Chapter 50 — Serie's Fatal Mistake
The table was completely bare.
Not a single dish, not even a cup of water—
just emptiness stretched across the pristine white tablecloth.
And across from it sat the golden-haired elf, wearing a smile that was almost—but not quite—innocent.
Elias felt a familiar, unpleasant premonition crawl up his spine.
Even Flamme, Serie's own disciple, looked bewildered.
"Master Serie? Weren't you the one who invited us here for dinner?"
Serie rose calmly, her steps elegant and unhurried as she walked toward Elias.
Then, lifting her gaze, she stared straight into the demon's icy expression.
"I did say I wanted to invite you all for dinner," she said softly.
"But I never said…"
Her smile deepened.
"…who would be the one cooking."
Elias: (≖_≖'')
(≖_≖'')ノ «(=ω=)»
"Frieren. We're leaving."
"W–WAIT!!!"
Serie's mask cracked—her face twisting in panic for a split second before she forcibly reset it into calm elegance.
The speed and precision of the expression change made Elias think of a certain intangible cultural heritage from his past life.
"Elias…"
Her voice trembled with desperation.
"It's been two thousand years since I last tasted your cooking…"
"I've already prepared the ingredients. The kitchen is ready. Just waiting for your expertise."
Elias raised an eyebrow and sneered.
"So that's the reason you tricked us here? To cook for free?"
Serie: «(=ω=)»
"If I asked you directly, you'd refuse on the spot."
Elias released Frieren's arm.
"Then what benefit do I get?"
"Uh… you may pick one spell from my entire grimoire collection."
"Oh? Then I want a spell that can turn demons into humans."
"No such thing exists."
"Frieren, we're leaving."
(≖_≖'')ノ???
"…Frieren?"
Elias spun around.
And froze.
Frieren was not standing behind him.
She was gripping Serie's hand with both of hers, looking up at her with the shining determination of a devout saint.
"Grand-teacher…
Since Elias refuses to make mapo tofu…
I'll do it in his place!"
Serie: «(≖_≖'')»
"…And who might you be?"
"She's my disciple," Flamme quickly explained.
"Her name is Frieren. I picked her up on the northern battlefield and left her in a village near the capital to study magic."
"I see…"
Serie examined Frieren closely—pretending to look composed while her inner emotions roared like a storm.
So that's why Flamme has barely visited lately.
She got herself a disciple.
A very cute disciple.
An elf, even.
Serie circled Frieren with narrowed eyes.
The only flaw she could spot was…
Flat.
Completely flat.
But with that Very Convenient Breast-Size Alteration Spell she possessed…
Frieren could easily become a perfect being.
…Wait.
What if Frieren asks for that spell later?
If Frieren becomes even cuter, Flamme will abandon her master and dote on her disciple instead.
That would be… unacceptable.
Serie inhaled deeply.
"Frieren, is it true you can make mapo tofu?"
Frieren nodded eagerly.
"I've watched Elias cook it a few times! It didn't look that difficult!"
"How close can you get to his level?"
"Mm… maybe sixty or seventy percent!"
Series's eyes flickered.
Sixty or seventy percent of Elias's cooking…
That's practically top-tier cuisine.
"…Very well."
Serie straightened her posture and spoke solemnly:
"If you can make a passable mapo tofu, I will allow you to choose one spell from my collection."
"But—"
She suddenly pointed a finger.
"The Breast-Size Alteration Spell is off-limits!"
Frieren: «(=ω=)»
"That sounds like a powerful spell… Now I want it even more!"
Before anyone could stop her, the white-haired elf dashed into the kitchen at full speed.
Serie: «(ᇂ_ᇂ|||)»
"…What have I just done?"
Elias, who had fully intended to leave minutes ago, leaned casually against the wall.
An amused smile crept onto his lips.
Ten minutes passed.
Then Elias spoke, his tone dripping with anticipation.
"Serie…
You may not have realized it, but you've just made the most fatal mistake in your entire multi-millennia life."
Serie stiffened.
She had lived thousands of years and knew one thing for certain—
Elias never said such things lightly.
"…What do you mean, Elias?"
"Did Frieren lie to me?"
Elias chuckled darkly.
"Frieren didn't lie. She can replicate my cooking at sixty or seventy percent."
Serie let out a small breath of relief—
But Elias lifted a finger.
"But that six or seven out of ten…
only happens once in a hundred attempts."
Serie blinked.
"…And the other ninety-nine times?"
"Five."
Serie: «(´-ι_-｀)»
"Five is… still edible, I suppose."
"Four."
Serie: «(ᇂ_ᇂ|||)»
"…Why is it dropping?"
"Three."
Serie held her breath.
"…This can't be—"
"Two."
Elias bared his fangs in a wicked grin.
"One."
BOOOOM!!!
A thunderous explosion erupted from the kitchen.
Serie: Σ(ŎдŎ|||)ﾉﾉ
"W–W–WHAT just happened?!"
"It's only MAPO TOFU! How does cooking tofu cause an explosion?!"
Realizing disaster was unfolding, Flamme rolled up her sleeves.
"Master, don't panic! I'm going in to help!"
Her orange silhouette disappeared into the smoke-filled doorway.
Elias sighed, shaking his head with the exhaustion of one who's seen this tragedy many times.
"Serie… not stopping Flamme from going in was your second fatal mistake today."
"Because when it comes to cooking… she and Frieren are basically a matched set—
the Dragon and Phoenix of culinary catastrophes."
"...What did you just say?!"
Her words had barely left her mouth when—
——KRA-KOOOOOM!!!!
The entire floor trembled.
Serie froze, defeated.
She grabbed Elias by the sleeve, face pale, holding her growling stomach.
"Elias…"
"You go."
"And please fix the kitchen too. I will be eternally grateful…"
Elias: (≖_≖'')
"And the magic I want?"
Serie abruptly turned her back like a guilty child.
"I… happen to have a clue."
"Maybe… that person knows something."
Elias let out a long exhale.
"Shorty, is it really necessary to be this dramatic?"
Serie: «(*･ω･)»
"Cook the mapo tofu first~"
"…Hah. Fine. You win."
Elias stepped into the devastated kitchen.
A wave of his hands unleashed Flame-Extinguishing Magic and Smoke-Absorption Magic, clearing the blast marks and removing the black soot covering both teacher and disciple.
Once the chaos was neutralized, he ignited the stove, heating oil with smooth, practiced movements.
Ten minutes later—
A steaming bowl of bright red mapo tofu gently floated onto the dining table, fragrant with numbing spice and deep chili aroma.
"Shorty, if I remember correctly, you like it extra spicy and extra numb."
"Correct!" Serie's eyes sparkled.
"Elias! You still remember after all these years!"
"That's because you begged me to make it for you way too many times back then."
As Serie devoured the dish with unrestrained joy, Elias suddenly recalled—
Serie's true fatal weakness.
Whenever she enjoyed delicious food…
Her magic detection dropped to zero for an entire second.
Even someone verging on omniscience had vulnerabilities—
small, hidden cracks in the armor no one else knew existed.