Archive of Our Own

How would you feel if the true feelings buried deep within your heart were suddenly shaken...?

And for whose sake would it be...?

-----

The wind of the Northern Plateau was biting, stripping all warmth from the earth.

A nameless ancient ruin. Amidst its oppressive silence, Genau let out a quiet breath. Spread out before him were the stone remains of what must have once been a massive temple. Rows of towering stone pillars pointed toward the heavens like broken fingers.

"Methode. Shall we begin?"
"Yes. Please leave the perimeter watch to me."

The voice calling from behind him carried a warmth that felt out of place in this harsh land. Without turning around, he could tell from her presence that she had moved to cover his blind spots.

Genau held a freezing hand out toward the ruin, unleashing streams of intricately woven mana from his palm. Invisible lines of force crawled around the perimeter. Tracing the formulas of the ancient barrier, he overwrote it, reinforcing its strength. It was the flawless, precise work of a First-Class Mage, permitting not even the slightest stagnation of mana.

"That should do it."

With a brief exhale, Genau lowered his arm.

"Still... what exactly is this ruin? They said it's been here since antiquity, but..."
"According to the village chief, the details of its origins seem to have been lost..."

Methode walked over, standing beside Genau to look up at the ruins. Her profile bore the distinct sharpness of a mage—a blend of deep curiosity and quiet vigilance.

"But the mana imbued here is substantial. Especially in that monument..."

Beside the altar stood a single, moss-covered stone slab. In stark contrast to the towering remains of the pillars, the slab only reached a grown man's waist. The characters on its surface were weathered, and the carved magic circle barely retained its outline.

Yet, a heavy, damp mana seeped from it relentlessly.

"...To anchor this much mana in such a small vessel for centuries... one can feel the caster's sheer obsession," Methode observed. Her voice held a mix of respect and unfathomable dread. "However, considering it has stood for hundreds of years without causing any harm, reinforcing the barrier and leaving it sealed truly is the best course of action."

Genau gave a deep nod in agreement. For a simple barrier renewal mission, the target was far too eerie. But uncovering the abyss of the unknown was not always the right answer.

"If we wanted to investigate this properly, we'd need to dedicate a significant number of personnel."
"Indeed."

As their practical conversation trailed off, the tense air enveloping the ruins softly eased. Methode shifted her gaze to Genau. With her flaxen hair swaying in the wind, she offered a gentle smile.

"First of all, excellent work, Genau-san."
"It wasn't anything major. Just a routine barrier renewal."
"Even so, continuously kneading mana without rest is exhausting."

Wrapping his humble words in a soft tone, she leaned in slightly and narrowed her eyes.

"Once we return to the village, I'll brew you some warm tea."

At the sight of her soft chuckle, a faint warmth slowly spread deep within Genau's chest.

A few months ago. Ever since he had pressed a kiss to her forehead, the smiles she directed at him had become terribly defenseless, carrying a sweet undertone. And Genau himself had found that, rather than pushing her affections away, he could accept them quite naturally. He could feel his facial muscles, often described as being made of iron, slowly loosening.

"...Right. I'll leave it to you. Your tea is always good."
"Thank you."

Replying briefly, Genau also let a small smile surface. The quiet time spent with Methode waiting at the end of a mission. Just that promise made even the coldness in his fingertips feel somewhat endearing.

But. Faster than that peaceful afterglow could fully take shape.
Suddenly. Without any warning, without even a ripple of mana.

A blindingly bright, pale blue light erupted from beneath Genau's feet, shooting up toward the sky like a pillar.

"Genau-san...!"

Methode's sharp voice, bordering on a scream, tore through the frigid air.

As his vision flared white, Genau reflexively deployed a magical barrier. However, the light slipped right through it, making direct contact with his skin.

There was no heat. No impact. Just like a drop of water being absorbed into dry sand, the inexplicable band of light permeated Genau's body.

Silence returned. Only the sound of the wind sweeping through echoed, just as it had moments before.

"Genau-san! Are you alright? Are you hurt...? Is anything wrong?!"

Casting aside her usual composure completely, Methode rushed over, her face pale. Her trembling hands grabbed Genau's arm as she tried to inspect every inch of his body.

"...Calm down. I'm fine."

Genau replied in a low, steady voice, trying to soothe her panic. He stared at his own palms, checking the flow of mana within his body.

"No pain, and no abnormalities in my mana."
"I see... What in the world was that light? It clearly looked like some sort of magic..."
"Yeah. I definitely felt mana from it, but... so far, no harm done."

A slow-acting poison, perhaps, or some kind of omen? While turning his thoughts over, Genau scanned their surroundings. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to the ground at his feet.

Half-buried in the soil and rubble, a single stone tablet was exposed.

"Is this... Dwarven? No, Ancient Elven...?"

A unique design of intersecting straight lines and gentle curves was carved into the surface. He burned the pattern into his memory. At Genau's mutter, Methode also dropped her gaze to the tablet.

"Genau-san, can you read Ancient Elven?"
"No, unfortunately, my knowledge doesn't extend that far."
"I have studied it a little, but..."

Methode crouched before the tablet, tracing the sequence of characters with narrowed eyes. However, she quickly gave a small shake of her head.

"The grammar is incredibly archaic, almost like a cipher. I cannot decipher it right here and now."
"I see..."

As Genau furrowed his brow in frustration, Methode pulled a leather-bound notebook and a quill from her robes.

"I will transcribe it."

The dry sound of the pen scratching against paper began to echo. Her profile was lit with a serious intensity, determined not to miss a single stroke.

"If we bring this back to Äußerst, it might serve as some kind of clue."
"Right. I'm counting on you."

Genau nodded quietly, watching her back as she transcribed in silence.

There was nothing wrong with his body. Yet, the fact that he had been bathed in an unidentifiable magic cast a dim shadow over the warm afterglow that had filled his chest just moments before.

The northern wind merely continued to stroke the two mages with a silent, freezing caress.

-----

The Magic City of Äußerst.
In stark contrast to the piercing chill of the Northern Plateau, the stone corridors of the Continental Magic Association branch were flooded with gentle afternoon sunlight.

Having finished his post-mission paperwork, Genau was heading to his office as usual when he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

In a corner of the hallway. In the shadow of an arched pillar. There, leaning against the wall, he spotted a familiar head of grey hair.

"Sense. What are you doing in a place like this?"

At his voice, she slowly lifted her head. Her long hair, which usually drifted lethargically through the air, hung heavily and lifelessly toward the floor today. Dark, unmistakable shades of exhaustion were etched around her sleepy eyes.

"Genau..."
"Did something happen?"
"No... I don't know. I don't know, but..."

Sense let out a small sigh and slowly rolled up the sleeve of her robe.

Revealed was her pale, slender arm. Genau instinctively doubted his own eyes, his brow furrowing sharply.

Upon her snow-white skin, a bizarre, reddish-black pattern stood out clearly, resembling twisting vines. It was an ominous seal, giving the eerie illusion of a living creature writhing just beneath the surface of her skin.

"What is this? Did you do something?"
"I don't know. I have no recollection of it at all. I had Lernen look at it, but he said nothing comes to mind regarding this pattern."

Sense answered plainly, staring at her own arm with a look of distaste.

"Some kind of curse?"
"I haven't left Äußerst for the past few days. It would be different if I had been fighting demons or monsters, but that isn't the case."
"Is there pain?"
"None. However... I feel that my mana is lower than usual."

The air around Genau grew marginally more tense. For a mage, a drop in mana was a fatal anomaly directly linked to death.

"It's gradual, bit by bit. It doesn't hinder my ability to fight yet, but... if it depletes much further, it will be bad."
"...Since when?"

In Genau's mind, the gears of logic began to turn rapidly. His cold, calculating thoughts combed back through his memories, trying to scrape together the slightest of clues.

"Since two days ago. My arm suddenly grew burning hot, and this appeared."
"Two days ago?"

Genau cross-referenced it with the timeline in his own memory.

"When exactly, two days ago? Can you give me the precise time?"
"...What's with the sudden urgency?"
"Just answer."

At Genau's low, uncompromising tone, Sense blinked somewhat suspiciously and searched her memory.

"...It was past noon. Right after the clock tower bell struck two."
"What did you say...?"

It was a perfect match.
A chill ran down Genau's spine, as if stroked by a blade of ice.

It was nearly the exact same time he had finished raising the barrier at the northern ruins and had been bathed in that inexplicable pale-blue magic.

Genau stared silently at his gloved palm.

No changes had occurred in his own body. There was no stagnation in his mana.
But, if that magic had somehow etched a seal onto the arm of his colleague, far away here in Äußerst...

"What is it? Do you have some idea of what's happening, Genau?"

"I cannot say for certain if there is a direct link. However, while at the ruins in the Northern Plateau, I was struck by an inexplicable magic. The moment it happened matches the exact time the mark appeared on your arm."

"…Are you suggesting the effects of that spell leapt across the distance to me? By what possible logic…?"

"I don't know. I am simply stating that the timing is identical."

The situation was utterly baffling. Silence fell between them, heavy and cold. Why was she, miles away, suffering the consequences instead of him—the one who had actually been bathed in the light?

Sense shifted her gaze between the mark on her arm and Genau, who was lost in grim contemplation. Then, she spoke softly.

"…Are you alright?"

Despite being the one plagued by an unknown magic, her first instinct was to worry for him.

"Yeah. There has been no effect on me whatsoever."

As Genau answered, a stray lock of Sense’s grey hair extended like a living creature, drifting upward to give his broad shoulder a few light, reassuring pats.

"I see. That is a relief, at least."

"My apologies. It is likely my blunder that has caused this."

"Don’t apologize," Sense cut him off sharply. "We don't even know if they’re related yet."

In the face of an uncontrollable event, there was no point in comrades-in-arms taking the blame for one another. It was precisely because of their absolute mutual trust that there was no room for sentimental fussing between them.

"Lady Serie happens to be here today. Genau, will you come with me? Even if the connection is unproven, it’s not something we can afford to ignore."

"Of course."

When Genau gave his immediate ascent, the corners of Sense’s mouth lifted in a ghost of a relieved smile.

"Don’t look so grim. Isn’t it more unsettling to be hit by a spell and have nothing change at all?"

"What?"

"It’s better for the soul to know there’s a clear cause and effect—like this mark—rather than wondering when some invisible axe will fall. Don't you agree?"

"…Yeah. My apologies, Sense."

Even though she was effectively acting as his scapegoat, her airy, elusive attitude—trying to lighten the weight of his guilt—was as hard to pin down as ever.

Suddenly, Sense clenched her fist and tilted her head in wonder.

"What is it?"

"No, never mind… It’s just, talking to you like this, I feel as though my mana is beginning to return."

"…A coincidence, surely."

"Most likely."

The sound of their footsteps echoed in unison through the silent corridor.

-----

The office of the great mage Serie was, as always, ruled by a crushing silence and the hum of high-tension mana.

After listening to the report of the reddish-black mark on Sense’s arm and the events at the northern ruins, Serie remained slumped in her throne, resting her cheek on her hand with an expressionless gaze.

"Genau. The characters on that tablet—can you recall them?"

"Methode is handling the formal transcription, but… this is what was written."

Genau responded briefly and kindled a faint spark of mana at his fingertips. Thin lines of light traced through the air, reconstructing the complex design of the Ancient Elven script he had seen at the ruins with perfect proportions.

Watching this, Sense turned a skeptical eye toward him, as if glimpsing something unsettling.

"You memorized it?"

"I cannot read Ancient Elven… but it is simple enough to reproduce it as a geometric pattern, isn't it?"

"A freak as always, I see."

Genau ignored Sense’s dry remark. Serie looked up at the glowing characters floating in the air and gave a small, disinterested hum.

"It’s a variant of Ancient Elven. Written in a somewhat ciphered style."

"Can you decipher what it says?"

At Genau’s question, Serie lowered her eyes and read the contents with cold indifference.

"I can. To summarize… 'The contract’s mark shall be etched upon the arm of the one most deeply cherished by the one bathed in this light. The bearer of the mark shall find their mana withered should they stray from their beloved’s side. Only while the two linger close shall that mana be replenished.' …That is the gist of it."

The air in the office froze instantly.

"…Huh? 'The one most deeply cherished'…?"

A hopelessly bewildered voice escaped Genau—a man who was supposed to be a veteran mage. Beside him, Sense stood completely paralyzed, her eyes wide with shock. Serie looked between their faces with an air of mild boredom.

"If the words are true, then yes. In short: the magic that hit you fell upon Sense—the object of your affection—and her mana drains when she is away from you. When you are together, it returns. It's quite simple."

Genau understood the words perfectly. He understood the mechanics of the spell. But he could not—would not—accept the premise.

"I… I understand the second half, but… the object of my affection? Sense is?"

Genau stared at Sense with a deep scowl, as if looking at something utterly impossible. Sensing his gaze, Sense’s face twisted into an unprecedented expression of profound displeasure.

"Hey. If you’re going to look that disgusted, then don’t look at me at all. I’m not exactly enjoying this either."

Seeing their mutual looks of pure revulsion, Serie let out a short, sharp snort of amusement.

"Genau. Were you actually in love with Sense?"

"No, certainly not."

"And you, Sense? Genau says otherwise."

"No. Absolutely not."

"…Well, at least you’re in sync."

The two had no choice but to let the mockery of their master slide in silence. Serie sighed softly and looked at Sense’s arm.

"Sense. Is it true your mana is depleting?"

"It… yes. That is a fact. And it is also a fact that my mana returned while speaking with Genau today."

"Hmph. I see. Based on what you’ve said, it’s been about two and a half days since the spell was cast. How much has it drained?"

"Let me see… about a third of my maximum capacity."

"I see." Serie waved her hand dismissively. "Sense, I’ll assign someone else to the mission I gave you. Don’t go out into the field with your mana compromised. For the time being, you are to stay with Genau."

"Understood."

A deep, weary sigh escaped the throne.

"Honestly. Leave it to my own students to increase my paperwork with their troublesome personal lives."

"My deepest apologies…" Genau bowed low.

Serie looked away, having lost all interest.

"Whatever happens with your little romance is your business, but do not let it interfere with your duties. I’ll leave the search for a cure to the two of you."

-----

At the main entrance of the Äußerst branch, the evening wind swept coldly between the two First-Class Mages.

Genau sat on the stone steps illuminated by the setting sun, burying his face in his hands. Beside him, Sense let out a sigh that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul.

"Honestly, Genau… look at what you’ve done."

"It isn't my fault…"

"Looking at the result, it is entirely your fault."

Sense’s resentful voice burned into Genau’s stomach. But as the one who had caused the mess, Genau didn't have the energy to maintain his usual composure. He was well aware that an expression of utter despair, as if the world were ending, was plastered across his face.

"Why am I the person you 'deeply cherish'…?"

"How should I know? I don't understand it any more than you do."

When Genau replied with a surly face, Sense pouted, her expression turning stormy.

"Stop making that face. That 'I’ve never even thought of such a thing, it’s impossible' look. It’s incredibly insulting."

There was a clear edge of irritation in her half-lidded glare. Genau realized then that his current attitude—regardless of his lack of memory or intent—was essentially broadcasting 'The idea of you being my beloved is a nightmare' right to her face.

"…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I am simply… profoundly confused by a result that contradicts everything I know. I apologize."

"Apologizing so earnestly just makes me more annoyed."

"What do you want me to do then…?"

They sighed in unison. It was the kind of blunt exchange only possible between long-time associates, yet now, even that familiar distance felt difficult to navigate.

"Whatever."

Sense composed herself and began to logically sort through their reality.

"Whether you actually harbor feelings for me or not doesn't matter. The fact remains that my mana drops when I am away from you."

"Yeah."

"And it is also a fact that right now, with you close by, my mana is normal."

The twilight breeze caught Sense’s grey hair, making it flutter softly.

"So, we have to find a way to break this magic—this curse. Lady Serie said, 'when the two linger close.' That’s when the mana recovers, right? So what? Do we just need to do something… more than just 'lingering close'?"

"…Excuse me?"

At the ominous ring of her words, Genau looked up in alarm. Sense continued tonelessly, her expression unchanging.

"If your 'affection' is reciprocated or fulfilled, will the spell break?"

"…Are you telling me to confess to you?"

"I’m not. It’s just a hypothesis."

Her unapologetic delivery was entirely too brazen.

The sheer rationality of a First-Class Mage, trying to assess the situation and find the most efficient solution—he understood that much, but still.

"How do a man and a woman fulfill their mutual affections? A kiss? Or perhaps physical intimacy beyond that? Copulation?"
"Wh—"
"Penetration? Climax? If we accomplish that, will this cursed magic be broken?"

A kiss. Copulation. Penetration. Climax.
Words that an unmarried maiden ought to hesitate to even whisper were lined up one after another, tossed out with an entirely mechanical ring.

On Sense's face, there wasn't a trace of hesitation. She was merely stating facts and hypotheses with flat detachment, as if deciphering a magical formula. The rapid-fire barrage of such blunt terminology coming from someone who looked like a sheltered noblewoman made Genau's stomach ache with stress.

"…If there are potential solutions, we ought to test them. But you seem exceptionally opposed to the idea, Genau."
"…Of course I am. I have never once considered having that kind of relationship with you."

When he squeezed the words out in a low groan, Sense quietly half-closed her eyes, staring at him.

Silence fell. Only the sound of the wind slipped between them.
Amidst the suffocating awkwardness, Genau suddenly threw a question back at the woman who refused to drop her relentlessly logical facade.

"…And you? If I said we should test it… would you not be opposed?"

A brief pause.
Sense let out a tiny breath, furrowing her brow just a fraction.

"…Do you think I wouldn't be? I am."
"…Right."

Genau let out a deep, long sigh.
They seemed entirely out of sync, yet in the end, they were simply stranded in the exact same dead end. A profound sense of futility, mixed with a very slight sliver of relief, slowly dissolved into the twilight.

No matter how he looked at it, the situation was utterly hopeless.
But Genau's true despair lay in something else entirely—beyond just how to break the spell.

"So…? What are you going to say to Methode, Genau?"

Sense's sleepy voice dripped with unprecedented sympathy and exhaustion.
The moment that name was spoken, Genau's heart gave an unnatural jolt.

"Am I supposed to tell her, 'Actually, my beloved is Sense'…? I can't say that."
"Fair enough. I'd prefer not to see blood either."

Sense's floating hair drooped, seeming to lose its strength. She lowered her gaze, letting out a sigh laced with a desperation that made it clear this wasn't just someone else's problem.

"If you end up dead, I'll have no choice but to let my mana dry up…"

As long as she bore the mark, Sense could only survive off the mana supplied by Genau. If they incurred Methode's wrath and Genau was crippled beyond recovery, it meant Sense's mana would be crippled right alongside him.

"…Thinking about how my fate is hanging on your every word, I simply cannot stop sighing."
"Sigh all you want… it won't solve anything."

Genau rubbed his temples again, forced into silence beneath the crushing weight of an inescapable reality.

"Where is Methode? What is she doing now?"
"Hm? We parted ways after returning to Äußerst. She said she had somewhere to stop by…"

At Genau's words, a crease formed between Sense's brows.

"Hey… Methode transcribed the text from that monument, didn't she?"
"Yeah."
"…You idiot. In that case, she's probably deciphering the Ancient Elven right now."
"What?"
"You were struck by an inexplicable magic. If she has the text from the monument that might explain the spell's true nature, of course she'd rush to decode it immediately…"

The blood completely drained from Genau's face.

"You don't think… she would…"
"Of course she would. Being who she is, Methode would move faster than anyone for your sake…"

That truth ruthlessly gouged at Genau's chest.
What if the woman who was rushing around for his sake had already unraveled the true meaning of that text?

And what if she realized that the cursed mark was etched into the skin of another woman?
How much would it hurt her?
No—would she stop at just being hurt?

Her unwavering devotion up until now, her deep affection that sometimes bordered on obsession.
If all of that was suddenly perceived as a betrayal, what in the world would happen?

Perhaps.
He didn't even want to consider it, but perhaps.
Just as he tried to shake away the worst-case scenarios flashing through his mind—

"Genau-san. Sense-san."

From behind them, a terribly quiet, gentle voice fluttered down.
Genau and Sense's shoulders jumped in unison.

They slowly turned around to find Methode standing there, her back to the setting sun. With her flaxen hair swaying in the wind, she wore a flawless—and terrifyingly beautiful—smile.

"I heard the news from Lady Serie."

Her voice was infinitely sweet.
It carried the same warmth as always, like a butterfly dancing through a flowerbed.
Yet, deep within her eyes, a light capable of freezing everything solid had taken root.

Anger, jealousy, sorrow.
And a thread of rationality that seemed barely held together.
These emotions mixed at a terrifying magnitude, wrapping around Genau's neck like an inescapable silken cord.

"To think that you harbored such deep affections for Sense-san, Genau-san… I had absolutely no idea."
"Methode, that's not it. It's some kind of mistake."
"A mistake, is it?"

Methode tilted her head and placed a hand over her mouth, giggling elegantly.

"Magic reflects reality, Genau-san. The magic of the monument manifests upon one's 'beloved'. And the mark was carved into Sense-san's arm. That is an unshakable fact."

She took a step closer.
That single step echoed as heavily as the footfalls of a reaper.

"Sense-san, how is your arm faring? Has your mana not dropped?"
"Ah, yeah… For now, since I'm beside Genau. It's fine."

Even Sense was overwhelmed by the unnatural atmosphere, answering with a stutter.
Methode stared at Sense's arm with eyes full of charity, before returning her gaze to Genau.

"Please rest assured, Sense-san. Genau-san is a very responsible man. After all, the life of his beloved as a mage is on the line. I'm certain he will protect you without ever leaving your side."
"Methode… Please, listen to me…"
"Faced with the passionate bond between the two of you, there is no room for someone like me to intrude. Have I perhaps been a bit of a nuisance?"

There was no shouting. No sign of losing her composure.
The blades of her words, relentlessly gentle and beautiful, systematically butchered Genau's vital spots.

He could tell that her rationality—her concern for Sense—was desperately suppressing the intense jealousy and heartbreak of a spurned woman. That was exactly why her smile was so agonizing, and so terrifying.

"…I have no room for excuses. But I…"
"Yes, I understand perfectly."

Methode cut off Genau's words and dropped a smile that was impossibly cold, yet captivatingly alluring.

"Your heart has always been with Sense-san, hasn't it, Genau-san?"

A suffocating silence dominated the entrance.
The sun had completely set, casting the cold light of evenly spaced mana lamps across the stone corridor.
Right beside them, clerks of the Magic Association passed by, chatting merrily after finishing their day's work. The peaceful, tranquil air they carried felt like something from a distant world to Genau right now.

How much time had passed?
At the bottom of an eternity-like silence, Methode let out a small, yet incredibly deep sigh.

"…Haa."

With that exhale as the boundary, the air enveloping her changed completely.
The face of a woman burning with jealousy and sorrow vanished, and the persona of a cold, exceptional mage flawlessly covered her surface.

"It is reluctant… highly reluctant… but the shackles placed upon Sense-san cannot be ignored."

Her gaze quietly captured Genau and Sense.
There was no longer the terrifying smile from a moment ago, nor the piercing coldness. There was only the transparent intellect required to complete a mission.

"Sense-san being unable to fully utilize her mana is a great loss to the Association. Let us consider how to break this spell."
"…Right."
"Yeah. That's best."

Genau and Sense replied with brief agreement, paying meticulous attention not to break through the thin ice.
Methode gave a small nod and pulled a leather-bound notebook from her robes.

"Regarding the Ancient Elven carved into the monument… I have just finished deciphering it. The two of you have not heard the original text yet… have you?"

Methode asked with her head tilted slightly, her eyes harboring pure scholarly curiosity.
Genau swallowed past a dry throat, barely squeezing out a voice.

"Yeah… we only know the summary Lady Serie provided."
"…I understand. I shall read it aloud, then."

Methode opened the notebook, softly tracing the words.

O thou who inherits the abyssal seal.
Offer as tribute the deepest heat dwelling within thy soul, the highest object of thy adoration.
The hidden logic of this magic shall carve the mark of the pact into the flesh of the caster's beloved.

The words, spun out so dispassionately, hurt Genau's ears.

The mark is a chain of bonds.
When distance divides the two, the marked one's mana shall run entirely dry.
The path of salvation is but one: linger close to thy soul's counterpart, and let thy mana intertwine.
Otherwise, the stagnation pooling at the bottom of the vessel shall simply, silently rot away.

Methode's voice seemed to melt into the silence of the night.
She stopped reading there and raised her eyes from the notebook.

"…What do you make of it?"
"Lady Serie summarized it for us, but… so that is how the original text reads."

Sense chewed over Methode's words, comparing them with her own memory.

"'The highest object of adoration' corresponds to the beloved. And the mark of the pact… if distance separates them, the bearer's mana withers; if they linger close, it returns. Broadly speaking, there is no deviation from Lady Serie's summary."

Listening to Sense flatly confirm the facts, Genau let out a low groan in the back of his throat.

Strange.
The summary wasn't wrong, exactly. It accurately and efficiently explained the conditions for the magic's activation and the resulting phenomena.

But the original text Methode had just read aloud...
Genau felt a sense of incongruity regarding the "unspoken parts" that had been trimmed away during the summarization. It was an uncomfortable feeling, like a puzzle piece being forced into a box with the wrong picture.

"What is it, Genau?"

Sense called out to him, eyeing him suspiciously as he fell into a scowling silence.

"Methode. Is that truly the original text? The entirety of it?"
"Yes... I am certain. This is everything that was inscribed."
"No... If this is the full text, something is off. The context is strange."

When Genau voiced his doubt with absolute conviction, Methode immediately agreed, as if she had been waiting for him to say it.

"Yes. I believe so as well. Read as a continuous flow, it is unnatural."

An intuition had instantly connected between the two of them.
In that tense atmosphere, only Sense was left behind. She tilted her head, her long grey hair swaying in confusion.

"...? Really? Was something strange about it?"

Genau quietly shifted his gaze from the bewildered Sense to Methode's profile as she stared intently at her notebook.

"If this passage is the entirety of it, then words are missing. It's the final sentence: 'Otherwise, the stagnation pooling at the bottom of the vessel shall simply, silently rot away.' This is the strange part. The first half states that the beloved... receives a mark..."

Suddenly, Methode faltered. Genau felt the air freeze with a sharp crack for a split second. However, she gave a small cough and forcefully continued her thought.

"...My apologies. It states that the beloved receives a mark, and they are saved if they linger close. However, to introduce a dismissive contradiction at the very end with 'Otherwise' is grammatically unnatural. If the stagnation is to silently rot away, what is the result of that...? There should be an explanation or a condition to prevent it from rotting away, but that is entirely missing from this text."

Methode raised her head and looked at the two of them.

"I see. In other words, the inscription you two saw wasn't the full text... There is still a continuation. Is that what you're saying?"
"Yes."

Methode turned her face toward Sense and declared it as fact.

"We did not investigate those ruins thoroughly. There must be another stone monument somewhere that records the rest of the text."

A flawless analysis. Cold, clear eyes completely devoid of personal feelings.
At her accurate assessment, a strong sense of relief spread through Genau's chest, as if his bindings had been untied.

The worst of the storm had passed.
She had prioritized her duties as a First-Class Mage and Sense's well-being over her own personal emotions.

However, that relief instantly turned into a cold, heavy lump of lead, dropping to the pit of Genau's stomach.

The efficient, refined movement of Methode closing her notebook.
She had not accepted this. Her wounds hadn't healed, nor had her anger vanished.

She had merely forced herself to swallow it down.
She had forcibly clamped a thick iron lid over the dark, raging passions that must be swirling in her chest. All to save a comrade. To spare any more wasted time berating this clumsy, foolish man.

(...I'm sorry.)

An apology that could never be spoken burned agonizingly in the back of his throat. To offer a string of cheap excuses right now felt like an insult to her resolve to remain noble.

"Genau-san. Sense-san's drop in mana is serious. Let us speak to Lady Serie first and immediately take action."
"...Yeah. You're right. Let's hurry the preparations."

Genau could only kill his own emotions and nod back, acting merely as a First-Class Mage carrying out a mission.

-----

Serie's throne room, enveloped in silence.

The details of the incident, and the deduction Methode had arrived at.
That the inscription brought back was incomplete. And that to break the spell, they needed to return to the ruins and find the rest of the text.

Having heard everything, Serie gently narrowed her eyes, still resting her cheek on her hand.

"I see. That makes sense, Methode."
"Yes. We need to head to the ruins immediately to investigate."

Serie gave a brief nod at Methode's counsel.

"Genau."
"Yes."
"Even if it was force majeure, you are the one who caused this. Take responsibility and deal with it."
"Understood."

Next, Serie's gaze shifted to Sense.

"Sense. As long as your mana is draining, you cannot leave Genau's side. You are to accompany them."
"...Understood."

And finally, Serie's eyes moved back to Methode.

"Methode. Since you can decipher Ancient Elven, you are to decode the monument on-site and assist those two."
"Understood, Lady Serie."

Methode bowed deeply, her movements flowing and terribly beautiful.

What emotions were hidden beneath those lowered, long eyelashes? Genau wasn't even permitted to guess. He couldn't sense a shred of the burning jealousy or the quiet, terrifying anger from moments ago.
A perfectly crafted mask of a proper lady. And that, in turn, squeezed agonizingly tight around Genau's chest.

Meanwhile, Sense, standing on his other side, remained expressionless and silent.
The air around her grew damp and unbelievably heavy. Genau understood her feelings all too painfully.

Of all things, she was being forced to accompany them right into the middle of this boiling, chaotic mess of love and hate. Her silent, intense protest at being dragged in as collateral damage stabbed into Genau's side like physical pressure.

Sense, silent and refusing to meet his eyes.
Methode, with a perfect smile plastered on, refusing to reveal her inner thoughts.
Completely caught between the two of them, Genau stood frozen, unable to find a single word of defense.

-----

Only the monotonous sound of wheels crushing gravel echoed continuously inside the spacious box.

It was a two-day journey by carriage and on foot to reach the ruins. Inside the simple yet roomy carriage, large enough to seat ten, Genau sat with his arms crossed, enduring a suffocating feeling with no escape.

The cause was obvious. It was due to the utterly bizarre seating arrangement filling the space.

Despite the sheer spaciousness of the carriage, Sense was seated directly beside Genau, their shoulders practically touching. If they put distance between them, her mana would deplete, forcing them to physically remain glued to one another.
And on the exact diagonal across from them—the furthest possible seat in the carriage—Methode sat all alone.

A woman sitting as far away as possible from the man and woman huddled together.
It was a visibly oppressive, and terribly comical, tableau.

"...It certainly is taking a while."

Unable to bear it any longer, Genau let the mutter slip, his voice shockingly stiff and strained even to his own ears.

"It hasn't even been an hour since we left... Calm down."

A sigh-laced whisper returned from Sense beside him.
Poisoned by this terrible atmosphere, her usual lethargy was severely exacerbated. Coupled with her mana not being at full capacity, her complexion was entirely drained of vigor.

Genau let his gaze wander again, directing it toward Methode.
She was sitting alone, gazing out at the desolate scenery with an absent expression. Her profile, bundled in winter clothing, was as beautiful as a sculpture. Yet, there was not a shred of her usual sun-drenched warmth or sweet smiles.

Her gaze never turned toward Genau or Sense; it simply wandered quietly and relentlessly toward the horizon beneath the leaden sky.

"...Is she always like this?"

Sense asked in a voice so faint Methode couldn't hear. Genau silently shook his head.

"No... We don't converse all that much... but even so, she usually looks my way."

Or she would smile happily at him, or reach out to dote on him. Now, she feigned perfect apathy, as if the entity known as Genau didn't even exist in the space.

"...Haa."

Abruptly, a small but terribly frigid sigh escaped Methode's lips.
Genau and Sense's shoulders twitched simultaneously.

Was she angry? Exasperated? Or was it just a breath? Unable to gauge its true meaning, cold sweat trickled down Genau's spine.

(This atmosphere is too uncomfortable...)

Steeling his resolve, Genau leaned into Sense again and whispered.

"...Should I try to start a conversation?"
"Don't. I can only see a future where that makes everything more complicated."

Sense rejected the idea instantly and sharply.
She glared at Genau with resentful eyes that practically screamed, Look at the situation, you idiot.

He almost retorted that she had previously told him to consult her if he had worries, but he knew that doing so now would indeed only lead to a worse outcome.

"Fuu..."

Another sigh from Methode by the window.
Not a single word of blame. To be able to whittle away the sanity of two veteran mages with nothing but an exhale was truly terrifying.

"...Hey, move away a bit."

Perhaps unable to bear the silence any longer, Sense slid her body toward the edge of the seat, creating an unnatural gap between her and Genau.

"But, your mana..."
"It's fine. It will hold if we're just a little apart. Surely you understand that being practically glued together is bad when things are already this awkward."

Sense shooed him with her hand. It was her own small show of consideration for Methode, and a desperate escape from this hellish discomfort.

"But what if we are attacked and your reaction is delayed?"
"I told you, don't get close... I'm fine."
"It's because you keep moving away. Just come a little closer."

Every time the carriage swayed, the petite Sense twisted her body to create distance, while the tall Genau reached out an arm to pull her back. They were both just desperately struggling to do something about this awful atmosphere.

"I said it's fine. Stay away."

Sense snapped flatly.
At her tone, Genau finally complied, lifting his hips to pull away slightly.

It was then.

"Genau-san."

A gentle, peaceful voice, like a hand stroking silk.
Methode, who had supposedly been looking out the window the whole time, had turned to face them. Beneath her flaxen hair, a terribly transparent smile—devoid of all emotion—pierced Genau.

"What is it?"

His voice cracked noticeably.

"Please, stay right by Sense-san's side... unless you wish to regret her mana being depleted in a crucial moment..."

It was the flawless 'correct argument' of a First-Class Mage.
Prioritizing a comrade's life and the success of the mission above all else. Not a shred of personal feeling like jealousy or anger was included in the statement. It was perfectly rational, charitable concern.

And that was exactly why it was so terrifying.

Swallowing down all the dark, swirling emotions that should have been raging in her chest, she locked Genau and Sense in the impenetrable prison of "the correct decision."
Since they knew the effects of the magic, there wasn't a single justifiable reason in this space for Genau to leave Sense's side.

"..."

Wordlessly, Methode quietly returned her gaze to the window.
All that remained were the two of them, their escape routes completely blocked by flawless, unassailable logic.

Sense looked up at the ceiling with eyes full of deep despair, then reluctantly slid right back to her original spot next to Genau. The proximity, where their shoulders were almost touching, was right now nothing short of cursed.

"Sense..."
"...Don't talk to me anymore. Become nothing. Nothing."

Sense squeezed the words out into Genau's ear with the voice of a dead woman.

"Yeah... You're right."

Genau nodded deeply and closed his eyes.
Inside the swaying carriage. Sitting so close they could feel each other's body heat, the two merely held their breath like stone statues.

-----

After enduring that hellish carriage ride, the three of them took refuge at an inn along the highway. They were each assigned their own single room.

Fleeing as if to escape the suffocating tension, Sense locked herself in her room, finished her bath, and completed her daily routine of tending to her excessively long hair.
Late into the night.
Still in her nightgown, Sense huddled against the biting cold on the balcony.

"...Why must I be subjected to this?"

Accompanied by a clouded white breath, a mutter of sheer exhaustion melted into the dark.
Looking up, the night sky of the Northern Plateau was filled with a myriad of stars, twinkling as if frozen in place. Yet, the heavy clouds in Sense's heart showed no signs of clearing. With weary eyes, she traced the reddish-black mark etched into her arm.

That she was the object of Genau's affections.
No matter how many times she turned it over in her mind, it felt like nothing more than a sick joke. And it surely felt the same for Genau himself.

They had known each other since they both became First-Class Mages, but it wasn't as if they were exceptionally close. If anything, they clashed far more often due to their differing temperaments and views on magic. Whenever they crossed paths, sarcasm would fly, and neither would ever yield an inch.

And yet...

From the fingertips tracing the mark, she felt what seemed like a faint pulsation of mana.
When she thought of it as proof that she was connected to him, a terribly strange ripple formed in the very depths of her chest—a place she had tried so hard to dismiss as merely 'annoyed'.

Is it truly nothing but a nuisance?

At that quiet question dropping into the depths of her mind, Sense narrowed her eyes in self-deprecation.
It was true that they clashed constantly.
But for some reason, their conversations never stagnated. And above all, the wordless silences between them were never agonizing.
He was a man as clumsy as steel, lacking even a shred of amiability, with facial muscles that seemed practically dead.
Yet, the trust she placed in his back carried a heavier, more certain weight than anyone else's.

He was someone she felt comfortable being around.

Because of that, could she truly declare that absolutely zero romantic affection existed within her?
It was precisely because she couldn't definitively say 'no' that this magic was so exceptionally cruel.

"...Ridiculous."

Muttering to no one in particular, Sense dropped her sleeve as if trying to flee from the thought. The wind caught her long grey hair, swaying it heavily.

Suddenly, muffled voices drifted up from the floor below.
It was an old wooden inn. In the dead silence of the night, even a trivial exchange in the corridor below echoed straight up to the balcony.

"Methode, wait..."
"What is it, Genau-san? It is already quite late, and we have an early morning tomorrow."

It was Genau's clumsy voice, bleeding with desperation, and Methode's voice, flawlessly repelling it.

"No, but... we cannot simply leave things as they are..."
"There is nothing we can do right now. Our first priority is to head to the ruins and find the remaining inscription. We have no other leads."
"I know that, but..."
"I am perfectly fine. Please get some rest as well, Genau-san. Good night."

Click.
Along with a chillingly final sound that brokered no argument, she sensed the door closing.
A few moments later, the heavy sound of Genau's footsteps ascending the stairs echoed through the wood.

Leaning against the railing, Sense let out a small breath.
Methode's attitude—at least on the surface—betrayed no anger or jealousy toward Genau. By throwing herself entirely into the mission to resolve the situation, she was desperately trying to hold her fracturing heart together.

She appeared so mature, but in truth, she was a terribly pure and clumsy woman.

The glass window behind Sense opened, and Genau stepped out onto the balcony.
Catching sight of Sense, her silver hair blowing in the freezing wind, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

"...You're still awake."
"Yeah. Taking care of my hair always takes me into this hour."
"No wonder you always look half-asleep."
"That is none of your concern."

Like curses, like teasing.
Such unadorned exchanges slipped from their lips entirely naturally. The realization that this very atmosphere between them was the root cause of this entire disaster made Sense want to sigh all over again.

"Genau. Forget about Methode for now."
"...What do you mean?"
"Right now, she is desperately suppressing this deeply unpleasant situation by fulfilling her duties. You should treat this as a mission, too. You're good at that sort of thing, aren't you?"
"...I suppose."

Genau stepped up beside her.
Because he stood upwind, the biting night chill battering Sense suddenly softened.
Just as she tried to lower her gaze from the starry sky—

Rustle.
The heavy, solid weight of thick fabric was draped over Sense's slender shoulders.

"...!"

It was the cloak Genau had been wearing just a moment ago.
The thick, sturdy material completely enveloped her freezing, thinly-clad body. Imbued within it was his faint body heat and the lingering scent of his mana.
A rugged, unrefined warmth slowly seeped into her defenseless skin.

"...What is the meaning of this?"
"You don't go on many expeditions. Don't underestimate the nights in the Northern Plateau. Let your guard down, and you'll catch a cold."

His profile remained facing forward; he delivered the words flatly, not even bothering to look at her.

"You know, you should do things like that for Meth—no, never mind. I just told you to 'forget' her, didn't I?"
"Yeah."

A short, low voice, practically crawling along the ground, returned.
Genau's profile was so quiet he looked ready to melt into the night's darkness; it was impossible to read what he was thinking.
Sense let out a small breath and tightened her grip on the collar of the cloak before it could slip from her shoulders.

"Tell me, Genau."
"What?"
"What do you make of this magic? At the very least, the idea that I am the one you cherish most is... a mistake, isn't it?"

Faced with a question that pierced the core of the issue, Genau fell silent.
Deep wrinkles carved themselves between his brows as he stared into the darkness below.

"Hey, don't ignore me. Say something."
"...I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?"
"Because I had never even considered it."

Genau quietly spilled his clumsy, honest truth.

"To me, you were an old colleague who often meddled with me despite my lack of words. I thought of you as nothing more, and nothing less."

Sense let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

"Well, the feeling is mutual. I thought the exact same thing."
"But..."

Genau's deep voice wavered ever so slightly in the cold wind.

"I hold respect for how you carry yourself and your decisiveness. And... it is true that talking to you somehow puts me at ease. If I am asked whether that constitutes 'affection'... I honestly don't know anymore."

No embellishments, no attempts to cover it up—just a raw confession of facts.
Yet, that very clumsy sincerity caused undeniable ripples deep within Sense's chest.
It wasn't a burning, passionate romance, but rather a quiet gravity cultivated over long years—the simple feeling of being 'at ease by their side'.
Had the magic defined the depth of those deeply-rooted, unconscious feelings as "love"?

"So you're saying I was always close by, and you never consciously thought about it... until a certain catalyst forced you to. It sounds just like an old fairytale, Genau."
"...If it's a fairytale, then fine. Fairytales always end with the curtain falling cleanly."
"You're naive. Don't think all fairytales have happy endings."

Sense gave a soft huff of laughter, slowly lifted the cloak from her shoulders, and pushed it back against Genau's chest.
From the fingertips that brushed against him through the fabric, a reluctant, lingering warmth slipped away.

"My apologies. It was warm... Thank you."
"It's fine."

As Genau took the cloak back, Sense stared up at his face with her perpetually sleepy eyes.

"...Did Methode teach you how to drape a cloak over someone like that, too?"
"No, I've never done this for her."

Genau answered immediately, his voice completely devoid of any hidden meaning.
Sense instinctively looked up at the heavens, letting out what must have been her dozenth massive sigh of the night.

"...Genau, you..."
"What?"
"If you're doing this on purpose, you have a terrible personality."
"Hm?"
"If you aren't doing it on purpose... your personality is even worse."
"...What are you talking about?"

Leaving the man to furrow his brow and tilt his head in confusion, Sense said nothing more and spun on her heel.

"Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

She stepped back through the window frame into her room.
After sliding the glass door shut with a soft click, Sense covered her own heated sigh with the palm of her hand.

(This magic... truly is a nightmare...)

The unconscious, oblivious gentleness of an overly earnest, clumsy man.
A man who had driven Methode to near-madness with devotion, and who was now quietly awakening 'something more than an old acquaintance' buried deep within Sense herself.
Nursing a mild headache, Sense slipped beneath the cold covers of her bed.

-----

After a suffocating two-day journey of unbroken tension.
The three First-Class Mages stood once again in the stone ruins sprawling across the desolate earth.

"So this is where you renewed the barrier?"
"Yeah. Right in front of that monument... That's where I was bathed in that inexplicable magic."

At Genau's words, Sense rubbed her upper arm and surveyed their surroundings.

"It certainly is strange mana. Unfathomably deep. But..."
"It isn't sinister, nor is it violent, right?"

Genau offered, and Sense gave a small nod.

"Right. How should I put it... It's terribly introverted, damp mana. I can feel a vindictiveness from it, as if it has been doing nothing but simply lying in wait..."
"Right? It's incredibly eerie."

An exchange of words as natural as breathing. As if the terribly awkward, suffocating atmosphere from before had been a lie, a natural rhythm was born between the two the moment they stood on the field.

"—Ahem."

As if slicing through their closed-off world with a sharp blade, an intentionally clear cough rang out.
When Genau hurriedly turned around, Methode was standing a few paces away, smiling quietly.

"I have no objections to the two of you enjoying a lively discussion about magic, however..."

A smile as flawless as a holy mother's. Yet, her eyes carried a distinct chill that pierced right through Genau and Sense.
He could tell that her gaze was silently condemning the physical distance between them, which had naturally closed.

"Let us begin searching for the 'continuation' of the monument."

It was a perfectly reasonable suggestion from Methode. There was no anger in her voice, but because it was so perfectly composed, it created the illusion of unseen thorns lurking beneath.
Genau gave a small nod and began silently scouring the perimeter of the ruins.

Before long, behind a crumbled stone wall situated diagonally from the monument in question, another inscribed slab was found half-buried in the soil.

"Is this it... Methode, I leave the deciphering to you."
"Understood."

Methode retrieved the thick notebook from her robes. Right as she was about to begin analyzing the Ancient Elven...

Swoosh.
Sense's grey hair swayed as if alive.

"Genau. We're surrounded. Circling the ruins. A pack of monsters."
"Impossible. I haven't dropped my mana detection..."

Genau immediately cast his gaze around the perimeter, but there were no enemy shadows within visual range. Nor had any distinct presences caught in his own detection yet.

"They're still quite a ways off. I expanded my detection radius a bit just to be safe."

Sense announced in a flat voice, sounding as though she might yawn, her eyes still facing forward.
Was it an unconscious attempt to distract herself from the awkward atmosphere by probing far into the distance, or simply her innate vigilance?

Genau immediately entered a combat-ready stance and addressed Methode behind him.

"Methode. Can you determine the exact number of monsters? The precision and depth of your detection surpasses mine."
"Yes... Please leave it to me."

Methode quietly closed her eyes.
A terrifyingly precise, high-density wave of mana was unleashed in an instant, expanding far beyond the ruins.

"...A double encirclement. The enemy count is twenty... no, thirty, perhaps. Four-legged beasts resembling wolves."

Methode slowly lifted her lowered eyelashes.

"I have seen them in literature. They are a troublesome species that channels mana into their powerful claws and roars to attack."

Faced with an approaching pack of monsters, Genau's tension quietly mounted.
Yet, he didn't hastily begin kneading his mana. Keeping his eyes fixed forward, he opened his mouth to speak quietly and clearly to the petite colleague beside him.

"Sense."
"What."
"I'm leaving it to you."
"Yeah."

An exchange lasting only seconds, sweeping past like the wind.
Genau didn't even look at her face. Despite facing thirty troublesome monsters, there was no prior consultation, not even a confirmation of tactics—just a simple request and an acceptance.

At this rhythm, entirely stripped of wasted effort or doubt, Genau felt Methode draw a sharp, small breath behind him.

"...Sense-san, going alone...?"

Methode's voice was laced with unconcealed agitation and a hint of panic.

"Is it surprising? If you know the magic of my hair, you should realize it's easier for me to move alone against a pack like this."

Before she had even finished speaking, a massive surge of mana rose from beneath Sense's feet.
Sense slowly turned her head, surveying the area as if calculating the enemy's formation.

"Genau. I might let two or three slip past me."
"Understood. I will deal with them here."
"Counting on you."

Leaving only those words behind, Sense launched herself straight toward the depths of the forest.
The thunderous sound of terrifying mana clashing began to echo in the distance.

"Will she be alright...? Those monsters are known for their agility..."
"She will be fine. Methode, continue deciphering."
"Yes..."
"If any that Sense misses come this way, I will handle them. Focus on the inscription."

Methode gave a small nod and set her pen flying across the sequence of Ancient Elven characters once more.

"...You place deep trust in Sense-san, don't you, Genau-san?"

Her voice carried a faint tremble that she had been desperately trying to hide.

"Trust, is it? In a sense, perhaps."
"I believe the two of you truly understand and complement each other well... I find myself a little envious."

The self-deprecating ring of those words tumbled out, mixing with the scratch of her pen.
Keeping his guard up toward the forest without letting his vigilance slip, Genau directed his attention behind him.

Methode kept her eyes lowered, moving only the tip of her pen. Her profile looked terribly torn between her pride as a mage and the isolating feeling of being the only one left completely out of the loop.

"Methode..."

Genau bit back his words, and then slowly shook his head.

"Saying I 'believe' in her might be a bit misleading."
"Excuse me?"
"The correct way to say it is: 'If I don't trust her with it, she'll get angry.'"

At those unexpected words, he felt Methode blink in surprise.

"Fussing over her or trying to watch her back is an insult to Sense as a First-Class Mage. I asked her to take the vanguard, and she accepted. Therefore, I simply accept the judgment she makes and the results she brings. That is the nature of the distance between her and me."

It was by no means a sweet sentiment. It was merely a survival strategy, honed to survive blood-soaked battlefields.

"Then..."

Methode's slender fingers tightened their grip on the pen.

"Does that mean I am not yet someone worthy of your trust?"
"What?"
"Right now, I am simply being protected by you, Genau-san... Unable to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you like Sense-san does."

Genau looked back at her with an expression of profound bewilderment. He truly could not fathom why this brilliant woman was harboring such a fundamental misunderstanding.

"Watching each other's backs isn't the only form of trust. Fulfilling the duty required of you in this very moment. That is what makes a First-Class Mage."

The rumble of the earth was drawing closer. The sound of trees being mown down in the forest began to echo.

Genau quietly raised his mana.

"I just entrusted the subjugation of the monsters to Sense. And Methode, I entrusted you with 'deciphering'—the only key to resolving this situation. I have assigned a duty to those I trust, and I do not harbor a single shred of doubt that it will be accomplished."

The roars of the approaching monsters. Yet, Genau's voice did not waver.

"Therefore, I won't tell you to owe me one. But... I want you to trust the back of the man who is trying to protect you from anything that might disrupt your deciphering."

The wind stopped.
The shadow of cold alienation melted away from Methode's eyes.
She offered a small, yet breathtakingly alluring smile.

"...Yes. I trust you. Always, and with everything."

Three massive wolf-like monsters leaped from the shadows of the forest, their red eyes gleaming. The individuals Sense had let slip.
The giant wolves lunged.
There was no panic in Genau's eyes. He merely let his mana flow silently.

"—Magic that wields wings of black gold (Digadnacht). "

From Genau's back, massive steel wings shining in pitch black explosively deployed.
They possessed overwhelming mass and speed, seemingly tearing through the very darkness of the night itself.

A single flash.
The intersecting black blades cleanly cleaved the three airborne monsters in half like scraps of paper. Before the spray of blood could even rise, the massive bodies of the monsters slammed onto the cold stone pavement as six hunks of meat.

The black afterimages vanished in the air. The flapping black-gold wings suddenly dispersed into particles of mana and faded away.

Silence fluttered back into the ruins.
In the completely stilled space, only the crisp sound of the pen scratching against paper continued to echo.

"...I had always thought of you as an anti-role model, Genau-san, but..."

Lifting her face, the colors of alienation and sorrow were entirely gone from her eyes.

"You aren't an anti-role model, are you..."

Receiving those straightforward words, a small smile spilled onto Genau's face—so naturally it surprised even him.
It was a peaceful, soft expression surfacing on a face that had constantly been likened to iron.

"No. 'Anti-role model' is fine by me."
"...Pardon?"
"I don't live a life meant to be a shining example to others... and I have no intention of doing so in the future."

Self-deprecating, yet entirely unashamed words.
Hearing the slight ease in his tone, Methode also deepened her smile—one that looked a bit troubled, but profoundly affectionate.

"...Is that so... Yes, I suppose it is."

Genau felt a soft, warm atmosphere return to the frozen space between them.
It was an air they hadn't touched in a long time, ever since this absurd incident began.
A time meant only for Genau and Methode—understanding each other's clumsiness, and quietly accepting it.

It was then.
Crack. The unrefined sound of branches being snapped underfoot echoed from deep within the forest.

"...I'm done."

It was Sense.
Despite having just single-handedly trampled a pack of monsters, she climbed the stone steps of the ruins with her usual sleepy eyes, stifling a small yawn.

"I killed twenty-seven. Did three head your way?"
"Yeah. I took care of them."

Hearing Genau's words, Sense let out a bored exhale.

"I see. The numbers match, then."

Sense muttered under her breath. As she trudged over languidly, Genau called out to her.

"Any injuries?"
"None."
"How is your mana?"
"I exhausted quite a bit... but, well, it's fine."

As the two exchanged words in their usual rhythm.
Snap. The crisp sound of the notebook closing echoed.

"...I have finished deciphering."

Methode turned to face them.
Her expression was somewhat heavy, carrying a terribly gloomy shadow.

"Good work, Methode."

Genau walked over to her. Sense also silently lined up next to Genau. Perhaps due to the mana consumed in the fierce battle just now, Sense's complexion was transparently pale, and clear exhaustion bled into her steps.

There was not a moment to lose.
Seeking only the practical means to save his colleague, Genau directed a pressing gaze at Methode.

"What did it say?"
"...This monument detailed the method to break the spell. However..."

Methode lowered her eyes and gently traced the page of the notebook with her finger.

"Along with it... the price to pay if the breaking of the spell fails..."

Under the leaden sky.
Methode's voice began to echo against the cold stone walls of the ruins.

O thou who attempts to overcome the trial.
As two walk the logic of this mortal realm, to remain unparted for even a moment is but an impossible dream.
When overlapping shadows sever, that which erodes the bearer of the mark is no bond, but a chain of vanity.

Genau nodded.
Up to that point, it was merely a repetition—or perhaps an addendum—to the monument they had originally deciphered.
But after a brief pause, the words that followed from Methode's lips shook Genau's very heart.

The stagnation pooling at the bottom of the vessel is a false heart, left unspoken.
If the affection be a lie, the soul of the mark shall simply, silently rot away.

(A false heart... the soul shall rot away... you say?)

An ice-cold shiver ran down Genau's spine.
Methode's voice was perfectly clear, seemingly stripped of all emotion. And precisely because of that, the decree left behind by the ancient caster sounded as absolute as a divine oracle, ringing with an inescapable cruelty.

The means to break it is but one.
Confess the true heart that burns thy souls as an unfeigned truth.
A hidden romance, or a cold rejection.
When the sincerity within the abyss is conveyed, the mark of the pact shall scatter like mist, and logic shall return to its rightful sheath.

The wind stopped.
An overwhelming silence enveloped the ruins, as if every sound had been erased from the world.

Let the affections take form.
The true heart alone is the single blade that severs the curse.

Having finished reading the final verse as if offering a prayer, Methode slowly raised her head.
The deep, quiet sorrow lurking in her eyes intersected silently in the air with Genau's wide, paralyzed gaze.

"...Are you saying... those are the conditions?"

The voice squeezed from Genau's throat was so hoarse it surprised even him.
It was far too heavy a reality.
Yet, the one to abruptly shatter that suffocating, despair-filled silence was the very "beloved" who bore the mark: Sense.

"My apologies, but... I am not very good with these cryptic, poetic phrasings... Could you summarize it? In short, what does it mean?"

She tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled as she glanced between the deeply anguished faces of Genau and Methode.
In battle, her intuition was sharper and more rational than anyone's, but when it came to poetic metaphors entangled in emotional subtleties, she instantly became terribly clumsy.

Standing in for the completely dumbfounded Genau, Methode quietly explained the spell's true meaning.

"...In short. Genau-san must express his true, innermost feelings regarding you, Sense-san, without a single shred of falsehood or deception."

Methode's clear voice rode the cold wind to reach Sense's ears.

"Whether that be a hidden romance, or a cold rejection... He must question his own soul, give words to its true form, and strike you with them. That is the only key to severing this magic."
"...And what happens if he tells a lie, or tries to deceive it?"
"As the inscription states... 'If the affection be a lie, the soul of the mark shall simply, silently rot away.' If so, then most likely... your soul will rot away, Sense-san."
"...Meaning, I will die."

Genau sensed Sense draw a faint, sharp breath.

Confess the true heart as an unfeigned truth. It meant that Genau had to face Sense and hurl whatever nameless emotion was settling at the bottom of his heart straight at her, entirely without deception.
If it truly was "love," it meant admitting it right in front of her eyes.

Genau swallowed hard and instinctively looked beside him.
Sense remained silent, staring at the reddish-black mark carved into her slender arm. Her profile revealed nothing of her emotions.

The conversation they had shared on the balcony late last night resurrected itself in Genau's mind.

'I don't know why you are the one I cherish most, but it is true that talking to you puts me at ease.'

'Don't think all fairytales have happy endings.'

At the time, the outline of those feelings had been vague, almost like it was someone else's problem.
But now was different.
The magic was forcing Genau into an ultimate ultimatum. To save Sense, he had to look her straight in the eye and declare either "I love you" or "I do not."

If he confessed love.
It would be a definitive betrayal of Methode, the woman who had just accomplished this deciphering right in front of them to save their lives.

Then, should he declare rejection?
Could he truly, from the very bottom of his soul, state that he felt absolutely nothing for her?
After having just consciously acknowledged Sense as "someone who puts him at ease," could Genau truly deceive the logic of the magic by claiming a cold rejection was the unfeigned truth?

"...Genau."

The flat voice that broke the silence belonged to Sense.
She slowly raised her head. Then, with eyes that were lethargic yet somehow filled with resolve, she stared straight at him.

"Is this something to agonize over? The answer is already decided, isn't it?"

At Sense's words, Genau clenched his jaw.
Her eyes were feeding him the answer.
She was telling him to choose "cold rejection."
She was saying that it was the only "correct answer"—the one that would cause the least friction and spare Methode's feelings.

But if the magic judged that to be a 'lie', she would die.

What should he do?
Genau stood frozen, as if the ice had crept up from his very feet.
Only the sound of the desolate wind stroked the ruins.

In the corner of his vision, Methode clutched the notebook to her chest, looking at him with eyes filled with agonizing, poignant concern.
And standing directly in front of him was Sense, wearing the exact same expression she always did, despite having just been handed a potential death sentence.

"...Can you give me a little time. I want to organize my feelings."

Unable to endure the silence, a cracked voice spilled from Genau's lips.
Unconsciously, he tore his gaze away from Sense and tried to turn his back.
He didn't want to run away. It was just that his thought processes, which had survived countless battlefields, were desperately demanding a grace period to overcome this hopeless board state.

"Yes. Of course..."

Behind him, Methode responded quietly and gently. She understood Genau's anguish better than anyone and was trying her utmost to lighten his burden, even a little.

But the moment Genau tried to take a step across the stone pavement—

"Wait, Genau."

A flat voice anchored him in place.
When he turned back, Sense was looking straight at him. Beneath her bangs were her usual, sleepy eyes. But deep within them dwelt a serious light as sharp as a blade.

"I'm not giving you time. And there's no need to organize your feelings."
"...Sense?"

A cold, outright rejection from the very person whose life was on the line.
As Genau widened his eyes, Methode stepped forward as if propelled by a spring.

"But, Sense-san... Genau-san also has the right to face his own heart and deliberate..."

Hearing Methode's desperate attempt to shield Genau, Sense let out a faint, small breath and chuckled.

"That would be true, if this were the sort of problem where overthinking produces an answer."

Sense cast a brief glance at Methode before returning her gaze to Genau.

"But this is different. The more you think, the more your overly-earnest logic will lose its way. And when you dig too deep, you'll start remembering unnecessary things."
"Unnecessary things...?"

Ignoring Methode's confusion, the corners of Sense's mouth lifted slightly.

"Methode, forgive me, but I have known this man for a long time. The First-Class Mage exams, subjugating demons in the Northern Plateau... We have slipped through the same deadly frontlines and partnered up for the same missions countless times. Meaning, we simply have far too many drawers of shared memories."

Sense's words pierced deeply into the core of Genau's chest.

"I know how you operate. If given the time, you'll start mentally cross-examining every single conversation and action we've ever shared, won't you? Wondering, 'Were those words back then affection? Was that silence a rejection?'"

She was exactly right.

"While trying to construct a logical 'correct answer' to save me, your true feelings and your desires will bleed together, until eventually, you won't even know what the truth is anymore."

Faced with Genau's silence, Sense continued in a flat, yet unmistakably willful voice.

"It is entirely possible that false emotions, justified by logic, will overwrite your true heart. And... that is not what I want."

As if having perfectly seen through the entirety of Genau's mind, Sense narrowed her sleepy eyes.

"I hit the nail on the head, didn't I, Genau?"
"...Yeah."

Genau let out a small breath.
Even though he had been completely read like a book, strangely, it didn't feel unpleasant. On the contrary, he felt the extreme tension gripping his shoulders simply slip away.
Before he knew it, a faint smile—whether self-deprecating or relieved, he couldn't say—had surfaced on his rugged mouth.

"I really have known you for a long time."
"Just use your intuition, Genau. Whatever falls from your lips at this exact moment. That is the truth."
"...Right. Understood."

The two of them gave small nods to each other, as naturally as if they had just decided what to eat for lunch tomorrow.
Only Methode was left completely out of the loop, the colors of her confusion deepening.

"S-Sense-san. Are you truly certain about this...?"
"About what?"
"If... if there is even the slightest hesitation or falsehood in Genau-san's words, your life will...!"
"Ah. True."

To Methode's anguished cry, Sense offered a blank, simple nod of agreement.
Then, she deliberately pointed a finger at Genau.

"Hey, Genau. If by some million-to-one chance I end up dropping dead, I'm going to curse you."
"...Aren't you supposed to say, 'I won't hold a grudge' in times like this?"
"I'll be getting killed by you, you know. Of course I'll hold a grudge."
"...Right. You would say something like that."

An extreme situation with a life on the line.
And yet, the exchange between the two was terribly out of place, a ridiculously deadpan string of banter.
The aura of hopeless tragedy completely dissipated with a single word from Sense.
It was no wonder Methode was bewildered.
But Genau himself found that he, too, was once again overwhelmed by Sense's unfathomable reliability; she utterly refused to play the tragic heroine in this situation.

It was the absolute composure of an adult, acting as if she didn't believe for a single second that she was going to die.

"Sense-san..."
"Methode. Don't make that face. It will be fine."

Sense smiled softly and looked at Genau again.
Grey hair swaying in the wind. Eyes narrowed just a fraction.
To Genau's eyes, that smile reflected the image of an adult woman who was more captivating than he had ever seen her.

"I believe in him, after all."

That single phrase was the final key.
All hesitation vanished.
The cold air began to carry a quiet heat within Genau's chest.
He looked straight at Sense.
There was no longer any need to flee into a maze of thought. He simply needed to take the outline resting at the bottom of his soul, and give it form through words.

"Sense... I deeply respect you as a mage, and I consider you to be the most reliable colleague I have."

His low, unrefined voice echoed through the silent ruins.
It wasn't a poetic chant, nor was it a sweet whisper of love. But it carried an undeniable heat, one capable of silencing even the logic of magic.

"And... I find your occasional attempts to act older than you are, and your feminine gestures, charming as a human being."
"..."

Sense silently received Genau's words without a single blink. Beside them, Methode had her hands clasped together as if in prayer, holding her breath as she watched the outcome.

"This is my nature. I'm clumsy, I have no amiability, and I make enemies easily... But even so, you never pay it any mind and speak to me without hesitation. To me, that is... incredibly irreplaceable."

There was not a single lie in the words Genau haltingly strung together.
Thinking back, it had always been like this. Whenever he tended to isolate himself, before he knew it, this lethargic colleague would be by his side, throwing candid remarks his way.

"For that very reason, I consider you a precious comrade... a precious friend. Perhaps this inexplicable emotional fluctuation inside me reacted to the 'beloved' condition of this troublesome magic... but there is no passionate romance there. At the same time, a cold rejection pushing you away is absolutely impossible."

It wasn't love. But there was no way he didn't care.
Genau scooped up the purest wish from the very bottom of his chest.

"When I hit a wall, you reach out a hand. You push my back. You casually point out the things I fail to notice... I want our relationship to remain exactly like this, until the day we die."

The wind swept through.
Despite denying any romantic affection, wishing for her to 'stay by his side until death' was, in a sense, a confession heavier and greedier than a marriage proposal.
An incredibly clumsy vow from a lifelong friend, directed at a lifelong friend.

"That is my unfeigned, true heart."

Having declared it, Genau let out a small breath.
If the magic rejected this and she died, it simply meant that the soul of the man named Genau amounted to no more than that.

A heavy silence fell.
Sense slowly fluttered her long eyelashes.
The composure of an enlightened adult woman from moments ago was gone. Her perpetually half-open, sleepy gaze rounded just a fraction, and eventually, a small breath escaped her lips.

"...Heh."

It was an expression Genau had never seen before.
No sarcasm, no exasperation, no lethargy.
It was a soft, defenseless smile, oozing with pure joy—like a flower blossoming.

"Thank you, Genau... I've properly received your terribly heavy feelings."

Sense took a smooth step forward, extending her slender arm from her robe's sleeve, and offered her palm to Genau.
Without hesitation, Genau took her hand.
Their body heat slowly transferred through their palms.

Still holding his hand, Sense let out an amused, cheerful voice.

"Genau. I'm glad you spoke so much, but... let me teach you a much shorter, more convenient phrase to use in extreme life-or-death situations like this."
"...What is it?"

At Genau's confused expression, Sense gave a mischievous little laugh.

"'Let's be friends.' ...Forever, until we die."
"...Yeah. I'm looking forward to it."

Concluding a heavy, life-or-death ritual with a phrase as mundane and cliché as youthful adolescence.
A natural smile finally surfaced on Genau's mouth as well.
Thank you. He murmured the true sentiment in his heart.

It happened the moment their hands parted.
The reddish-black, vine-like mark carved into Sense's arm emitted a pale light and silently scattered, as if melting into the wind.

From her porcelain skin peeking out through her grey hair, the reddish-black mark—the proof of the curse—peeled away as if it had all been a lie.
Genau forgot to even blink as he watched it turn into particles of pale light and dissolve into the wind.

"It's gone..."

Along with profound relief, the tension completely drained from Genau's stiff shoulders. The taut scent of death had finally departed from these desolate ruins.

"How is it, Sense? Any abnormalities in your body..."

Before Genau could even finish his question, a shadow shot out from the corner of his vision with terrifying speed.

"Sense-san, are you alright?! Is there anything wrong with your body? Do you need healing?!"

It was Methode, who had been agonizing over various thoughts just moments before.
Her usual elegant voice was nowhere to be found. With a desperate expression, caring not for appearances, she grabbed Sense's arm and peered into her face.

"...I'm fine. Methode."
"Ah... Thank goodness! I am so, so glad, Sense-san!"

The moment she heard Sense's lethargic reply, the dam broke. Methode tightly embraced Sense's petite body.
Her cold self-restraint, her jealousy of the bond between Genau and Sense, her feelings of alienation—she must have reached her absolute limit. Freed from the extreme tension, she instantly reverted to the usual Methode.

"...Don't hug me. I can't breathe."
"Squeeeeeze..."

As if Sense's protests didn't even register, Methode tightened her arms and rubbed her cheek against hers.

"Hey, Methode... don't use the confusion to satisfy your own desires..."

At her sudden transformation, Genau let out a sigh that was half-exasperation, half-relief.
Just a few minutes ago, there had been a tension between the three of them akin to walking on thin ice, where one wrong step could have led to a fatal catastrophe. Now, it had been completely overwritten by a daily routine devoid of even a shred of urgency.

"Sense-san, may I pet your head?"
"...Yeah. Only because today is a special occasion."
"Fufu, thank you so much...!"

Methode's hand began to gently, and terribly affectionately, stroke Sense's grey hair.
Normally, Sense would dodge it as a nuisance, but perhaps lacking the energy to resist today—or perhaps understanding just how much Methode had suppressed her own emotions to save her—she docilely let herself be pet.

(I feel like I haven't heard such a cheerful conversation in a very long time...)

Genau looked up at the sky and let out another deep breath.
The magic was broken, the restrictions were gone, and their usual, troublesome, noisy everyday life had returned. Instantly, he felt a crushing wave of exhaustion settle onto his shoulders.

When he casually shifted his gaze back, he unexpectedly made eye contact with Sense, who was quietly being pet by Methode.
She still looked sleepy, and wore a somewhat troubled expression at Methode's excessive physical contact. But deep within her eyes, the cheerful, girl-like light she had shown earlier still faintly lingered.
And those eyes were clearly speaking to Genau.

—You'd better do your job properly after this.

Even without her speaking out loud, Genau understood her eloquent message painfully well.
As a lifelong friend, it was her own form of encouragement—and pressure—telling him to face his "true beloved," Methode, without any misunderstandings or falsehoods from here on out.

Genau gave a small cough and gently averted his eyes, as if to escape her overly direct gaze.
He had absolutely no desire to shoulder any more heavy burdens today.

Letting his gaze wander in an attempt to escape, Genau turned back toward the very source of the curse that had cornered them for the past few days: the stone monument.

The weathered, moss-covered, cold stone surface.
A monument of magic with the most abhorrent taste, one that had nearly cost him a comrade and caused an irreparable rift.

(Honestly... Who in the world was it? Leaving behind such an eccentric, bothersome spell...)

It was when he dropped his gaze to the base of the monument with exasperation.

Half-buried in the crumbled rubble and soil at the very bottom of the slab.
There, faintly, he could see a continuous line of unnatural, straight grooves.
It wasn't just a crack.
It was a sequence of the elegant, sharp-angled characters unique to Ancient Elven.

"Hey, Methode."

Genau called out without taking his eyes off the monument.

"Pet, pet..."
"Methode. The petting is over for now. Come here."
"...Yeees."

A dissatisfied, yet somewhat sweet voice replied. The sound of rustling robes echoed behind him, and Methode, looking reluctant to leave Sense, finally walked over.

"What is it?"
"There seems to be more Ancient Elven carved down here as well. It was buried in the dirt, so I didn't notice it... What does it say?"
"Oh my... you're right. Please give me a moment."

Methode crouched down, and with her book in one hand, she gently brushed the dirt off the monument with her pale, slender fingertips.
Beside her, Sense also walked over, combing her grey hair with her fingers.

"Is my hair messy?"
"No. It's the same as always."

They were having such a relaxed, everyday conversation.
It was then.
Methode, who had been practically crawling on the ground to trace the characters, suddenly stopped moving completely.
The wind felt strangely cold.

"This is..."
"What's wrong? What does it say?"

Methode didn't immediately answer Genau's question.
Her gaze darted back and forth between the bottom of the monument and the book in her hand multiple times, as if looking at something unbelievable.
Eventually, she slowly stood up and opened her dry lips.

"What is written here... is the name of the person who inscribed this text..."

Slowly, Methode read the sentence aloud.

In the name of Mirialde, I carve this inscription here.

--

A few days had passed since that freezing, chaotic ordeal in the Northern Plateau.
In the Magic City of Äußerst, tranquil daily life had returned as if nothing had ever happened.

Waking up in her room at the inn, Methode noticed the faint sound of something tapping against the glass and headed toward the window.
Perched on the windowsill was a small carrier bird, a rolled-up piece of parchment tied to its leg.
She suddenly recalled a time when she had snatched a bird like this a bit too aggressively, prompting Genau to sternly warn her, "Consider your strength."
Methode let out a soft chuckle and, this time, petted the bird terribly gently and carefully as she received the letter.

It was delivered using an exclusive communication route meant only for First-Class Mages.
The sender's wax seal bore a familiar mark—it was from Fern.

"...Fern-san!"

She hurriedly broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.
As her eyes chased the neat rows of characters, line by line, her eyelashes began to tremble slightly. Eventually, a deep, incredibly heavy breath tumbled from her lips.

"So that was it..."

It was an unimaginably complex sigh, a mixture of relief, exhaustion, and a profound sense of utter futility.
The gentle morning breeze blowing through the window rustled the parchment that held the truth.

-----

Early that afternoon.
The Continental Magic Association Branch in Äußerst.
Walking down the stone corridor draped in quiet air, Methode spotted a familiar petite back walking ahead of her.
The grey hair, so long it nearly dragged on the floor, swayed faintly with every step.

"Sense-san."

When she called out, Sense slowly turned around. Her perpetually lethargic, sleepy face reflected Methode.

"Hm? Methode. How rare."
"Do you have a moment to spare right now?"

As Methode stepped closer, Sense defensively took a step back, lightly pressing a hand against her own hair.

"...You are not allowed to pet me, understand?"
"No, today it is about something else... There is something I must speak with you about."

Sense must have realized that Methode's tone wasn't her usual sweet one, but rather carried a serious edge. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, before she gave a quiet nod.

"Alright. Let's hear it."

They sat down on a bench in the deserted courtyard.
Basking in the sun, Methode placed the folded parchment on her lap and quietly began to speak.

"Regarding that stone monument, I have uncovered the truth."
"The truth? How... Did you find literature related to that inscription?"
"No, it was from Frieren-san."
"Frieren?"

At the unexpected name, Sense's brow twitched. Methode offered the letter to her.

"The name 'Mirialde', carved at the very end of the inscription. I had previously heard a story from Fern-san."
"...What story?"
"An anecdote regarding the Emperor's Wine (Boshaft), which was said to be a phantom vintage. Its true identity was just cheap swill distributed at an imperial festival. An elf with too much time on her hands named Mirialde carved a fake monument centuries ago claiming 'this is a supreme vintage', half in jest... That is the story."
"...What in the world is wrong with that bothersome elf?"

Deep wrinkles carved themselves between Sense's brows.

"When I saw the name 'Mirialde', I sent a letter to Fern-san just to be safe. I thought perhaps Frieren-san might know something..."

Sense stared blankly with her sleepy eyes as she pondered this, but soon enough, her brilliant mind seemed to arrive at the worst possible conclusion, and her head snapped up.

"Hey, wait. Does that mean..."
"Yes... This is the reply I received from Fern-san."

Methode unfolded the parchment and began to read aloud in a calm, businesslike voice.

Dear Methode-sama,

I asked Frieren-sama about the matter. Ideally, Frieren-sama should write this letter herself, but she is stubbornly insisting that it is too much of a bother, so I am writing in her stead.

According to Frieren-sama, she has heard of the contents of that monument.

She says that the elf named Mirialde also carved monuments other than the one for the Emperor's Wine (Boshaft).

That inscription and the magic are indeed Mirialde's creations.

However, the effects of the magic and the contents of the inscription are different.

First of all, the magic is not 'a spell that prevents you from leaving your beloved's side'.

It is 'a spell that prevents you from leaving the side of a best friend of the opposite sex'.

The mark is carved into the arm of the person whom the caster considers, from the bottom of their heart, to be their best friend.

That was where the first piece of parchment ended. An agonizingly painful silence fell over the courtyard.
Sense let out a deep, heavy sigh, as if she had just condensed all the absurdity of the world into a single breath.

"Not his beloved... but his best friend...?"
"Yes."
"But wait. The method to break the spell was that, wasn't it? He was forced to express his true feelings—to either confess or reject, correct?"
"Yes. The continuation addresses that clearly as well."

Methode dropped her eyes to the second piece of parchment.

The method to break the spell is as the monument states.

You must convey your true feelings to your best friend.

Whether you like them romantically or not.

That is the correct answer.

However, according to Frieren-sama,

No matter how you convey it, it is highly unlikely your life would be taken.

Because she has never heard of such unreasonable magic,

And because there is no possible way for a spell to judge whether someone is 'falsifying their true heart'.

When Methode finished reading, Sense tilted her head in utter incomprehension.

"Making you declare whether you have romantic feelings or not to your best friend...? And even if you make a mistake, you won't die...? I understand the intent even less now."
"...Fern-san has kindly written the reason for that as well."

Methode read the final, most malicious, and utterly exhausting passage of the letter in a completely deadened voice.

According to Frieren-sama, Mirialde supposedly said this while she was alive:

—"I simply don't believe that men and women can be just 'best friends'."

—"After all, no matter how you look at it, they are still a man and a woman."

—"No matter how much they say they don't feel that way, deep down, romantic feelings are stagnating."

—"Don't you think it's an unhealthy stagnation?"

—"So, I'm going to stir up that stagnation for them."

—"If the person who casts a barrier over this monument mistakenly believes their best friend is their 'beloved', and desperately confesses their hidden true feelings..."

—"I think it would be incredibly amusing."

That is what she said.
Will this suffice?

Fern

The sound of the parchment being folded echoed unusually loud.
When Methode looked up, Sense—who had never let her expression crumble no matter how desperate the situation—was visibly scowling, completely failing to hide her heartfelt displeasure.

"So I was dragged into this, feeling my life wither away... all for the sake of a bad joke from an elf with too much free time...?"
"It appears so..."

Sense slid down, sinking into the backrest of the bench as if she had given up fighting gravity. However, as if suddenly realizing something, she quickly straightened her posture again.

"So basically... we were forcibly made to participate in a bad-taste experiment to see 'whether romantic feelings exist between best friends of the opposite sex', while playing out a life-or-death drama?"
"Precisely..."

Methode also let out a small breath in agreement.

How much Genau had agonized, and with how much resolve he had spun those words to Sense. How much she herself had nearly gone mad with jealousy and wept from alienation, while desperately maintaining her sanity to proceed with the deciphering.
All of that tragic heroism... was triggered by a single phrase from a long-lived elf from centuries ago: "I think it would be incredibly amusing."

"Ridiculous... all for something like that..."

Sense, who had begun muttering complaints like curses, suddenly fell silent.
Her lethargic eyes slowly turned toward Methode.

"...No, the one who truly has a right to complain is you, Methode."
"Me...?"
"...It made you unnecessarily anxious, didn't it? Hearing her called his 'beloved'."

At Sense's consideration, Methode's eyes widened just a fraction.
Thrown around by the spell's definition of "beloved," the one who was most hurt and emotionally distressed was undeniably Methode. Sense understood that fact all too painfully.

"No, I..."

As Methode tried to deflect, Sense peeked up at her face.

"I won't let you say 'that isn't true', you know? The atmosphere in that carriage on the way to the ruins was genuinely suffocating."
"Well... Yes."

Accepting that she had been seen through, Methode smiled in a troubled manner.

"To be honest, I was so mad with jealousy I nearly went on a rampage. But I couldn't well turn Äußerst into scorched earth... and if I were to fight you in earnest, Sense-san, I would need proper preparation..."
"That's enough, Methode. Say no more."

Sense raised a single hand to halt Methode's terrifying monologue, unable to tell if it was a joke or entirely serious.
A quiet, somewhat comical silence drifted between them.

"It's a good thing for both of us... that we were in the middle of a city."
"Yes, truly..."

The sweeping wind gently rustled the trees in the courtyard.
Methode stole a few glances at the profile of the petite colleague sitting beside her.
The fact was, while she had believed herself to be his 'beloved', she was actually just his 'best friend'.
Having known Genau for so long, and having received his clumsy words in such an extreme situation—was Sense, perhaps, secretly feeling down about it?

"There's no need for unnecessary consideration, Methode."
"...Whatever do you mean?"
"Your way of dodging the subject is starting to resemble Genau's."

Sense gave a soft chuckle. Her profile had already returned to its usual lethargic composure.

"You're thinking I must be in shock—believing I was appointed as Genau's 'beloved', only to find out I was wrong... Isn't that right?"
"Yes..."

Realizing it was pointless to hide it, Methode nodded honestly.

"If it were me... I would certainly be terribly depressed."
"No need to worry. Genau said it himself, didn't he? There are no romantic feelings between us, and I want it that way, too. If anything, I'm relieved I wasn't his beloved."

Sense uncrossed and recrossed her legs, stating it plainly in a perfectly clear voice.

"Watching him is entertaining. It's true I don't want to lose our relationship, but it's not a matter of romantic love or hate."
"The two of you truly get along wonderfully."
"...Yeah. Let's stick with 'getting along'. It's much better than romance."

At her refreshingly decisive compartmentalization, a soft smile spilled from Methode's lips.
However, a faint trace of doubt still smoldered deep within Methode's eyes. Her exceptional observational skills as a First-Class Mage had not missed the "tiny contradiction" hiding behind Sense's words.

"...You look like you aren't entirely convinced."
"Yes, well. Just a little... after seeing how you were acting back then, Sense-san."
"Back then?"
"In the carriage, on the way to the ruins."

At Methode's quiet observation, Sense's shoulders gave a faint twitch.

"Because back then, Sense-san... you looked just the tiniest bit happier than usual."

Silence fell.
Sense's gaze wavered ever so slightly.

"Back then... you were looking at the scenery outside, weren't you?"
"I was. However, I was constantly monitoring the flow of mana. I felt a fluctuation in your mana... incredibly faint, but it was there. At first, I thought it might be an effect of the magic, but..."

Methode stared intently into Sense's eyes, cutting off her escape routes.
Unable to bear it, Sense abruptly looked away. As if acting as a mouthpiece for their master's intense inner turmoil, the tips of her long grey hair curled into small, nervous spirals to hide her embarrassment.
Eventually, a terribly heavy, yet somehow sweet sigh of surrender tumbled from her lips.

"...It didn't feel bad, that's all."
"Pardon?"
"...I said it didn't feel bad."

Burying the lower half of her face in her collar, she muttered the words, sounding somewhat defensive.
It wasn't the voice of the perpetually calm and lethargic 'First-Class Mage Sense', but rather an incredibly defenseless and endearing revelation of her true feelings as an ordinary woman.

"You mean... being called Genau-san's 'beloved'?"

Keeping her face hidden in her collar, Sense gave a small nod.

"...Yeah. Normally, having such heavy affection directed at you by a man you have zero romantic interest in would only cause discomfort or bewilderment, right?"
"Yes... that's true..."
"But... because it was Genau, it didn't feel bad... Just a little, just the tiniest bit. That's the answer to what happened back then."
"Sense-san..."
"Listen, keep this a secret from Genau. This stays strictly between us."

The eyes glaring up at her from behind the collar were closer to a plea than a threat.
Her restlessly swaying grey hair spoke volumes of the maidenly heart she couldn't quite hide.

"Yes... of course."

Feeling a tiny, sudden prick of jealousy deep in her chest at the adorable sight before her, Methode nonetheless returned a soft, gentle smile.
A small, definitive sharing of a secret between women.
The two looked at each other and, as if a dam had broken, burst into a fit of giggles. The last remnants of tension in Methode's chest melted away completely, like thawing snow.

"Methode. Genau has certainly changed since he met you. You moved that stubborn blockhead's heart. You should be proud."
"Do you think so...? I feel I am still not someone worthy of Genau-san's trust..."
"If he trusts you too much, he won't protect you anymore, you know?"

Methode blinked in surprise at Sense's mischievous remark.

"Let him protect you. That way, he will think about you even more. About how to protect you... and how to ensure he never lets you go."
"Sense-san..."

Once again, a soft breeze swept through the courtyard.

"Methode, I have a favor to ask."
"Yes. What is it?"
"The contents of that letter from Fern... if you haven't told Genau yet... I want you to keep it from him."

At Sense's proposal, Methode looked down at the parchment in her lap.

"You mean... leave Genau-san without knowing the truth?"
"Yeah. Believing I was his 'beloved', Genau had his unnecessary emotions stirred up and was forced to put them into words. In his own way, he must have gathered a desperate amount of courage. To brush all of that off with, 'It was just an elf's prank,' would simply be too pitiful."

Sense's eyes held a deep affection for her longtime best friend.

"That is true. There are some things better left unknown..."
"Genau severed that path with his words. And I accepted his words as his 'best friend'. That is enough. I am happier... this way."
"Yes, let us do that. I believe that is for the best, as well."

Methode smiled gently and carefully tucked the parchment away into her robes.
Thus, the prank set up by an elf from the mythical era was forever buried by the kindness of two women.

The small, shared secret drifted between them with the warmth of a sunny spot.
The tragic ordeal born from a long-lived elf's bad joke had now definitively transformed into a strange, peaceful solidarity between women.

Sense softened her expression and spoke in a gentle voice, as if looking at something far away.

"...Take good care of Genau."

At those words, Methode raised her head.

"He's clumsy and hopelessly always takes on the losing roles, but he is earnest and a good person at his core. From now on, you be the one to push his back."

It was a clear request from the colleague who had stood closest to Genau for years, the one he had leaned on as a "best friend." In this moment, Sense intentionally took a step back from Genau's side, completely yielding that special seat to Methode.

Deep within Methode's chest, a small but certain fire was lit.
Until now, she had merely tried to be a First-Class Mage worthy of Genau, someone he could trust. That was why she had held the mindset of a "guardian," watching over him from a step back. Whenever she experienced his rugged kindness, she had tried to be satisfied with simply letting her affection grow.

But Sense's mature actions and words fiercely awakened her possessiveness as a woman.
Waiting was no longer enough.
To capture that incredibly earnest man's heart, she couldn't just remain a good, understanding colleague; she had to take action of her own volition.

"Yes... I gladly accept."

Methode gently folded her hands over her chest and nodded with an alluring smile.
The heat dwelling in her eyes was no longer the kind tormented by jealousy or alienation.
It was the light of pure, unfathomable affection directed entirely at a single man.

Seeing Methode's resolute expression, Sense gave a wry smile, as if trying to hide her embarrassment.

"...I somehow feel like I've become his younger sister. Fussing over my clumsy older brother."
"Oh?"

Methode giggled and tilted her head.

"If anything... I think it makes more sense to say that you, the enlightened Sense-san, are the older sister, and Genau-san, who is so poor at expressing his emotions, is the 'troublesome younger brother'?"
"...Yeah. You're definitely right about that."

Seeing Sense nod deeply in agreement was so amusing that a bouncy laugh escaped Methode's lips. Between the two of them, walls and reservations no longer existed in the slightest.

"Methode, you truly... understand things perfectly."

Sense narrowed her eyes in satisfaction and defenselessly tilted her head toward Methode.

"You may pet me."
"Oh my...!"

At the unexpected reward, Methode's face brightened instantly.
Without a second thought, she reached out and began stroking the smooth grey head with a beaming smile.

"Fufu, thank you very much, big sister."
"...Right. Big sister."

While her fingertips cherished Sense's warmth, her thoughts had locked onto the image of one clumsy, incredibly endearing man.

(From now on, I will be the one standing by your side... I absolutely won't let you get away, Genau-san.)

Harboring a sweet resolve in her heart, Methode simply continued to smile quietly in the soft breeze of the courtyard.

-----

As the city of Äußerst was dyed in the colors of dusk, the cold night wind began to blow.
Having parted ways with Sense, Methode was walking down the corridor of the inn where she was staying.

Standing in front of her room was a familiar, large shadow.
It was Genau.
Looking somewhat lost, he stood frozen with his hand raised, caught right before he could knock on her door.

"Genau-san?"
"Methode... You were out."

As he turned around, his face reflected a mixture of relief and a slight bit of awkwardness.

"We nearly missed each other. Did you need something?"
"No... I just thought, perhaps, we could get something to eat together for once. That, and... I caused you a great deal of trouble..."

Averting his eyes, he haltingly strung together clumsy words.
Methode offered him a soft, airy smile.

"No. Not at all. Genau-san's feelings for Sense-san... I found them terribly endearing to listen to."
"...Are you angry?"
"I am not angry in the slightest."
"I see... That's good, then."

Phew. A breath of profound, heartfelt relief escaped Genau's lips.
Beneath his usual unsociable mask lay a man who was endlessly clumsy and earnest, yet kinder at his core than anyone else.

(Ah...)

Deep within Methode's chest, sweet, heated emotions swelled to their absolute limit.
She wanted to watch this side of him from right beside him forever. She wanted to support him from right beside him forever. She didn't want to hand him over to anyone else.
Unconsciously, a small murmur slipped from her lips.

"I really am... just so hopelessly endeared to you..."
"Hm? Did you say something?"
"No, nothing at all."

In the back of Methode's mind, the words Sense had told her when they parted in the courtyard resurfaced.

—'From now on, you be the one to push his back.'

Yes. That was right.
Pushing the back of a clumsy, troublesome person was always...
The duty of an older sister, after all.

"Genau-san."
"What is it?"

The moment Genau tilted his head in confusion.
Methode stepped forward, diving into the large man's chest, and wrapped both her arms deeply around his back.

"...!?"

It wasn't her usual light hug, filled with teasing or casual appreciation.
She surrendered her entire body weight to him, hugging him fiercely, terribly hotly, as if to directly absorb his body heat.
It was a clear transmission of will—entangling him so deeply as to ensure he could absolutely never escape.

Genau's stiff body jumped with a jolt.
But Methode paid it no mind. She rubbed her cheek against his thick chest and softly brought her lips to his ear.
With a sweet, heated sigh capable of completely melting away the rationality that had frozen over in the north, and painting the walls of earnest logic he had built up entirely white.

"I love you, Genau-san... so I believe I will claim the right to stay by your side forever."

She wanted this whisper, caressing his ear, to reach his very depths like a sweet magic.
Maintaining the embrace, she could feel his breathing grow ragged at point-blank range.

"...Did you hate it?"
"...N-No. Of course I didn't."

Genau's voice was terribly hoarse.
As always, he was a man who refused to blush.
However, his inability to simply hug her back—the restless hovering of his stiff arms in the air—was the greatest proof of just how thoroughly shaken and nervous he was.
By now, she had reached a point where she could read such emotions from him as easily as if she held them in her own hands.

"Fufu. I am glad."

Sensing her sweet whisper against his ear, Genau lowered his eyes as if he couldn't take any more, scratching the back of his head irritably. Methode peered up into his face, clearly savoring his reaction.

"...May we go get something to eat together, then?"
"No, well... Let's hold off on that for today."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"...Give me some time to organize my feelings."

It was an excuse perfectly fitting for an overly earnest man like him. While bewildered, Genau tried to gently peel Methode's body away from his. But Methode squeezed her arms even tighter, burying her face deeper into the crook of his neck.

"No."
"...Methode?"

They didn't directly meet each other's eyes.
But her softly whispering voice harbored a strong possessiveness, and a sweet resolve to absolutely never let him go.

"I will not give you time, and there is no need to organize your feelings."
"...Why?"
"...Because this is not the sort of problem where overthinking produces an answer."

The very words Sense had once used to bind him in place.
Now, Methode was using them as a sweet chain to entangle him.
She slowly raised her head, staring intently up at him from point-blank range.

Genau stood frozen in place, as if struck by a binding spell.
Eventually, he closed his eyes for a brief moment, and slowly opened them.
All traces of hesitation or the desire to flee had completely vanished from his gaze.

"...Right. You're exactly right."

A low voice sounding of surrender, yet incredibly gentle.
Genau's large hands, which had been wandering in the air, finally wrapped around Methode's back, while his other hand gently and tenderly stroked her hair.

"Can I... come inside?"
"Yes. Of course."

Along with Methode's melting smile, the two stepped into the room, their bodies practically overlapping.

Click.
The sound of the door shutting echoed through the corridor.

There was no longer any need to stand frozen, suppressing their hearts.
Their new relationship would all be spun from here on out.

From now on, behind closed doors.

Fin.

...Hey, Frieren.

If I could push the back of the true beloved who had to watch those two...

...Don't you think it would be amusing?