On the second day after the return of Archmage Flamme—
By the afternoon, an explosive piece of news shook the entire Imperial Capital.
The nobles and politicians felt they must still be dreaming.
The palace magicians gathered together, finally understanding what their teacher meant yesterday with the words: "You will understand soon enough."
Even the Emperor, who had long remained secluded in the palace, was utterly astonished. He sent emissaries specifically to Flamme to verify the authenticity of the news.
When Flamme confirmed it,
The Emperor officially announced to the entire Imperial Capital:
"Archmage Flamme—will hold her wedding ceremony today at the Imperial Grand Cathedral."
Unsurprisingly—the Imperial Capital became even livelier than the day before.
The people of Eiseberg simply decided to extend the festivities for another day.
But unlike the bustling celebrations that nearly lifted the entire city,
The Imperial Grand Cathedral, where the two protagonists of this event were, remained eerily silent.
In that grand and magnificent cathedral, there were only four people standing.
There should have been five.
But the Imperial High Priest, who originally intended to preside over the ceremony,
Immediately chose to leave upon seeing that legendary golden figure recorded in myths.
He could clearly sense the malice radiating from that person.
To avoid any potential catastrophe, the High Priest cleverly found an excuse to escape the place of turmoil.
As the elderly priest shuffled far away from the Imperial Grand Cathedral,
He turned back, looking at the cathedral he had guarded for most of his life, and couldn't help but worry for his old friend's safety.
"Although I've long heard that Archmage Flamme's teacher is the one from the legends…"
"To see it with my own eyes is still hard to believe."
"I just hope that one doesn't lose her temper—"
Recalling the tales from the Mythic Era, the old man sighed with deep concern.
At that moment, inside the Imperial Grand Cathedral—
Agusheed sat on a pew in the center of the cathedral, dressed in the new clothes Flamme had somehow found for him.
He quietly waited for Flamme and Frieren, who had gone to retrieve the wedding rings.
"Human thoughts are truly hard to comprehend."
"To live in the Imperial Capital for just ten years, we need to pretend to be a married couple?"
He still couldn't understand how Flamme came up with such a bizarre idea.
But since she had said it was the simplest way, Agusheed agreed to it.
After all, it was only ten years.
During their last ten-year journey, they had pretended to be married plenty of times to avoid certain troubles.
While Agusheed was reminiscing,
The unrestrained malice emanating from nearby forced him to turn his head.
He looked down, very uncomfortably, at Serie, who had been glaring daggers at him the whole time.
"One hundred and fifty years have passed. Could you maybe not look at me with that 'I really want to kill you right now' expression?"
Serie, seated on the bench, sneered, completely ignoring Agusheed's request and not caring about his discomfort.
The sheer amount of magic she radiated far surpassed his own. She narrowed her eyes and spoke:
"Understand your situation, demon…"
"If it weren't for Flamme, do you really think you'd be alive and sitting here?"
Even though Agusheed was far from Serie's equal,
He had known from the start that Serie wouldn't kill him.
After all, if she had truly wanted to, she would have done it last night from a distance.
So Agusheed didn't back down. Faced with Serie's immense magical pressure, he stood firm.
"In fact, if it weren't for Flamme's request, I wouldn't have chosen to face you alone—"
"Normally, if I were to meet you, I'd invite His Majesty the Demon King to accompany me. That's my style."
Serie tilted her head back, her gaze growing more dangerous as she stared at Agusheed's calm face.
"You think if I really wanted you dead, the Demon King could stop me?"
Agusheed waved his hand modestly, forcing out an awkward human-like smile:
"But I do believe that if I and His Majesty the Demon King joined forces, while we might not capture you, we could certainly kill you."
It was pure provocation—bordering on suicidal.
But Serie showed hardly any reaction.
She just gently swung her feet back and forth.
"You've become much more arrogant than you were a hundred and fifty years ago…"
"Is it because you've grown stronger, or did that little rescue of Flamme from the Demon King give you confidence?"
Serie raised her index finger and pointed directly at Agusheed.
His expression remained unchanged.
"Maybe a bit of both."
Then, right before his eyes, a mass of jet-black magic formed at Serie's fingertip,
Condensing instantly into a dense ball.
"Logic tells me that you are dangerous, and the longer you live, the more dangerous you become."
"Although you despise slaughter now, on your path to finding emotions, no one can guarantee that you won't change your principles in the future."
"As a teacher, I should correct my disciple's mistakes…"
But Serie stopped speaking halfway through. The dark magic at her fingertip also slowly dissipated.
Flamme and Frieren had returned.
Seeing what had just happened, Flamme sighed helplessly.
"I'm pretty sure I told you two not to fight when I'm not around, right?"
She feigned anger and marched up to the two, scolding them loudly.
And the strongest high-ranking demon and the greatest Archmage of the current era both fell silent.
They only glanced at each other, and the previous tension dissolved.
"Hurry up and get this over with. I'll officiate in place of the priest,"
Serie paused for a moment, then glanced at the white-haired elf standing next to Flamme and added:
"And let's finish this boring wedding quickly. I'm already sick of seeing the three of you."
Understanding the nature of the prideful elder mage, Flamme didn't say anything more.
She only smiled helplessly as Serie turned her head away and walked toward the front of the cathedral.
Flamme reached out her hand, allowing Frieren to hold her as they walked toward Serie.
When she stood before the statue of the Goddess in her pure white wedding dress,
Under Serie's watchful gaze that screamed, "I wish I could kill him right now,"
Agusheed finally stood up and walked toward the statue.
When he reached Flamme's side, Frieren, standing between them, handed them the two wedding rings.
Although Serie had cut down the priest's lengthy monologue to just two words,
None of the three present seemed to mind.
Two of them didn't really understand what a "wedding" meant.
The only one who cared—Flamme—was already mentally prepared.
After all, Serie attending at all was already a miracle; the rest of the details could go her way.
When Serie's voice fell—
Neither Flamme nor Agusheed hesitated.
They slowly placed the rings onto each other's ring fingers.
Serie visibly struggled with herself, but in the end, she closed her eyes and said:
Agusheed would still vividly remember that sunny afternoon.
He would remember the Imperial Grand Cathedral, beneath the statue of the Goddess—
Flamme in her pure white wedding dress, eyes gently closed, waiting for him to lean down and kiss her…