If you don't want to just drift through life, you have to go through time.

"Master Truman, what's wrong?"

"...What?"

"You suddenly spaced out, is something on your mind?"

"without."

Seeing Philon's concerned expression, Truman shook his head and said, "In short, Philon, your control over magic is extraordinary. Although rotating magic is difficult, the resulting improvement is enormous. It's undoubtedly a technique suitable for you, so study it diligently."

"Yes, I understand."

"In addition, while this move has powerful penetrating power, it also consumes a lot of magic power, so you have to master the timing when practicing it."

"I will."

Philon nodded seriously.

Seeing her serious expression, Truman couldn't help but pat her head. Phyllenhaal took his words to heart, and to be honest, Truman's feelings were somewhat complicated.

It's a good thing that she can absorb what I teach her well, but wouldn't that make her a mini-Truman? I always feel like I'm erasing her talent.

Well, let me tell you!

I'm not her teacher, am I? What is Philon's real teacher doing?

"Friland! Hey, Friland!... What are you spacing out for? Say something!"

"...Truman is right."

"Are you trying to provoke me?!"

Frillie responded slowly, her attention completely elsewhere. She sat on the roof of the dilapidated house, gazing into the distance, her silver twin tails swaying in the wind, lost in thought.

Truman stroked his chin.

"Hey Philon, hasn't Frilian been acting a bit strange lately?"

"Yes, I feel the same way."

"Right? She wakes up by herself every morning, doesn't stay up late reading magic books at night, and doesn't even buy those weird and wonderful magical items anymore. Isn't that amazing!?"

"That's amazing!"

The two of them huddled together, looking at Frillie as if she were looking at something incredible, their movements perfectly synchronized, like those of gods.

"I can hear you both."

Frillie jumped off the roof.

She dusted herself off and said casually, "No, I was just thinking about how to speed things up and get to the Demon King's Castle faster, since Truman's time is limited."

"Oh, I see."

Truman suddenly realized.

Frilian is an elf with an ancient lifespan, which is why she doesn't have a particular concept of time. Even if she doesn't want to work and takes a break, it will take her at least 10 years. So it's normal for Frilian to spend 3 to 5 years collecting magic on her way to the northern continent.

However, things are completely different now.

It's not that Frilian stopped collecting magic, but rather that she learned to prioritize.

For example, if you work for someone in exchange for magic, you'll consider it if it lasts more than a month, but you'll leave if it lasts more than half a year. It's like an open-world game with lots of side quests, but you're heading straight for the main storyline.

"I was wondering why you've been working so hard lately. Don't worry, Frillie. Didn't I tell you, just do what you want, I'll follow along. But when I feel I don't need to follow anymore, I'll leave on my own."

"...That's why I'm anxious."

"What did you say?"

"It's nothing. Well then, at my pace... perfect timing, there's a place we need to go, let's go there first."

"That's possible..."

Although they didn't know where it was, since they had already said that, the three of them changed direction slightly and headed towards the village that Frillie was going to.

During this time, Truman continued to teach Philon.

"Listen carefully, Philon. No matter how magnificent and powerful a mage's battle is, even if it involves complex strategic maneuvering, it will eventually turn into a wave-based attack. And at that time, you must be careful not to stand on the left."

"Why is that?"

"Because historically, the left side of the wave loses."

"...That's fallacious reasoning." Philon expressed his doubts, and also asked with some confusion, "Then, Lord Truman, which side counts as the left? You see, for people standing on either side, left and right are different, aren't they?"

For someone standing on the right, left is left; for someone standing on the left, right is left. How to distinguish between them has become a big problem.

"It's very simple, just look at it from the perspective of the audience."

"What if there are spectators on both sides?"

"The side with more audience."

"What if there are the same number of spectators on both sides, or what if there are no spectators on either side?"

"Of course—"

"Of course it is?"

Philon was somewhat expectant.

Truman, however, curled his finger and flicked Philon's fair forehead hard, shouting, "Of course, a flick to the forehead is the punishment! Philon, you ask too many questions!"

"That's outrageous, Mr. Truman. You always use this method to avoid problems you can't solve." Philon pouted, looking like a giant mushroom.

Who can blame Philon for being such a curious person?

Such probing and nitpicking questions are not suitable for the world of magic, since magic is based on idealism, while only science speaks of truth.

"Lady Frilian, what do you think?"

"That makes some sense."

"Are you in cahoots with Lord Truman too!?"

"No, I didn't believe it at first either, but how should I put it... Truman just kept insisting on it, and he was one of the twelve magicians who defeated me, so..."

World Truth:

If you win, everything you say is right; if you lose, everything you say is just an excuse.

Frilian was also skeptical of this statement, so she advised, "Philan doesn't need to listen to everything. A mage's battle is very complex. Timing, location, and position are all uncertain. If you insist on a certain condition, you will expose your intentions and put yourself in a passive position."

"I see."

Philon appeared to be listening attentively, yet she seemed to be taking Truman's words to heart.

The three's research on magic came to an end.

Three more days passed, and they arrived at a remote little village. It was hard to imagine that there would be a village so close to the forest and so far from the town.

The village looked very backward and poor, but there were several elderly people chatting at the door.

"Lady Frilian, this must be our destination. Are you here to collect some special magic?"

"No, it's for sealing."

That's what Frillian said.

Among the old men who had just been chatting, an old man wearing a straw hat came up to the three of them, or more precisely, to Truman.

The old man spoke with some uncertainty.

"Excuse me, are you Lord Truman?"

"...It's Truman, isn't it?"

That's a real surprise.

Although Truman is just as handsome as the readers, he pales in comparison to the more distinctive silver-haired twin-tailed elf, Frillian.

However, the old man recognized him at a glance, and—

"You've finally arrived."

His palms were spread apart but his fingers were facing each other, making a gesture similar to prayer, with a devout expression on his face.

What happened?