Chapter 915: Frieren overthinks.
Frieren’s quarters were located in one of the quietest wings of Asgard.
Unlike many of the luxurious rooms that had been built to accommodate important guests, her space remained surprisingly simple. Not because there was a lack of resources to make it more comfortable, but because the elf herself had never shown any interest in excess. The room had only the essentials: a spacious bed close to the wall, some bookshelves filled with old books, a discreet wardrobe, and a small desk positioned near the window.
Even so, the place carried a peculiar atmosphere.
It was organized.
Calm.
Silent.
And completely dominated by the presence of accumulated knowledge.
Books were scattered across virtually every available surface. Some remained neatly stacked in thematic order. Others lay open on tables and chairs, marked by notes written in different languages. Scrolls occupied part of the floor near the bookshelves, while magical diagrams had been drawn on dozens of sheets scattered around the room.
It looked like the room of someone who had spent thousands of years studying.
Because that’s exactly what it was.
That afternoon, Frieren sat at her small, light-wood desk, slowly organizing several pages filled with notes. Her fingers moved meticulously across the documents as she separated different categories of runes and observations. Some sheets contained extremely complex magical structures. Others consisted only of symbols accompanied by small comments written in her clean, elegant handwriting.
On the other side of the table, Strax stood with his arms crossed.
He watched her work in silence.
Not out of impatience.
But because he was genuinely curious.
Frieren rarely asked for opinions on her studies.
Most of the time, she preferred to spend weeks or months investigating a subject alone before discussing her conclusions with anyone.
The mere fact that she had sought him out was already unusual.
Finally, after rearranging the last pages, Frieren gathered all the material into a single, neat pile.
Then she extended the documents toward him.
"I want an opinion."
Strax raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Just an opinion?"
"Yes."
"That usually means you want a full analysis."
"I’ll accept that too."
He chuckled softly.
That seemed more appropriate.
Without saying anything more, he took the papers and began to read.
Silence filled the room for the next few minutes.
Frieren remained seated, watching as he carefully analyzed each page.
She had known Strax long enough to know when he was just skimming something and when he was truly focused.
At that moment, he was clearly focused.
His eyes scanned every line.
Every symbol.
Every magical construct.
Every observation.
As she turned the pages, her expression gradually changed.
Not to something negative.
But to something thoughtful.
Frieren noticed this immediately.
She partially rested her face on one hand.
"Are you having problems?"
"Some."
The answer came without hesitation.
She nodded.
That was exactly why she had asked for help.
Strax continued reading a few more pages before finally placing them on the table.
Then she pointed to one of the diagrams.
"This is wrong."
"Where?" Frieren immediately leaned forward to observe.
"The mana flow."
"What’s wrong with it?" She analyzed the drawing for a few seconds.
Strax picked up a nearby pen.
Then she began to draw directly on a blank sheet of paper.
"You’re trying to stabilize three simultaneous currents."
"Yes."
"But the flow is returning to the main core."
"That’s intentional."
"I know." He continued drawing as he spoke. "The problem is that you’re thinking like a traditional mage."
Frieren blinked.
That was a relatively rare criticism.
"Explain."
Strax finished one of the symbols before continuing.
"These runes were created for users with extremely pure circulation."
"Right."
"You don’t have that anymore."
The silence lasted a few seconds.
Because it was true.
Since her transformation, the nature of Frieren’s mana had changed significantly.
She still possessed absurd control.
She still possessed gigantic reserves.
She was still one of the most dangerous mages in existence.
But the composition of the energy itself had been altered.
She no longer used exactly the same type of mana as before.
Strax pointed to the diagram again.
"You’re trying to force an old structure to work in a different system."
Frieren observed the sheet for a few seconds.
Then she slowly began to understand.
"Ah."
"Exactly."
She fell silent.
Because now it seemed obvious.
Obviously.
Ridiculously obvious.
The kind of mistake someone only notices after someone else points it out.
Strax picked up another sheet.
Then she began to draw again.
This time, the symbols were different.
Fewer in number.
Simpler.
Much simpler.
Frieren watched intently as he reproduced virtually identical functions using less than half the structures she had used.
This immediately caught her attention.
"Wait."
He continued drawing.
"Hmm?"
"This does exactly the same thing."
"It does."
"With half the runes."
"Yes."
Frieren frowned slightly.
"How?"
Strax smiled.
"Because half of them were unnecessary."
She seemed genuinely offended by the simplicity of that answer.
Which only made his smile widen.
"I’m not kidding."
"Neither am I."
He turned the sheet so she could see better.
"You created six redundant layers of stabilization."
Frieren analyzed the symbols. Then he analyzed it again.
And again.
The more he observed, the more he realized he was right.
The functionality remained practically identical.
But the structure was much cleaner.
More efficient.
More elegant.
And, most importantly, more compatible with the type of mana she currently used.
Strax continued drawing.
One rune.
Then another.
And another.
Each correction removed unnecessary complexity.
Each alteration simplified entire processes.
It was almost irritating.
Mainly because it made sense.
Frieren rested her elbows on the table.
Her eyes followed every movement of the pen.
"I overcomplicated things."
"Quite a bit."
"I thought I needed to compensate for the changes in my mana."
"You tried to compensate for everything at once."
She sighed.
"That makes sense."
"Not really."
"Strax."
"I’m being sincere."
He continued writing as he spoke.
"You’re trying to control every possible variable."
"Because they exist."
"Yes."
"So they need to be considered."
"Not always."
Frieren fell silent again.
That was one of the fundamental differences between them.
She liked to understand everything.
Absolutely everything.
Every detail.
Every possibility.
Every exception.
Every consequence.
Strax, on the other hand, had a much more practical approach.
If something worked, he used it.
If it didn’t work, he found another way.
It was simple.
Brutally simple.
But surprisingly efficient.
After a few more minutes, he finally finished.
The sheet was now filled with various corrections, observations, and new runic structures.
Then he pushed it towards her. "Try this."
Frieren immediately grabbed the material.
Her eyes began to scan each symbol with absolute attention.
As she turned the pages, her expression slowly changed.
First curiosity.
Then surprise.
Then understanding.
And finally a slight embarrassment.
Because she was realizing exactly how many unnecessary complications she had created.
At various points.
Repeatedly.
For entire pages.
It was almost painful.
"I really overdid it."
"A little."
"It wasn’t just a little."
"No."
She closed her eyes for a few seconds.
Then she rested her forehead on one hand.
"This is embarrassing."
Strax finally laughed.
Not a mocking laugh.
But genuinely amused.
"It’s a little bit."
"I spent weeks on this."
"I realized."
"Now it seems obvious."
"Because someone already solved it."
Frieren glanced at him.
"You’re having fun."
"A lot."
"I hate when you do that."
"Do what?"
"Show up, solve a problem in fifteen minutes, and then act like it’s simple."
"Maybe it was simple."
She narrowed her eyes.
Strax continued smiling.
For a few seconds, the room sank into a comfortable silence.
Frieren returned to observing the sheets.
The more she analyzed the corrections, the more she admired their efficiency.
It was quite reminiscent of the ancient draconic runes.
Structures built for maximum functionality.
No excess.
No ornamentation.
No waste.
Everything had a purpose.
Everything had a function.
Nothing existed merely to appear sophisticated.
Eventually, she sighed.
"I think I overthought it."
"Yes."
"Quite a bit."
"Yes."
"Excessively."
"Yes."
Frieren gave him a tired look.
Strax simply continued smiling.
That finally elicited a defeated expression from her.
Small.
But genuine.
"You could have said that sooner."
"It wouldn’t have worked."
"Maybe."
"It wouldn’t have."
She thought for a few seconds.
Then nodded.
"Probably not."
The answer made his laughter grow louder.
Before she could complain again, Strax approached the chair.
Then he placed one hand on her head.
Frieren blinked.
The caress came gently.
Natural. Without any ceremony.
His fingers glided smoothly through her silver hair while a small smile lingered on his face.
"Hey."
She looked up.
"What?"
"You’re smart."
Frieren remained silent.
Strax continued.
"Too smart, sometimes."
His hand continued to caress her hair.
"And that’s part of your charm."
Her expression softened slightly.
Not much.
But enough.
"Charm?"
"Yes."
"I didn’t know you were trying to be charming."
"You’re not."
"Then how does that work?"
"I have no idea."
The answer made Frieren sigh.
But there was a small smile hidden at the corner of her lips.
Small.
Discreet.
Almost invisible.
Strax continued speaking calmly.
"You like to understand everything."
"Yes."
"You like to study everything."
"Yes."
"You like to turn simple problems into six-month research projects."
"That’s an accusation."
"It’s an observation."
She crossed her arms.
"Go on."
"But sometimes you need to think a little less."
Frieren remained watching him in silence.
His hand continued to rest gently on her head.
Comfortable.
Warm.
Strangely pleasant.
Then she glanced at the notes scattered across the table.
Then she looked back at him.
"Thinking less seems difficult."
"I figured."
"I’m a researcher."
"I know."
"I’ve literally spent thousands of years studying things."
"I know that too."
"So my first instinct is to analyze."
"And your second too."
"Yes."
"And probably the third."
"Yes."
Strax laughed again.
Frieren closed her eyes for a moment.
Maybe he was right.
At least a little.
Maybe not every problem needed dozens of additional layers of complexity.
Maybe some answers really were simple.
Not easy.
But simple.
And, honestly, admitting that was much harder than it should be.
Still, at that moment, sitting in front of her desk covered in books, diagrams, and notes, while Strax stood beside her watching her work with that tranquil smile, Frieren realized something curious.
She didn’t care if she was wrong.
Not this time.
Because, strangely, it was pleasant to have someone who could look at that whole tangle of theories and simply say:
"You overcomplicated things."
