Summer, 927 Before the Death of Himmel.
It was the very first day of Link and Flamme’s grand journey together.
The shade of green trees hung rich and heavy, and the breeze blew cool and soft as an unmanned ox cart slowly bumped its way up an empty slope through the mountains.
The long, gentle incline gave Flamme the chance to stand right up.
Gripping the wooden edge of the cart with both hands, she felt the entirety of the mountain forest rushing toward her.
The cool wind whistled past, puffing out the hem of her clothes as wild birds chimed together in natural harmony.
At the very horizon, in the depths of her bright, shining eyes, the faint silhouette of a town gradually began to emerge.
Yet, in stark contrast to Flamme’s initial spark of excitement at seeing a town for the first time, Link’s condition was the exact opposite.
Sprawled out entirely haphazardly on the cart, Link felt every single jolt of the wooden wheels and found himself desperately missing his afternoon naps back at Dragon Castle.
“Flamme, I forgot to feed the Stille back home. We can’t let those little guys starve to death, so how about we turn back?”
His voice carried the faint, hopeless struggle of a man clutching at straws.
Flamme didn’t even bother turning her head.
“You’d only end up feeding them into extinction.”
With his pathetic little scheme so mercilessly exposed, Link had no choice but to maintain a sullen silence.
Fortunately, the journey wasn’t long, and before long, the pair reached their destination: the city of Bandle.
After thanking the cart driver, master and disciple made their way into the settlement.
The marketplace flanking both sides of the city gates had already bustled to life.
White smoke billowed from the bakery’s chimney, and with a loud clang of the oven’s iron door, the rich aroma of wheat mixed with the sweetness of caramelized sugar chased passersby from one end of the street to the other.
Fruit vendors were shouting at the top of their lungs, hawking freshly picked berries.
The streets hummed with crowds weaving through clothing shops, weapon smithies, and magic stores—an overwhelming, bustling display of prosperity.
Link lugged their baggage with one hand while using his free hand to frantically pull the hood of his cloak lower and lower over his face.
The sunlight was blinding, and it had been far too long since he had seen so many people at once.
He urgently needed a cool, shady corner to drink something—anything—even if it was just black tea or Emperor liquor.
Flamme, on the other hand, was the complete opposite.
Her head darted left and right, wishing she had enough eyes to take in every single corner of the city all at once.
“Flamme, do you still remember our agreement?” Link’s voice sounded muffled from beneath his pulled-down hood.
“Of course I do.” Flamme withdrew her wandering gaze and pulled out a heavy pouch.
Inside was a full bag of gold coins—five hundred of them in total—which she had personally hand-picked from the treasure vault.
“Once our travel funds run out, our adventure ends,” she declared with absolute confidence.
In her mind, her master, who didn’t possess the slightest concept of money, definitely wouldn’t realize that this sum was enough for two people to travel and adventure comfortably for years.
Evidently, she had vastly underestimated her master.
While Link indeed lacked any concept of money, he possessed plenty of methods beyond raw strength; this stash of coins was destined not to last very long at all.
And so, another silent war between master and disciple officially commenced.
The bakery sat right on the street corner.
Displayed inside the window was a fresh row of warm, honey-crusted pastries, wafting out a constant breeze of butter mixed with roasted almonds.
Link had always possessed a sharp sense of smell, picking up the scent before they had even set foot in the city.
…Still, wasn’t bread supposed to be rock-hard?
Watching Flamme take bite after bite, Link swallowed his saliva heavily.
Can this stuff actually taste good?
No one could truly resist the temptation of sweets.
But while Link was still lost in deep tactical analysis, Flamme had already devoured almost all of the small pastry she bought.
“Master, do you want a bite too?” She offered, holding out the final remaining pastry.
Though Link desperately wanted to try it, as a master, it was his solemn duty to correct his student’s flawed choices!
“Flamme, you should eat fewer sweets. It’s bad for your teeth.”
Teeth, in a certain sense, were a reflection of one’s order in life.
Poor, messy, and uninhibited people were highly likely to end up with a mouth full of rotten teeth.
In Link’s memory, there was a certain demon who fit that description.
That particular demon had been tasked with hunting down Arde on the Northern Plateau.
Unlike the bloodthirsty demons who hunted him, that woman possessed the temperament of a scholar.
It was just that she reeked of rotting corpses, which was truly repulsive.
She seemed to be named Solitär—sounds just like some nobody.
“Master, I’ll split half with you. Besides, a dragon’s teeth shouldn’t get cavities anyway, right?” Flamme handed it over with a mischievous smile. Get faster updates on g.com.
“I am deeply gratified by your willingness to turn back from the brink,” Link accepted it solemnly, swallowing it whole in a single bite.
“…Why doesn’t it taste like anything?”
It would be a miracle if it had any taste at all.
This sweet treat was something Flamme had replicated using Magic to Duplicate Objects.
However, she couldn’t recreate things perfectly just yet—one of the magic’s clear drawbacks.
Given a bit more time to refine it, it should work fine.
Flamme finished her own remaining half.
Although she still wanted to buy more, she was genuinely worried about her teeth now.
Having no choice, she pinned her hopes on her master, looking up at Link with eyes practically glowing like stars.
“Master! Quick, use your invincible wisdom to invent a Magic to Cure Cavities!”
“Regrettably, while I do possess invincible wisdom, I’ve never even heard of such magic.”
The stars in Flamme’s eyes plummeted to the earth at a speed visible to the naked eye.
“However, I do have another method.”
“Please speak, Master!”
Link brandished a fist and declared firmly, “I know a martial art technique that knocks out all your teeth in one hit.”
“?”
That afternoon, inside the largest clothing boutique in Bandle City.
Flamme shuttled enthusiastically between the clothing racks, picking up dress after dress to hold up against herself, twirling ceaselessly in front of the mirror.
Link leaned lazily against a wooden pillar near the shop entrance, watching Flamme tirelessly try on outfit after outfit that, in his eyes, looked practically identical.
Humans lived such short lives, yet they always wasted their precious time on such meaningless trifles.
“Master, how about this one?” Flamme held up a long, white floral dress against herself.
The hem extended all the way to her ankles, and the collar was trimmed with a delicate ring of fine lace.
Link nodded repeatedly.
“That one’s great.”
“Did you actually look at it properly, Master?” Flamme eyed him dubiously, her face practically dripping with distrust.
Link adjusted his glasses, forcing the golden vertical pupils behind the lenses to open a bit wider.
“Of course I did. My glasses were forged by the finest blacksmiths.”
“I thought you’d be interested in dresses, Master.” Flamme cradled the dress in her arms, her tone carrying a subtle, probing edge.
“Do you think all men in this world are the same?”
I, Link, the strongest dragon alive, would never be tied down by such trivial things.
“Since you like it so much, I’ll buy this dress for you.”
“Really, Master?” Flamme lifted the dress up from her chest, her eyes lighting up with brilliant excitement.
“It’s just a gift.
Is there any need to get that happy?” Link didn’t quite grasp how humans felt about the concept of “receiving a gift.”
“This is the very first time you’ve ever given me a gift, Master.”
With that, she took a step forward, opened her arms wide, and hugged Link.
Link’s body went slightly rigid.
Being hugged felt exceedingly strange, yet undeniably comforting.
He committed this piece of knowledge to memory once more.
“In that case, I’ll buy you a magic item as well.” Stepping out of the clothing store, Link pointed to the magic shop across the street.
“I’ll pay for it too—it won’t come out of our travel funds.”
His generous tone took Flamme completely by surprise.
“Go pick something out first. I spotted an acquaintance, so I’ll join you in a moment.”
Flamme didn’t leave immediately.
Instead, she eyed him up and down with a look hovering somewhere between scrutiny and deep suspicion.
“Why are you looking at me with those weird eyes? Even a dragon like your master has a few friends!”
Link wasn’t lying; he really did have friends in Bandle City, though he certainly hadn’t seen any just now.
The second Flamme’s back vanished past the magic shop’s doorway, Link spun around stealthily and immediately ducked right back into the clothing boutique they had just left.
Looking left and right like a thief searching for a target, he began scanning the racks.
“Forgive my intrusiveness, sir…” the shopkeeper said gently, observing Link’s selection.
“The gown you are holding isn’t quite suitable for your daughter. It’s a bit more mature—a cut designed for an adult woman.”
“Then it’s perfect. I happen to be gifting it to an older sister who is senior to me.”
Inside the magic shop, Flamme was facing a predicament.
With clothes, you only had to hold them up to see if they looked good.
Judging the quality of magic items, however, required a completely different set of logic.
Put simply, magic items were “man-made objects sealing a specific magical function.” The maker etched mana circuits into the item, allowing the user to unleash specific magical effects like a true caster while expending only a minuscule amount of mana.
Magic was a world of visualization.
And the core of a magic item was a frozen snapshot of its creator’s imagination.
Every era had different magical aesthetics and logic; the closer an item was to the Mythical Era, the more unique its function and design became.
The more ancient the artifact, the closer that frozen imagination was to the true source of magic.
All of this was knowledge Link had taught Flamme.
However, he had never taught her how to discern the specific age of magic items—mostly because he rarely needed to make such distinctions himself.
Currently, Flamme stood before the store’s dazzling display shelves, holding an ancient-looking staff and examining it over and over.
“Little girl, you certainly have an eye for quality. That staff you’re holding is a genuine artifact from the Mythical Era.”
The shopkeeper was a tall, skinny old man wearing round-framed glasses.
The eyes behind the lenses narrowed into two shrewd arcs as he lazily crossed his hands behind the counter.
“It’s brand new.”
Just as Flamme opened her mouth to ask for the price, a familiar voice echoed from behind her.
Link had somehow appeared behind her, his tone carrying an unquestionable certainty.
“Not only is it brand new, but it’s indisputably modern.”
The shopkeeper’s brows furrowed slightly, though his professional smile didn’t slip an inch.
“My good sir, setting aside whether it’s new or not, just look at this craftsmanship!”
“This kind of technique didn’t even exist a thousand years ago.”
The shopkeeper opened his mouth, swallowing back the grand speech about “Mythical Era secret techniques” he had prepared.
“Bring out another batch.”
Seeing that Link was an expert, the shopkeeper stopped playing games and produced several more magic items from the Mythical Era.
“Change them.”
With just a single glance, Link pronounced a death sentence on the entire batch.
“No good. Change them again.”
And so, after swapping out inventory five times, Link finally delivered a different judgment.
“Let’s try another shop, Flamme. The magic items in this place aren’t even as old as I am.”
Seeing a sale walking out the door, the shopkeeper’s tone instantly turned foul.
Having spent half his life dealing in magic items in Bandle City, he had never encountered such a difficult customer.
“Kid,” he sneered hostility, “you don’t look like a local.”
“Why? Do locals get a discount?”
Link wasn’t about to humor him either.
Reaching out a hand, he prepared to use a Magic to Make People Sleep to settle the matter.
But considering Flamme standing right beside him, he forced himself to hold back.
Since he couldn’t use his fists, he could only rely on his handsome face.
He reached up and pulled down his hood, revealing a pair of long elf ears.
The shopkeeper recoiled in shock.
Not only was this guy not a local—he wasn’t even human!
Having resolved the issue peacefully, master and disciple stepped out of the magic shop.
Link glanced sideways at his pupil.
As expected, Flamme walked with her head down, clearly lacking her usual energy.
A magic shop overflowing with fake goods had thoroughly drained the girl’s romanticized anticipation of magic items.
Link put his half-a-brain to work and came up with a brilliant idea.
Leading Flamme in a brisk pace across the main street, he turned into a narrow alleyway entrance.
“There’s a shop right here. Every single magic item inside is real.”
Flamme trusted her master implicitly and walked straight inside without hesitation.
Naturally, Link hadn’t lied about the magic items; it was just that their travel budget of several hundred gold coins might not necessarily be enough to cover the bill.
He simply felt that letting Flamme believe there were no bad people in the world other than demons was a terrible thing.
Now, it was time for him, as her teacher, to give his student a proper lesson.