Old friends

“Get out of the way, or I won’t hold back!”

Seeing the burly, stone-faced barkeeps surround her mistress, Cuibis could no longer restrain her magic. She stepped forward, shielding Selina, a menacing green magical orb glowing in her palm.

The surge of magic reverberated through the tavern, its oppressive force causing the barkeeps’ faces to pale.

Ordinary humans, no matter how strong, were powerless against high-tier magic.

On the Seraris Continent, mages weren’t just ranged spellcasters—they were formidable in close combat too.

For a commoner to withstand a mage’s pressure without fleeing was impressive; fighting back was unthinkable.

“Oh? A high-tier mage. Quite a bold greeting, don’t you think?” Leisen remarked, eyeing the threatening green glow in Cuibis’s hand with interest. Alone among the tavern’s occupants, besides Selina, he remained unaffected by her magical pressure.

“You!” Cuibis sensed his calm demeanor within her magic’s range, a wave of unease washing over her.

Only a mage or warrior of equal caliber could resist such pressure. Leisen’s mental strength wasn’t exceptional, leaving one possibility: he was a high-tier warrior. In the confined tavern, a fight against him could leave her unable to protect Selina.

“Miss, if a fight breaks out, I’ll hold them off. You—” Cuibis began, turning to Selina.

“Enough!” Selina’s sharp command cut her off. Cuibis turned, startled, to see Selina with her head bowed, her face obscured by long hair, hiding her expression. Her tone, however, betrayed her displeasure.

“But—” Cuibis protested.

“No buts. Stand down. They’re not enemies.”

Selina’s cold order forced Cuibis to extinguish her magic. A maid’s first duty was obedience, even if she worried for her mistress’s safety.

The oppressive magic faded, and the barkeeps’ pallor eased.

Working at Leisen’s Tavern, they were no weaklings—each could handle four or five men—but against a high-tier mage, physical strength meant little.

“Clear the room. Didn’t you say old friends need a quiet space to reconnect? I want to speak with you alone,” Selina said, raising her head to meet Leisen’s gaze. Her voice regained its calm, her clenched fists signaling resolve.

Leisen chuckled, waving his barkeeps away. Obediently, they dispersed, leaving the tavern in an orderly retreat.

“Cuibis, you too,” Selina ordered.

“But, Miss—” Cuibis hesitated.

“It’s an order. Trust me—I don’t take risks with my safety.”

“…Very well. I’ll wait outside. Call me if anything changes,” Cuibis relented, nodding. She left, closing the tavern door, leaving only Selina and Leisen.

A long silence hung between them until Selina broke it.

“Long time no see, Leisen.”

Her first acknowledgment of him as Kant.

“Heh, I thought you’d keep pretending not to know me,” Leisen said with a light laugh, offering the goblet of red wine. “A drink for old friends?”

He swirled the wine, his tone probing.

Selina hesitated, sighed, and took the glass. “How did you know it was me? I was careful.”

Her neck tensed as she watched the swaying wine, confusion in her dark eyes.

She’d been meticulous—speech, behavior, appearance, clothing—all altered. How had Leisen recognized her instantly?

“Heh, we’ve been friends for over a decade. If a new face and some disguise could fool me, what kind of tavern keeper would I be?” Leisen replied, pouring himself half a glass of wine from the decanter. He swirled it, his stern eyes softening with amusement, clearly pleased to see his old friend.

“Get to the point. How did you know?” Selina pressed, frowning. Had her thieving skills rusted after five years?

“Kant, I told you once: you can change your appearance, but not your eyes. They’re the window to the soul. No matter the disguise, your gaze carries a familiar mark,” Leisen said, sipping his wine with a smug look.

“Just my eyes?” Selina asked, skeptical.

“Not only that. My gut’s rarely wrong. You might not recall, but when I opened that bottle and asked about the scent, your answer matched what you said years ago.”

His words jogged Selina’s memory. She sifted through fragments of the past. He was right—after a long mission, Leisen had opened a fine wine to celebrate her return, asking about its scent. She’d answered casually, “It’s bitter. I don’t like it.” The same words she’d used today.

Realizing this, she glared at the cunning man. “You set me up?”

“Set you up? It’s called probing, my friend. How else could I confirm it was you?” Leisen laughed, swirling his wine, his eyes glinting with nostalgia.

When Selina entered, Leisen had been watching. To others, she was just a girl, but to a friend of over a decade, subtle cues were enough to spark suspicion. Step by step, he’d confirmed it.

“Now that I’ve answered your questions, how about you answer mine?” Leisen said, his gaze intensifying as he studied the sulking Selina.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, a bad feeling rising.

“For starters, what’s with this appearance? Don’t say it’s just disguise. No technique can completely mask someone’s aura. Your body’s entirely different, save for your eyes. What happened, old friend?” He drew out the last words, making Selina flush with embarrassment.

“It’s… a long story. Can we skip it?” she mumbled.

“Hmm?” Leisen pressed, unrelenting.

“It’s humiliating. Give me a break…” she pleaded, but his expression offered no mercy.

Under his persistent gaze and probing tone, Selina caved. Slumping onto the stool, she waved a hand in defeat, her eyes weary. “Fine, stop staring. I’ll tell you everything, but you can’t tell anyone without my permission.”

“Not even Litiya?” Leisen teased.

“Not her either!” Selina slammed the table, her soft voice rising, her lively eyes flashing with the mortification of impending social death.

Having to recount her defeat, capture, and transformation into a girl to her old friend was so embarrassing she felt she might explode.