Faced with Livale's fighting intent, Agusheed remained unmoved from beginning to end.
His index finger tapped lightly on the leather-bound cover of the Spell book.
Calmly, he watched Livale play with the Imperial Hell Dragon's severed head.
"You want to fight me here?"
"What else?"
Even after realizing Agusheed had no intention of fighting,
Livale still asked with amusement.
In response—
A plain, unadorned Severance cleave flashed out.
Crack—
It narrowly missed Livale, instead slicing clean through the other intact horn of the Imperial Hell Dragon.
Naturally, it split in two.
"I don't think it's necessary at all."
Agusheed raised his hand, signaling for Livale to observe the difference between their attacks.
"You've never beaten me. And if we really fight again, this time wouldn't be any different."
Livale didn't deny it.
He didn't question his own inferiority to Agusheed.
He acknowledged that when faced with Severance Magic, he would fare no better than the dragon.
But—
"For a warrior, fighting isn't just about winning or losing..."
He traced the faint scar he'd once left on the dragon's remaining horn.
Then clenched his fingers around it.
"You should understand that, Agusheed—"
Ripping off the horn with his bare hands, Livale looked up.
"To me, victory doesn't matter. What matters is whether I can fight freely and to my heart's content."
Had this been a battle-hardened warrior, they might've agreed with Livale.
Unfortunately, standing in front of him was an emotionless mage.
"Then you should go find His Majesty the Demon King."
Agusheed suggested dryly.
"With his personality, I doubt he'd refuse you."
"Spare me…"
Livale groaned, seemingly recalling a headache-inducing experience.
"If I bother His Majesty, Schlacht and Qual will curse me to death."
Agusheed raised an eyebrow and offered another truth.
"Compared to being cut down by my Spatial Severance, being 'cursed to death' doesn't sound so bad."
"Besides, don't you always pull back in the end? Just like the last twelve times?"
Confirming that Livale was shamelessly serious,
Agusheed raised a hand and fired off another Severance slash.
This one skimmed so close it cut several strands of Livale's hair.
"Don't you think that's an unreasonable request?"
But neither the slash nor the sarcasm seemed to faze Livale.
Quite the opposite—he looked even more delighted.
"Not at all. After all, we demons never had a thing called 'shame.'"
As Agusheed considered whether to give the laughing Livale a Spatial Severance for real—
Livale suddenly dropped all fighting spirit and lazily reclined on the dragon's severed neck.
"Forget it."
He said unexpectedly.
"Seems you really have no intention of fighting…"
"In just a hundred years, you've become so boring."
Squinting, Livale couldn't help but reminisce.
"The you from a century ago would never turn down my challenges."
Agusheed paused at that, but his expression didn't change.
"I'm busy now. No time to play with you."
"You were busy a century ago too."
"Now I'm even busier."
"Is that really it?"
Livale questioned.
"Or is it because of that human Archmage…"
"What was her name—Flamme? Did she change you?"
Agusheed raised two fingers—Livale recognized the stance well.
It was Spatial Severance.
"One more word, and I'll kill you."
Livale sat up, amused to see Agusheed finally show a crack in his facade.
"Trying to kill your old friend of 300 years over a few words. Brutal."
"Looks like His Majesty's worries weren't unfounded—"
That last line finally made Agusheed frown.
"His Majesty's 'worries'?"
"You didn't know?"
Livale easily spilled the Demon King's top secret:
"Schlacht and His Majesty agree—
There's a high chance that you, because of that human named Flamme, will stand against the demon race in the coming war."
"So to avoid forcing your hand, His Majesty decided to wait until that human dies before launching the full-scale war."
Having said all this, Livale studied Agusheed's expression.
"That's it?"
Agusheed asked, showing no emotional response.
"How laughable. You really think I'd fight for humanity?"
Livale couldn't tell if he was serious, so he didn't pursue it.
Instead, he asked the question that intrigued him most:
"Agusheed, is chasing 'emotion' really that important to you?"
Agusheed didn't answer.
Or rather, after hearing what Livale said about the Demon King's concern—
He treated Livale as if he didn't exist.
He turned, took Frieren—still hiding quietly behind him—by the hand,
And began walking back toward the path they came from.
"Not even a farewell?"
Livale sat on the dragon's head, calling out to the retreating Agusheed.
He didn't expect a response—
But to his surprise—
Agusheed, just before disappearing into the woods, turned his head slightly.
"About my child…"
"Thanks for going easy on her, back then."
A… thank-you?
But—
That wasn't necessary at all...
Watching Agusheed disappear with that short white-haired elf in tow,
Livale lay back on the dragon's skull and stared at the blazing sun.
"If I hadn't sensed your mana lingering on her back then—
I'd never have followed some half-baked mage all the way from the Etwas Mountains to the human capital…"