Chapter 41: FRIH - 41
Some time later, Ronan closed the thick magic book. The aged leather cover gave a soft creak under his hands as it shut, the heavy weight of the tome thudding quietly against the wooden table. The faint scent of aged parchment and arcane ink still lingered in the air. He closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, and marveled at the spell's power.
The rush of energy he'd felt while absorbing the runes still tingled faintly at his fingertips. Like a soft current running beneath his skin, the magic hummed quietly, as if now a part of him. No wonder it was essential for every mercenary group. The five gold coins were well spent.
The quiet murmur of conversation in the background barely registered as he stood, still digesting the flow of knowledge that had passed into his mind. He felt renewed—equipped with something truly valuable.
He was about to test it with Frieren when he noticed her hesitating in the corner.
The corner she'd chosen was dimly lit, the flickering crystal light from above casting long, flickering shadows across her slight form. Her posture was stiff, arms tucked close, eyes seemingly distant as if lost in her thoughts. There was a quiet tension around her—like the stillness before a storm.
He approached her, steps soft against the creaky floorboards, careful not to startle her.
"What's wrong?" he asked, voice low and even. "Still adjusting to the environment?"
Frieren's eyes flickered toward him, her gaze unreadable for a moment. Her lips parted slightly as if to speak, but she hesitated. There was a brief, nearly imperceptible moment where something passed through her expression—uncertainty, perhaps worry. She subtly patted her pocket, a barely noticeable motion, then shook her head and whispered, "No... nothing. Did you learn the detection spell?"
Her voice was steady, but Ronan sensed something buried beneath her calm exterior. She clearly had something on her mind.