Ronan’s voice was low, and Frieren, caught up in the mood he set, parted her lips slightly, at a loss for what to say.
She raised her palm a little, then lowered it again, letting out a sigh: “As long as you have confidence, that’s good.
But before you start learning, I should remind you—magic is a world built on imagination.” “So, confidence is an emotion that matters a great deal in the process of learning magic.” “If you lose your confidence, if you can’t imagine it clearly…” “Then no matter how simple the spell is, no matter how much effort you put in, you’ll never be able to cast it.” As she spoke, Frieren walked barefoot over to the door.
The dim, yellow candlelight flickered unsteadily, casting shifting light and shadow across her pale face, lending her an air of mystery.
She paused for a moment, one hand resting lightly on the wooden door handle, and continued: “That’s more or less it.
Go ahead and take a look around for now.” “I’ve got some things to take care of, so I’ll head out.” “There’s food in the first room on the left…” Thud.
A soft sound, and the door closed.
Once Frieren had vanished from sight, Ronan slowly sat back down in his chair.
He looked at the grimoires laid out before him and gave a slight shake of his head.
“With Infinite Talent activated, I wonder how it’ll actually perform.
Come to think of it…
what was that white energy drifting around Frieren?” “Battle aura?
Or magic power?” Knowing so little about this world, Ronan mulled it over for a moment before giving up on digging any deeper.
He could afford to act slow-witted, but not outright ignorant—like a modern man wandering the street asking what a car was…
Say something like that out loud, and people would think you were either a fool or mentally unwell; this world clearly had no concept of short-form videos or the like.
“Hah…” His thoughts gradually settled, and Ronan let out a breath, refocusing his attention on the book.
With a touch of curiosity, he gently opened it.
He’d assumed the contents would be dense and obscure, that he might not even be able to read the script.
But as it turned out…
“Hm…
I can actually read this.
Guess the elves aren’t that old-fashioned after all—someone must have already translated the ancient text into the modern script.” Ronan examined the cover and the paper closely and noticed they were both fairly new…
which explained things.
If the ancient script hadn’t been translated, modern elves would have had a far harder time learning magic—several times more difficult, at least.
Not bad, he thought, nodding lightly, quite satisfied, and kept reading.
Then he noticed something else.
Perhaps due to the influence of Infinite Talent, Ronan felt as though he’d turned into some kind of academic prodigy.
Just skimming a single line was enough for the knowledge to imprint itself directly into his mind—impossible to forget even if he tried.
He was surprised at first, but Ronan quickly composed himself, careful not to let his expression slip.
Still, despite his efforts, a faint smile crept unconsciously onto his face.
Over the time that followed, he sank deeply into his reading, completely losing track of time, absorbing knowledge like a sponge.
At the same time, the magic power within his body kept growing without pause.
—Until.
Creak~ Frieren gently pushed the door open and stepped back inside, and the sight before her made her gasp.
Magic power was pouring off of Ronan so thickly it seemed on the verge of blowing the room apart…
She quickly cried out in warning: “Hey, what are you doing?” “Don’t do something this dangerous inside the house!” “Don’t you know how to hold back your magic power?” “Magic power?” Frieren’s words snapped Ronan abruptly back to himself.
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away from the grimoire, thinking to himself—so that was it, just as he’d suspected.
The Talent he’d boosted covered everything across the board: magic aptitude, magic power itself, and even the sense of magic power.
He tried reining it in a little and found he could control the output of his magic power with perfect ease.
So there was a talent for magic control too, it seemed.
The sensation felt incredible—almost as if he could do anything.
Though Ronan knew full well this was just an illusion; he’d only boosted his talent, not his actual magical strength.
—Because he hadn’t learned a single spell yet.
Still, even so, it was a rather remarkable achievement.
After all…
In the mere few hours Frieren had been gone, he’d already gotten through roughly a third of the books in front of him.
Compared to Frieren’s ten years…
At this moment, only one thought crossed Ronan’s mind.
—Cheats really were unreasonable.
…
“Honestly, good thing I came back in time.
If you’d blown my house apart, what would you even use to pay me back?” Frieren muttered under her breath.
With her staff in hand, she swiftly and expertly tidied up the room, which had been thrown into some disarray by the surge of magic power, all while glancing sideways, her eyes sweeping briefly over the grimoire in front of Ronan.
Just one glance was enough for a flicker of confusion to cross her eyes.
He’d read through this much already?
Honestly, one look and she could tell he hadn’t read it properly.
If it had only been a few pages, she might have believed Ronan was genuinely studying magic in earnest.
But a full third all at once…
She was an elf, not an idiot—how could she possibly believe that?
She gave a faint mental shake of her head.
Though disappointed by what seemed like Ronan’s carelessness, thinking it over, even she herself, faced with this many books back in her day, hadn’t managed to sit still and focus for the first several days either.
Flipping through carelessly was only natural.
She shouldn’t expect too much.
Because humans were creatures with remarkably short lifespans, constantly changing their goals in an attempt to make their lives feel fuller.
Ronan…
this unreliable Hero, was probably no exception.
—All of this was what the elders had told her, long ago.
Frieren blinked slowly, a tangle of complicated thoughts flickering beneath her cool, detached expression.
Once she’d finished tidying the room, she turned to Ronan with a serious expression and warned him not to do anything this dangerous ever again.
Learning magic couldn’t be rushed.
Losing the house was a small matter, but if he hurt himself and it disrupted the plan to defeat the Demon King, she’d bear no small part of the blame.
Ronan nodded lightly, looking rather helpless.
That afternoon, he’d thought Frieren was just an innocent little girl.
Now, it was clear she was basically a fussy old grandmother…
Come to think of it…
how old was she, exactly?
Never mind.
Better not dig too deep into that question.
The thought that elves’ bodies remained undeveloped even past a hundred years old, not reaching full adult form until they were several hundred, even several thousand years old…
Just thinking about it made him feel a little sad on their behalf.
A child’s world could never be as fun as an adult’s.
…
Once she’d finished lecturing him, Frieren left.
Before leaving, she made sure to take the grimoire with her, so as not to risk another mishap while she was asleep.
In the blink of an eye, morning arrived.
Lying in bed, Ronan had just opened his eyes and instinctively reached to his side, wanting to check the time.
He reached out, then suddenly laughed.
“What am I even doing.” Shaking his head lightly, Ronan found it a little absurd—here he was, having transmigrated to another world, and he was still unconsciously thinking about clocking in for work…
That was a bad habit.
He needed to break it.
Starting today.
He got up and washed up.
This era had no toothpaste, so coarse salt had to do instead—not bad, really, as long as it wasn’t charcoal powder.
He genuinely couldn’t picture a clean, fastidious elf brushing their teeth with charcoal.
Wiping the water off his face, Ronan grabbed a piece of bread from the kitchen on his way out.
When he reached the living room, he glanced upstairs—toward Frieren’s room.
The door was shut tight, a wooden nameplate hanging outside; she probably wasn’t awake yet.
He gave it a passing glance and thought nothing more of it, pushing open the front door.
A wide expanse of green filled his vision.
Amid the greenery, a group of elves bustled about the village, a steady hum of noise filling the air.
The air was still wonderfully fresh.
Ronan took a deep breath.
Just then.
He saw the village chief from yesterday walking toward him.