Ch.11The Black Mage is Free (5)

“Master!”

I rushed to my Master who had suddenly collapsed.

Right, there’s no way nothing would happen.

Master had been freed from the aging effect and returned to her original body, but ultimately, her body had essentially reversed twenty years of time, so it wouldn’t be strange if some problems occurred.

I put my ear to her chest as she lay unconscious and held my breath. But in the cold silence that had settled, I couldn’t hear the beating sound.

Her heart isn’t beating…?

Just then, I felt slightly warm air blowing against my face.

Puzzled, I raised myself up and knelt beside her. Then I began to slowly observe Master’s condition.

Her chest area slowly rose and fell, and a “pheeek” sound of air escaping came from her nose.

Only then did I realize why I couldn’t hear her heartbeat.

No, why would the mana duct block the sound of heartbeats? I worried for nothing.

The moment I realized she was safe, my face flushed hot. After all, I had essentially pressed my face against her chest for no reason.

A man putting his face against an unconscious woman’s chest…? Honestly, even a demon would shake its head and walk away.

I hesitated, then carefully lifted her and laid her on the bed. Regardless of my embarrassment, I couldn’t just leave Master on the floor.

Master was breathing steadily with a peaceful expression. Thankfully, it really seemed like nothing was wrong.

I sighed and used my fingers to smooth out her thoroughly disheveled hair. Then as I stood at the door about to leave the room, something occurred to me, so I approached the sleeping Master before exiting.

When the door closed, all the buttons on her shirt were fastened.

* * * * *

“Ugh…”

A faint sound came from the room, indicating Master had woken up.

I wanted to rush over and ask if she was alright, but I couldn’t. It had been so long since I’d cooked that I felt like it would turn to ashes the moment I looked away.

As if sensing my thoughts, the door opened and Master came out.

Unable to fully turn my head, I glanced at her from the corner of my eye and said:

“Master, are you okay?”

“Ah… yeah.”

“Why did you collapse? Was there some problem with your body returning to normal?”

“No… well… not really. Are you cooking?”

Master seemed curious about what I was making and came closer to look into the pot.

When I turned my head to look at her, I was startled. The buttons I had definitely fastened were undone again. And as if she’d sweated while sleeping, her cleavage was visibly damp.

When I fastened all the buttons earlier, I did feel the shirt was a bit small. But I didn’t think it was uncomfortable enough to worry about, though it seems it was for her.

I let out a deep sigh and focused back on cooking. Of course, that wasn’t easy, but I had to manage somehow.

But why does the potato look apricot-colored? Did someone cast an illusion on me?

“Is that stew?”

“Yes, but Master, why did you buy ingredients?”

“Hm? I bought them to cook, of course.”

“Please stop lying.”

“You brat? If your master says a potato is a sweet potato, then it’s a sweet potato.”

“No, that doesn’t make sense. If you had cooked for yourself, you wouldn’t be alive right now.”

A moment of silence fell between us. I immediately regretted my words. They were definitely too harsh.

“…Do you want to die?”

During the brief moment before those words left Master’s mouth, I experienced hundreds of deaths just from her gaze.

Of course, having lived with Master for years, I’ve naturally tasted her cooking before.

Just once.

The day I came closest to death in my entire life.

If I remember correctly, Master also made stew that day.

The appearance was truly appetizing. The ingredients, cut into bite-sized pieces and well-cooked in a golden sauce, looked delicious enough to stimulate the appetite.

The smell was decent too. A nutty, sweet aroma with hints of fresh vegetables.

But the taste was not. It was the worst, as if black magic had been transformed into food.

Still, young me ate it all. I was afraid Master would feel bad otherwise.

I salute my younger self.

The current me absolutely couldn’t eat it.

I smiled awkwardly and stirred the stew with the ladle.

Master, from now on, I’ll do the cooking.

When the cooking was done, I ladled some stew onto a small plate and handed it to Master. Honestly, since it had been so long since I’d cooked, I wasn’t confident and had somewhat given up.

But her reaction was quite different from what I expected.

Master opened her already large eyes even wider and said:

“It’s delicious…!”

“I’m glad. I was worried since it’s been so long.”

“Ah, so you’re saying you used me as a test subject?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

“I’m just joking, of course. More importantly, let’s hurry. This master is hungry!”

Master walked ahead, lightly hopping as if excited to eat the stew. Considering she used to complain about her knees aching when climbing stairs, being young again seems to have its benefits.

I put on thick gloves to grab the pot of hot stew. And as I reached out to grab the pot—

I saw Master losing her balance and about to fall.

My body moved on its own, and before I knew it, I was holding her waist from behind.

“Are you okay?!”

“Ah… yes.”

After I released her waist, Master scratched her head awkwardly and slowly left the kitchen.

I stared blankly at the door she had exited through, repeatedly clenching and unclenching my gloved hands.

How can she be so thin? Isn’t she going to break?

Anyway, both the stew and Master are safe, so all’s well that ends well.

When I carried the pot of stew out, Master was sitting in a chair at the table. Though I couldn’t see her face because her head was bowed, she didn’t seem to be in a bad mood.

How do I know? Well, family members can sense each other’s moods just by feeling the energy.

“Master, please lift your head. I need to put the pot down.”

“Ah, yes. Sorry.”

As Master lifted her head, I examined her face while setting down the pot. Since she had collapsed once, I was worried something might be wrong. Though she seemed fine based on her behavior, I just couldn’t shake my concern.

Masters typically don’t like showing weakness to their disciples. She was no exception. Even when she was struggling, she always acted normal when I was around.

She thought she hid it well, but in truth, I knew everything. How could I not know the physical condition of my only family?

Sure enough, her face was quite flushed now. As if she had a fever.

“Master, are you okay? Do you feel dizzy or anything?”

“Hm? No, I’m fine. Why?”

“Your cheeks are red, like you have a fever.”

“…Go get plates and spoons.”

With those words, Master abruptly turned her head away, and I shrugged and headed to the kitchen.

At least she doesn’t seem sick, so I’ll let her handle it.

After gathering what I needed from the kitchen, I returned and ladled stew onto a plate, placing it in front of Master. Then I served myself and sat down, waiting for her to pick up her spoon first.

When I was young, picking up my spoon first meant getting beaten with a spoon until I was nearly dead that day. The habit remained ingrained in me even now that I was older.

Master glanced at me, then scooped up some stew with her spoon and put it in her mouth. She smiled, then ate hurriedly before quickly holding out her empty plate.

It seems she really enjoyed it.

“Boy, my arm hurts. Take it quickly.”

“But now that you’re younger, couldn’t you do it yourself…?”

Seeing her adjust her grip on the spoon, I quietly took her plate and served her more stew.

Does getting older not change the fact that I get beaten? It’s a bit unfair that she still sees me as a child even though I’m a grown adult.

Master went on to eat several more plates of stew.

Though it was annoying to serve her each time, I didn’t mind. It’s rewarding when someone enjoys the food you’ve made.

After I finished washing all the dishes, Master entered the kitchen.

“Oh, I’ve already done all the dishes.”

“That’s only natural. Should I, your master, do them?”

“Come on, you could wash dishes sometimes. Are you trying to live without ever getting your hands wet?”

“That’s why I’m here now, to get them wet, you brat.”

Master took a kettle from the cupboard and held it out to me.

“Water.”

“I’m not some kind of water dispenser…”

“Water.”

Haah—

I infused my circulating mana with a blue color, focusing it at my fingertips to create water. I pushed the ball of water that had formed at my fingertips into the kettle and returned my mana flow to normal. With a splash, the kettle filled with water.

“Wow, that’s really amazing. You have no idea how annoying it was when you weren’t around.”

“But Master, don’t you have a magic tool at home that brings in water?”

“Using that is annoying.”

I surrendered to her laziness and sighed.

But what could I do? She was the master, and I was the disciple.

Besides, compared to the kindness she had shown me, this didn’t even count as repaying her grace.

Master, wearing the thick gloves I had used to hold the pot, held the kettle out to me again and said:

“Fire.”

No, this is too much?