Starting the Strategy from Frieren

"Ephemeral Dreams isn't just any illusion," Serie explained. "Even if you realize it's fake, you can't escape it. It's like a lucid dream—only death can break it."

"And if you die in the illusion, the fragment of your soul trapped on the ancient battlefield will perish in reality as well," she added casually.

Ivan's face twisted with panic before he slammed his hands on a table that appeared out of nowhere. Pointing dramatically at Serie, he exclaimed, "Wait a second! There's a massive flaw in your logic!"

Serie raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"If dying in the illusion affects reality, and the only way to escape is by dying... why on earth would you risk entering it yourself?!" Ivan demanded.

Serie sighed, clearly displeased but honest as ever. "I'll admit, this spell is incomplete. I accidentally got dragged into it myself. If I could use magic in here, I could leave easily. But your world, devoid of mana, caught me off guard. Even elves here exist only as mythical creatures."

After a moment, she continued, "If you manage to kill me within the illusion before you die, my soul fragment will perish as well. But the illusion will still persist, and you'll age and die here regardless. It's a lose-lose situation. So, what do you say? Care for a duel?"

Despite her petite stature—she looked no older than an elementary school student—and the apparent loss of her powers, the killing intent she radiated froze Ivan in his tracks. For a moment, it felt like the entire lake and its surroundings fell silent under her pressure.

No way! Ivan thought. A duel with her? That'd be suicide!

"Let's keep things civilized," he muttered nervously. "On Blue Star, violence doesn't solve anything unless it's absolutely necessary."

He paused to gather his thoughts, relying on his ancestors' wisdom: never pick a fight you couldn't win or profit from.

"Besides," Ivan continued, raising his palms in a gesture of peace, "wouldn't it be a waste of time constantly outsmarting and fighting me? Wouldn't you rather spend that time reading a few more books?"

Serie glanced at the book in her hands. Her expression softened, and the invisible tension in the air began to fade.

Sensing an opening, Ivan seized the moment. He raised his right hand solemnly and pointed his left toward the artificial lake. In a dramatic, almost theatrical tone, he declared:

"I swear upon this artificial lake that I will not harm Classmate Serie in this illusion. Whether in wealth or poverty, health or sickness, I vow to treat her as warmly as a spring breeze! If I break this vow, may I never catch a single fish from this lake for the rest of my life!"

Serie blinked. "..."

Something about that vow sounded off.

Still, she nodded. "Very well. Within this illusion, I will also refrain from harming you. But should you break your oath, I will make sure you never catch another fish in reality either."

What a terrifying proclamation! Ivan didn't doubt for a second that she meant every word.

Fortunately, the tense atmosphere didn't linger. At the teacher's urging, the two rejoined the group heading back to school. Serie flipped through her book, but this time, Ivan noticed she was rereading earlier pages.

"You're reading it again?" Ivan asked curiously.

"Correction," Serie replied without looking up. "This is my third read-through. Without magic, understanding the concepts here is... challenging."

Honest to a fault, Serie didn't care if Ivan judged her. Facts were facts.

Ivan smiled. "Science takes time. You wouldn't expect a three-year-old who doesn't know addition to study lunar missions, right? Mastering the basics is the only way to understand advanced concepts. If you have questions, I can teach you."

Serie turned her golden eyes toward him, her gaze piercing. "Teach me? You do realize we're enemies."

"Correction," Ivan shot back, mimicking her tone. "I don't see us as enemies. We don't have to be. Even this duel is just a minor test. Wouldn't it be better to get along, even within an illusion?"

As he spoke, Ivan flashed a bright, genuine smile. Serie, momentarily caught off guard, stared at him.

Though unfamiliar with human emotions, she recalled something from nature: when a male offers food and displays warmth, it often signals courtship.

"Ivan, are you trying to mate with me?"

"Ph—cough, cough!"

Ivan nearly choked to death on his own saliva. His mind spun. Was she serious?!

But then... he took a moment to evaluate Serie through a different lens. Her youthful features, petite frame, and mysterious demeanor weren't unattractive.

"...Doesn't seem impossible," Ivan muttered to himself before speaking aloud. "As I said before, in my culture, kneeling on one knee symbolizes allegiance or a proposal. If I replaced my pledge of allegiance with a marriage proposal, I wouldn't mind. Serie, you're intelligent, powerful, and beautiful. You'd make an excellent partner."

"Hahaha!" Serie burst into laughter, drawing stares from nearby students.

"To confess your feelings after witnessing my power—you're truly extraordinary, Ivan. But..." Her tone shifted, her expression proud. "Winning my affection isn't easy. It's as hard as defeating a goddess. Don't waste your time."

Ten years later.

"There's absolutely no way I'd fall for you," Serie muttered, sitting at the head of the bed.

A blanket covered her figure, but the flush on her cheeks and her damp golden hair betrayed her emotions. Her delicate frame glowed faintly in the moonlight.

Despite her softened expression, her words remained sharp: "This is just biology, you understand? My human body is affected by hormones, leading to... certain desires. It's not because I have feelings for you. Got it?"