervousness.
Frieren stepped toward the girl with slow, deliberate steps.
A long moment stretched out between them, silent and heavy.
"You're good at hiding your magic… interesting," Frieren said.
"But why are you doing this?"
The little girl didn't move, but her fingers tightened around something hidden behind her back.
Kraft swallowed hard, glancing between them as if expecting something to explode.
Skilled at masking magic, huh… even Fern struggled with this kind of concealment, Frieren thought.
Frieren's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a quiet glimmer passing through them.
"What makes you so proud, tossing your magic around like that?" the girl said, jabbing her finger toward Frieren.
"I don't care if you are a magical creature or not…"
"Tossing my magic?...." Frieren exhaled softly, eyes falling shut.
Frieren looked at her glowing staff, then at her team again.
"Maybe you're right… this isn't the place for magic, especially not in a simple hand game."
The girl's stance shifted, small, tense, almost defiant.
"I don't care what kind of creature you are."
"If I had just told Frieren earlier…" Kraft muttered, instinctively taking half a step back, though neither of them seemed to notice.
Frieren tilted her head, studying the girl.
"I hate you, I hate Uncle Kraft, and I hate this place!" the girl shouted.
Her voice cracked mid-sentence, raw and trembling.
As she rushed off, tears glimmering in the sunset.
Huh? Frieren thought as she watched the girl vanish from sight,
then she looked back at Kraft.
"Heheh…" Kraft let out a nervous laugh.
Kraft's shoulders slumped, guilt flickering across his face.
Frieren's grip on her staff eased, as if choosing not to prepare any spell.
Then the staff dissolved, leaving only a faint pink shimmer.
Her eyes lingered on the pink glimmer a moment longer before fading into determination.
Frieren let out a soft sigh as she stared at her teammates,
then stood up immediately before looking at Kraft.
"Let's play… just one more." she said.
"A… uh… right," Kraft said as he held the ball, his tone carrying a knowing edge.
"Ready, Frieren? This round settles everything!" Kraft shouted, gripping the ball.
Frieren nodded as she tightened her fists, copying the stance she'd seen the players use.
The teams spread out, sand shifting beneath their feet like restless waves.
Frieren took a steady breath, treating the match with the seriousness of an ancient ritual.
Once Kraft jumped into the air, he held the ball instead of hitting it,
then threw it softly to the ground.
Frieren and her teammates rushed toward it.
When Frieren leapt to reach the ball, she landed on her stomach instead.
She hit the ground before the ball reached her side, and the ball bounced forward and tapped her head with a soft thud.
A tiny puff of sand rose from the impact, floating like golden dust in the sunset.
Someone gasped softly, unsure whether to laugh or rush over.
She exhaled softly into the sand, her breath sinking into the trembling grains.
The woman holding the scoreboard looked confused.
Frieren's team: 2
Kraft's team: 3
Kraft's team stared at Frieren lying on the ground, unmoving, unsure whether they should cheer or not.
Kraft approached Frieren, offering her a hand.
"Good game, Frieren."
"Life without magic… is hard…" she mumbled into the sand.
As the match ended, night swept gently over the court, the last traces of sunlight fading into quiet blue.