Frieren 14

Title: A Teacher and Student Both Suffering

At first, Ash thought there’d be some strange test to become a disciple, but it turned out… it was surprisingly easy.

He easily became a disciple, effortlessly obtained high-level demon magic from the Mythical Era, and stayed there, reading Serie’s other precious books.

The reason… wasn’t anything particularly special.

Serie had the power to end wars but chose not to. In fact, unless necessary, she wouldn’t attack demons.

From Ash’s research before coming here, elves had a weak sense of racial identity. Serie preferred maintaining a state of war over world peace. She’d only act if a major disaster struck… or perhaps not even then.

With such convictions, Ash took the risk to come here. Serie accepted him as a disciple simply because she found him interesting, and…

“Ash, since you’re my disciple and I have a new student, hurry up and prepare a grand feast to celebrate!” Serie, always eager to escape kitchen duties, waved her hand and unhesitatingly ordered her new disciple to work. However…

Ash, still reading her valuable book collection, looked up at her. He showed no intention of moving.

This annoyed Serie. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“No, I’m just wondering, are you serious, Serie?”

“What do you mean? I’m teaching you magic, and you won’t even cook for me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but I can’t. Of course, if you want to try demon-style cuisine, I don’t mind showing you.”

“Demon-style cuisine?”

“We usually eat raw, but can your stomach handle that? If you can, I don’t mind preparing it.”

Ash said something he wasn’t even sure of with a serious tone. He even stood, planning to prepare pork sashimi for her.

Serie thought about the taste of raw meat, and her face scrunched up. “F-Fine, I’ll handle it myself!”

“By the way, I’m actually different. I prefer cooked meat.”

“Who asked you! Get out! Eat your demon-style food outside!”

“No way. Besides, I can eat barbecue too.”

“…Are you deliberately refusing to cook? Are you trying to trick me?!”

“Trust me, I’m thinking of your health.”

Though Serie desperately wanted Ash to work, unfortunately… even after trying to make him cook, his food was utterly inedible.

She tried teaching him, but in the blink of an eye, three years passed…

“…Serie, add some chili. Trust me, this meat tastes great with chili!”

“No way, I don’t eat spicy food,” Serie said, flipping the pan and shouting without looking back. “And another thing! Why am I teaching you, but you’re the one giving orders??”

“Don’t be like that. Why fuss over small things between teacher and student?” Ash casually brushed off Serie’s dissatisfaction and added, “Reduce the salt; it’s too salty.”

“…You picky demon.”

“I’m worried you’re old; too much salt could raise your blood pressure.”

“…I’ve eaten like this for thousands of years, and I’m fine! Meanwhile, you’ve been here three years, and my blood pressure’s gone up!”

Why did teaching turn into improving her cooking skills, and then… her being responsible for cooking?

Though sometimes very boring, Ash’s ideas weren’t bad. But an inexplicable sense of emptiness frustrated her, and Serie turned to glare at Ash.

Used to Serie’s habits, Ash naturally raised his hands and backed away with a smile, trying to avoid being hit by his angry teacher.

Living off her hospitality had its limits. Though elves had high patience and a different sense of time from humans, by the third year, Serie couldn’t take it anymore and forced Ash to cook.

She even changed tactics, personally supervising him, secretly vowing to train Ash into a great chef so she wouldn’t have to cook anymore.

“…Yes! Flip it like that. Add more seasoning. Hey! Don’t think I didn’t see! No chili! If you dare add chili when I’m not looking, I’ll shove it all in your mouth!”

“You’re so harsh. But don’t you think our whole roasted lamb would taste better with a bit of spice?”

“I’m your teacher, and if I say no, it’s no! Don’t argue.”

Watching her disciple crouching by the grill, flipping it, Serie lifted her foot and lightly kicked his backside, deftly knocking away the chili powder he’d just grabbed.

“Tch, old people these days are so unreasonable…” Ash grumbled softly, clicking his tongue, then casually cut a lamb leg, wanting to taste it without chili.

But as soon as he cut it, his hand burned. He kept switching the lamb leg between hands to avoid burns. Instinctively, he turned and tossed it back: “—Quick! Quick! Serie!! Hot, hot, hot!! Take this!”

“Huh? Ugh—So hot~!! So hot~~~!!”

Serie didn’t have time to react, instinctively catching it. Her face twisted from the heat, and she juggled the lamb leg between hands before reflexively tossing it back.

Following the principle of not wasting food, Ash caught it again but quickly threw it back:

“No! Don’t give it to me! It’s too hot!”

“—Hot!! Hot?! You brat… you think I’m not afraid of heat?!”

After a few rounds, Serie finally snapped out of it. While juggling the lamb leg, she quickly froze it entirely and threw it to the ground.

After dealing with the scalding lamb leg, Ash couldn’t help wiping the cold sweat from his forehead: “Phew… That was close. My hands almost blistered.”

“…Yeah, you’re fine, but…” Serie’s face was livid. Her red, blistered hands hung in the air. She glared at him as if she wanted to strangle him on the spot, gritting her teeth: “—My hands are blistered!”