Chapter 17 – Does the Goddess Know You Drink This Much?
Holy City – Strahl, Marketplace District
"Elias, I want this one."
Frieren pointed up at a bottle perched on the top shelf, filled with a viscous green liquid that oozed unsettlingly.
Elias followed her gaze.
[Pure Nasal Extract of the Green Demon Boar]
He exhaled slowly.
Here we go again.
That insufferable collecting obsession of hers.
He opened his mouth to say no—
But before he could speak, the shopkeeper—a thin man with shifty eyes—appeared right behind Frieren, voice oozing with salesmanship.
"Oh, what impeccable taste, young lady!" he exclaimed.
"This, dear elf, is none other than the original mucus essence of a Green Demon Boar—an exceptionally rare magical material! As a potion base, it produces an odor so foul it's said to drive even ghosts away!"
Frieren's eyes lit up like twin emeralds.
"Really?! That amazing?"
"I swear it upon the name of the Goddess herself!" the shopkeeper boomed, dramatically clutching his chest.
"And for you, fair lady, I'll offer it at half price—only three Strahl gold coins!"
"Deal! I'll—mmph!"
Before she could finish, Elias clamped a hand over her mouth, grabbed her by the collar, and with a polite smile to the merchant, dragged her toward the door.
"Sorry. We'll pass."
The shopkeeper blinked, utterly baffled.
Only when they were back on the street did Elias release her. He looked down at her blank, sulking face with weary patience.
"Frieren, we're here to buy essential magical supplies."
«(=_=)»
"Three Strahl gold coins could cover months of living expenses."
«(=_=)»
"And that snot extract has zero practical value."
«(=_=)»
"Ugh… are you seriously using that pitiful, bullied look on me right now?"
«(=_=)»
Elias sighed heavily.
Flamme had been right—this girl was as stubborn as granite.
Words alone couldn't move her. Push too hard, and she'd probably throw a full-blown tantrum on the street.
Just imagining that scene made him shudder.
Even when facing the ancient demon Missol years ago, he hadn't felt this kind of fear.
Then, softly—barely audible—Frieren spoke.
"Because today… is my birthday."
Elias froze mid-thought.
Birthday?
What did that even mean again?
He blinked, tilted his head slightly, and said the first thing that came to mind:
"So?"
«(=_=)»
"…Nothing. Let's go home."
— — —
On the carriage ride back to the village, Elias didn't glance her way once. He didn't notice the silence that filled the air, nor the faint disappointment that clung to her like mist.
She just sat there quietly, staring out the window, the usual spark in her eyes gone.
When they arrived home, she walked straight to her room, shut the door, and locked it.
Only then did Elias feel a flicker of unease.
Birthday…
Was that… important?
He rubbed his temples, frustrated.
He really didn't understand.
Maybe the village chief would know.
"…Guess I'll go ask."
"W–What did you just say?! It's Miss Frieren's birthday today?!"
The village chief's eyes widened to the size of saucers. Forgetting the pain in his leg, he hobbled in frantic circles around the room, pounding his cane against the floor.
"Lord Elias! How could you not mention something this important sooner?!"
"What do we do now—it's already sunset! We have to send her a birthday gift before midnight—"
"There's no time to lose! I'll gather the villagers right away. Hopefully we can still prepare something worthy!"
Before Elias could even respond, the old man had already bolted out the door, leaving him standing there in silence.
He blinked, watching the village chief's hurried back disappear into the street.
So birthdays are… that important?
But why?
Why didn't he have any memory of ever celebrating one himself?
Or—wait.
"Ugh…"
A flash of memory pierced through his mind—
a scene from three thousand years ago.
A grand banquet in a noble's estate. Crystal chandeliers glittering overhead.
The lord's birthday celebration.
Serie swayed slightly under the lights, a glass of wine in hand, the liquid shimmering like melted gold.
Across the glass, Aivis's reflection smiled helplessly.
"Serie, that's your eighth glass. Are you sure you're fine?"
"You—hic!—a so-called teetotaler sage, daring to question my capacity for wine?!"
Her cheeks were flushed crimson, voice booming with pride.
"But fine, I'll admit—it's thanks to you, great Sage, that we were even invited tonight. Aivis, this one's on me."
Aivis chuckled softly. "I merely invented a spell to forcibly wake people up—it cured the lord's daughter's oversleeping. Hardly a grand feat."
He gazed around at the sea of guests, music, and laughter.
"The city lord really went all out. So many people, just for his birthday."
Serie hummed lazily. "So what?"
Next to her, Elias sat stiffly, staring at his glass with detached indifference.
"I just don't understand," he muttered. "What's worth celebrating about being born?"
"...Hic! Actually, I don't really get it either," Serie admitted, nodding drowsily.
"But as long as there's food and wine, I'm not complaining."
"You two can't be serious," Aivis said, nearly dropping his drink.
"For humans, a birthday is the most important day of the year! Don't elves or demons celebrate at all?"
Elias smiled faintly.
"Technically, every living being has a birthday. The issue is, Serie and I were born many millennia ago. After so many years, the memory of that day fades."
He leaned back, voice quiet but steady.
"In the end, I just… happened to open my eyes and find myself in this world. That's all. Such a ridiculous day hardly seems worth celebrating."
"Heh… I'll drink to that," Serie slurred, barely keeping her balance.
"So that's how you two see it…"
Aivis fell silent, a faint, complicated look in his eyes.
He didn't agree—but he understood.
Being born wasn't always a blessing.
It could be cruel, too.
And yet…
"At least," Aivis said softly, "we can enjoy the moment."
He suddenly grabbed a bottle of wine and shoved it into Elias's hand.
Then, to their astonishment, he uncorked another bottle—
and downed it in one continuous gulp.
"Gulp, gulp, gulp…"
Elias: Σ(ŎдŎ|||)ﾉﾉ
Serie rubbed her eyes in disbelief.
«(ㅍ_ㅍ)»
"Am I drunk… or did Aivis just outdrink me?!"
"Damn it… does the Goddess know her saintly sage can drink like that?!"
"Ah, who cares anymore!"
She raised her glass high and stumbled toward Elias, clinking bottles with him.
"Come on, old man! Drink with me!"
"Important or not, it doesn't matter! Just enjoy the moment!"
— — —
After that, the memories blurred into chaos.
All Elias could recall were two lunatics—
one with golden hair, standing on the banquet table waving a bottle, shouting about exterminating every demon in the world;
and another flipping through a grimoire, complaining that the mood wasn't exciting enough—before deciding to cast [Goddess Magic: Hundred Blades of Light] indoors "for atmosphere."
As for what he did that night?
Elias chuckled faintly to himself.
He had absolutely no idea.