Chapter 25 – The Whistle Only Dogs Can Hear
Flamme's teeth ground audibly. Her left hand seized Elias by the collar, and with her right she pressed a gleaming dagger against his throat.
Her voice trembled with fury.
"Damn you, Elias…"
The cold glint of steel reflected in his golden eyes, but Elias only tilted his head in mild confusion.
"Wait—Flamme, since when does a mage use knives?"
"Since the moment," she snarled, "I decided I wanted to cut you into a thousand pieces!"
Her orange hair flared into a furious crimson blaze.
"Elias! I entrusted my precious, talented disciple to you—and you've turned her into a useless little piglet who spends her days eating and lazing around!"
"…Hmm."
Elias's expression went blank.
"That's an exaggeration. She's not useless. Just… mildly round."
As if summoned by fate, a perfectly spherical object that looked suspiciously like Frieren rolled slowly across the floor beside them.
"…Ah," Elias said with a straight face. "Perhaps you have a point."
"Elias—die!!!"
The blade thrust forward—
—and then Elias jolted awake.
The morning sun poured through his curtains. Birds were chirping outside. His pulse was still hammering.
"…A dream?" He exhaled slowly. "Somehow, that feels… uncomfortably accurate."
Running a hand through his hair, Elias sighed again. The image of Flamme's murderous glare lingered vividly in his mind.
He thought back on Frieren's time in the village so far.
Roughly eighty percent of it had been spent on utterly pointless errands—like searching for missing cats.
The rest of her days were supposedly "training" under him, though most of that involved her tagging along on monster hunts… only to crouch behind him whenever danger appeared.
If the creature was nearly dead, she'd scurry out to deliver a token finishing blow—before immediately losing her mind at the sight of a treasure chest.
Even when his detection magic identified it as a mimic, she'd ignore him completely, eyes sparkling like a fool.
"Elias," she'd argue, patting the chest lovingly, "your Mimic Identification Spell is only 99% accurate! This is that one-percent exception! I can feel it—the magical resonance of a once-in-a-century discovery!"
And every single time, her noble declaration ended with the sound of snapping jaws and a muffled shriek—
followed by Frieren dripping in mimic saliva.
If not for Flamme's gift—a hairband laced with potion that makes mimics vomit—Elias would've long since died of exhaustion rescuing her.
He rubbed his temples, lost in thought.
"…Has it gotten so bad that Flamme's spirit is now visiting me in my dreams to scold me?"
He could almost picture it—her eyes blazing, dagger in hand.
If he truly failed to raise her disciple properly, she'd probably make that dream a reality.
Still… he found himself wondering.
What would that woman look like if she ever lost control?
Would she still be proud and sharp-tongued?
Or maybe… a little cute, when angry?
"—Ahem."
Catching himself, Elias coughed and shook the thought away before it went any further.
Either way, he decided, things couldn't go on like this.
From today onward, he needed to take action.
Descending the stairs, he was greeted by a faint rustling noise from the storage room.
It sounded exactly like someone—
or more accurately, a certain white-haired elf—
trying (and failing) to be sneaky.
Without hesitation, Elias activated his clairvoyance spell—and immediately felt a wave of despair wash over him.
He sighed, pressing two fingers against his temple.
"…Here we go again."
Through his magical sight, he saw Frieren sitting cross-legged in the middle of her "treasured collection" of bizarre magical trinkets, rummaging through them with childlike enthusiasm.
"♫ Hmm~ which one should I try today?" she hummed.
"Let's see… the fan that lets you smell your own bad odor… the lantern that shoots fire when you light it… the wig that can change shape freely…"
Then she gasped in delight, picking up a small whistle.
"Wait a second—this is that gift from the villagers! 'The Whistle Only Dogs Can Hear!'"
Her eyes sparkled.
"Why not try this one today?"
She cheerfully tied a thin cord through it and hung it around her neck.
«(=ω=)»
"Now… which house in the village has dogs again?" she murmured to herself.
"Oh right! Hunter Colt has a few hounds at home!"
—BANG!
The door burst open with a violent kick. A tall, shadowy figure stepped into the room, the air instantly growing heavy.
Frieren froze.
Her hands instinctively shot up in surrender.
"M-morning, Elias… You, uh… you're radiating a lot of dark energy today. You sure you're not a demon?"
Elias's deadpan expression didn't change.
"Frieren. I am a demon. Did you forget?"
He stepped closer, voice dropping to a menacing whisper.
"And do you know what demons love to eat most of all?"
Frieren swallowed hard.
"…C-candy?"
"Children," he said flatly. "Especially plump little elves with soft, tender skin like you."
Frieren: «(=_=)»
"The great demon of the mythic age… finally reveals his savage nature," she whispered dramatically.
"Master Flamme… sending me here was a terrible mistake. My brilliant life ends… here and now."
Elias: (´⊙_⊙`)!!
"I was joking!"
Frieren shot him an icy glare. «(≖_≖'')»
"Not funny. Don't do it again."
Elias took a deep breath and leveled his gaze at her.
"You've set your sights on earning the Holy Emblem, haven't you? Then why are you wasting time with all this worthless junk?"
"Of course I'm serious about it!" she shot back immediately.
"Serious?" Elias's tone hardened. "At this rate, with only two years left before the selection, you won't even pass the first trial."
Frieren blinked innocently. «(･ω･)»
"Elias, it's five years."
"…What?"
She spread her hands, smiling smugly.
"You really are out of touch. How long's it been since you've been to the Holy City? There was an announcement last month—because of the ongoing war, Serie postponed the selection by three years."
Elias's jaw tightened.
That old dwarf… Was she stalling on purpose just to spite him?
He exhaled through his nose. "Even so, five years isn't much. Earning the Holy Emblem in that time would still be a miracle."
"Frieren, if you truly want to create a miracle, you'll have to start by abandoning your childish desires. Understand?"
Frieren: «(･ω･)»
"Then I've got one last wish before I start being all serious."
She held up the whistle with both hands, eyes shining.
"I just really want to know if this thing truly can only be heard by dogs."
Elias: (ᇂ_ᇂ|||)
"…You're impossible."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, then sighed in resignation.
"Fine. Once. And only once."
He raised a hand and muttered a spell.
A surge of mana rippled through the air—then with a flash, Elias's tall figure shrank and warped into that of a large black dog.
Frieren gasped in awe. d(ŐдŐ๑)»
"Elias! You're amazing! I'm… I'm honestly touched!"
"Woof! Woof!"
"What? Can you say that again, but, you know, in human?"
"Stop stalling and just blow the whistle!"
«(⊙ω⊙)» "O-okay! Private Marseille!"
Under the intimidating stare of the big black dog, Frieren took a deep breath and blew.
No sound reached her ears. But Elias's canine form suddenly perked up, his ears twitching sharply.
"How is it?" she asked eagerly. "Did you hear anything?"
Elias transformed back into human form, brushing imaginary dust off his cloak.
"I did. Loud and clear. Satisfied now?"
"Yay!!!"
Frieren jumped up in joy, clapping her hands. Her face glowed with pure, childlike pride.
Then, with a sly little smile, she added,
"But you know, Elias… you were kind of cute as a big dog."
"Enough!" he barked, face instantly darkening.