The demons' encounter was expected, as Frieren had recently used her authority to add a hate-aggro aura to the decapitation squad.
You will walk around the city of Yharnam with a map-wide taunt, practically asking for death.
Not even she knew who they would provoke.
Currently, it looked like the unlucky few all showed varying degrees of bestial transformation, their eyes dim and minds adrift; they had most likely been hit by a curse as well. They were already permeated by the Old God's corruption, painful to varying degrees.
Although it was unknown if demons felt pain, they certainly did now. This was an erosion on a spiritual level.
"Laurence?"
Hearing the greeting, the half-bodied monster quietly stopped its movements.
He had become this way after consuming the blood of an Old God, and the corruption ran deep. Of course, he couldn't understand Frieren's words.
His own condition was poor as well, his body covered in fresh wounds and even severed at the waist. Clearly, the demons had also been ruthless; it was hard to say who was worse.
The two sides had been fighting for some time. The relentless, rotating assaults had left the hunted party in a sorry state, surrounded by other monsters of all sizes.
The common monsters automatically cleared a path, retreating with utmost respect.
As if foreseen, the discourteous figures at the bottom of the steps were, of course, a group of demons. Their eyes met Frieren's.
It was a splinter soul, not the main body, but these eyes held a terrifying psychic power that made one's head throb as if pierced by needles.
"You must be Grausam the Miracle-Worker and Macht of the Golden Land?" The silver-haired girl tapped her temple. "So that's how it is. I've acquired the memories."
"The Water Mirror Demon did a good job."
"Yes, it was they who attacked the village," Miriadel said resentfully, pointing from afar.
Beside her, Flamme also stood ready, releasing her mana.
The named Seven Sages of Destruction faced a formidable enemy. It was a terrible situation; their side was now unfavorably surrounded.
"I could have just left you to them to be tied down, but since we've run into each other, I can't just leave as if nothing happened. As revenge for annihilating the village, I'll start by killing you once in this dream."
Grausam immediately warned, "Don't let her succeed. Dying once here will cause severe mental trauma, and we could even become imbeciles."
"Of course I know that."
However, Macht glanced at his other companions and saw the frenzied looks on their faces. They were nearly beyond saving.
Suddenly, the flame demon threw its head back and roared, but it was a roar of fury directed at the trio. Lava splattered from its body, sizzling on the ground. A single drop could burn through and shatter the stone bricks.
Could it be that it would side with the demons and cause trouble for the elf? A sliver of hope ignited within them at the thought.
Unfortunately, a single sentence from Frieren silenced its roar.
"Be quiet, Laurence. Have you forgotten? You received my blood; you are to work for me. We had a deal." Her words were accompanied by a direct, soul-captivating gaze. The flame demon stared blankly for a moment, then nodded, its expression surprisingly becoming docile.
It could feel the dense power of a superior being flowing through the other party—no, even more than that. Her status was incredibly high, enough to lead it to apotheosis.
I've found it!
This must be it. As long as I obey this Old God, my rise to power is guaranteed.
Miriadel chimed in, "This guy's obsession is really deep. He can't rest even in death. He's a useful pawn, though."
Frieren nodded in agreement, then pointed at the demons. Laurence immediately lunged forward. With no more hesitation, he unleashed all of his flames, and great fireballs enveloped the area, covering every single demon.
The frenzied strike turned the houses to ash.
By mustering all their mana for protection, they barely held on, yet they could still feel their bodies scorching unbearably, their hair burning. Even their counterattacks had little effect.
Laurence, who cared nothing for his own injuries, paid no heed to the power of golden blades or killing magic. He had only one thought.
It wasn't over. Almost simultaneously, Flamme's lightning filled the air, connecting into a ring.
Paralysis!
In the instant their movements slowed, Miriadel and Frieren charged forward, two Cleavers hacking down on the same heavily injured demon.
The target was, unsurprisingly, split in two. Against their combined assault, that level of defense was completely inadequate. Even though its mana shield was at its peak and it was a warrior, it couldn't withstand the killing blow of top-tier hunters. A single strike broke the enemy.
The blood seemed to respond to their power, enhancing the impact of the strike.
Before dying, the demon let out a hysterical scream that seemed to pierce the very soul, sending a chill down the spine. Logically, it shouldn't have been painful.
A characteristic that intelligent demons shouldn't possess was forcibly drawn out by Yharnam. This unfamiliar terror was what truly shook the heart. It made sense; how could a sorcerer from the Age of Gods who could freely shape even souls not be capable of this?
At this moment, Grausam thoroughly understood the home-field advantage. From the very beginning, the dream was the hunters' hunting ground.
Illusory Clone.
A fleeting illusion allowed him to dodge a blade, yet in the next moment, Frieren closed her eyes and fired a shot instead. Bang! Blood blossomed on his right shoulder.
Immediately after, Miriadel swung out with a Transforming Slash, targeting another demon.
With a rip, the blade bit into its body.
This strike wasn't meant to be fatal, but rather to send it flying through the air toward Laurence. As expected, the flame demon extended its hands and caught it steadily. Its ten fingers closed with a series of sickening cracks, shattering every bone in its body. Not only that, but flames were continuously burning its flesh and bone. The shattered bones melted and twisted anew, yet it stubbornly wouldn't die. All that could be seen was a humanoid piece of charcoal, howling.
"By the way, in the dream Frieren has set up, it's difficult for any monster other than a hunter to kill a target. He's probably in for some real torture."
Miriadel's voice made even the Seven Sages of Destruction tremble.
Everyone watched as the unlucky demon was slowly fed into Laurence's mouth. He began chewing from the lower body, the crunching sounds incessant, its despairing screams echoing until it was completely swallowed.
But the three humans' expressions remained unchanged. They deserved it. There was no need to feel anything for these man-skinned monsters.
Kill.
They aimed for the last greater demon besides the Sages. Flamme was the quickest to react, casting a sealing spell to trap the target, but Macht would not let her succeed.
His golden blade swung in an exaggerated arc, but it was parried with a sharp clang.
This damned technique again.
Amid the fierce battle, Miriadel had already carved a gaping wound into the greater demon. If Grausam hadn't interfered with an illusion in time, it likely would have been fatal.
Only then did they realize they couldn't underestimate this drunken elf. She completely dominated the home field.
Even in reality, she could go toe-to-toe with the demon race's strongest warrior in close combat without losing ground. Now, she would only be more terrifying.
After a round of attacks, the three reset their stance.
To the side, the sated flame demon shook its claws, giving Frieren a fawning smile before turning a vicious glare upon the intruders. The other monsters, too, salivated. If they killed these horned fellows, could they win the favor of the superior being?
The entire city bared its fangs at the three remaining demons, vowing to devour them completely.
Despair?
The demon race had never had such an emotion, nor could they perceive it. But at this moment, it could perhaps be described this way according to human logic.
Even with the power of the Seven Sages of Destruction, they couldn't hope to escape Yharnam alive. Setting aside the flame demon, which had fought them for a long time and was also wounded, the trio of Frieren, Miriadel, and Flamme were no easy opponents.
Any encounter with them would result in grievous injury, no matter the situation.
But the option to give up never existed.
The three demons took their stances. As a race that had always grown up in conflict, a little adversity was of no consequence.
Flight Magic was ineffective here, so they couldn't make a quick escape. They had no choice but to fight.
The first to strike was the silver-haired girl. She fired a shot, which slammed into the golden robe with a bang. But immediately after, her other hand brought a sword down, severing it. The indestructibility of Diagold was declared finished.
"How is that possible?"
"In the world of dreams, what is impossible? It seems you weren't confident enough in the resilience of your own magic, Macht."
"—To be more precise, after witnessing my magic, your will wavered and it grew weaker, didn't it?"
Hearing this, Macht's face darkened, and his gaze grew hesitant.
"That's a curse, don't listen to her." However, before Grausam could finish, he was struck by Flamme's lightning spear. A numbing sensation enveloped his body.
Crack!
Almost simultaneously, Miriadel's Cleaver slashed across his right arm. The arm, which had just begun to glow with mana in preparation to cast a spell, was severed at the root. It was too fast, and incredibly sharp, cutting through as if bone and other obstacles didn't exist.
So this elf's power was this great? Controlled bestial transformation and the blood of an Old God erupted within her petite frame.
He suddenly felt that even if Miriadel hadn't initiated the dream entry, the squad wouldn't have had an easy fight. But that was unimportant now.
The combined attack of the two made it difficult for Grausam to parry, forcing him to retreat under the cover of illusions.
"Rooar—"
He was nearly caught by the flame demon's surprise attack.
The monster, now just a crawling half-torso, its fur bristling, indiscriminately unleashed a torrent of flame and magma. With a boom, it targeted another greater demon mage, who dodged pathetically.
The narrow confines of the street became its perfect stage.
Flames ignited wherever it went. Everyone felt the searing heat; a moment of carelessness and they would be caught. This was no ordinary fire; it clung to the body and corroded continuously. It should be called a manifestation of fear in the dream. Life has always held a certain reverence for fire.
Frieren reached out a hand and summoned, and a portion of the flames actually formed a large fireball that swept towards the demons.
Bang, bang!
The merciless bombardment instantly turned an entire street into rubble, and the demons all suffered varying degrees of burns.
Damn it, her magic is unrestricted?
In this absolute away-game disadvantage, even powerhouses like the Seven Sages of Destruction were hamstrung. The only reason they had held on before was because the one with true authority hadn't arrived. The dream's master and strongest hunter was the primary predator; anyone could be prey.
The situation had become one of Frieren single-handedly suppressing the targets with firepower in coordination with Laurence's frenzy. The scene was filled with nothing but the frequent explosions of fireballs and the rubble of collapsing houses.
Her power forced Grausam to constantly use illusions for cover.
Having already lost the initiative, he could only watch as Flamme and Miriadel launched alternating attacks.
Golden Shield.
Macht blocked again, but the gold actually dented and deformed under the attack. Its supposedly eternal property was being challenged.
"You said you knew more than just this curse? I'd like to see it."
Miriadel's attack was heavy and powerful, actually making his shield-bearing hand go numb. Suddenly, a layer of bloody aura wrapped around the Cleaver. A power full of corrosion slashed before him, instantly seeping into a wound.
He didn't even have time to seal the wound with goldenization. Hair and flesh immediately grew and swelled, taking on a bestial form.
Macht's movements also became sluggish.
The next moment, her blade was the first to pierce his abdomen. She followed up with a visceral attack, and a cloud of gore exploded. Even the face of the supposedly emotionless demon twisted in pain. In essence, it was the concentrated eruption of spiritual erosion.
On the other side, the greater demon trying to provide support was suppressed by Frieren and Flamme, and pierced by a lightning spear from each of them.
Crash!
The great thunderclap cooked the demon well-done, inside and out.
They both tacitly ignored the illusionist, letting the crazed flame demon keep him busy; it didn't care about illusions anyway. They prioritized striking the demons' fresh forces, and the harvest was plentiful. The scales of victory had already tipped.
The master and apprentice's lightning spears resonated with each other, raising the energy to another level, and mercilessly rained down on the unlucky demon, completely disintegrating its flesh and bone.
Unsurprisingly, it turned to ash and vanished.
Its spiritual projection in Yharnam was dead. It could return to reality afterward, but its mental state was another story.
Death in this dream would genuinely affect the essence of one's mind and even soul.
Next, Miriadel kicked Macht back several steps, causing him to collide with Grausam. Frieren and Flamme, having finished their turn, formed a pincer attack.
The oversized Laurence crouched low, encircling the targets in an embrace-like posture, while the remaining monsters blocked off any escape routes.
An inescapable net.
The encirclement formed by the three of them plus one monster was a truly desperate situation. Moreover, Frieren hadn't used her full strength from the beginning, clearly giving off a sense of ease. The power gap was too vast.
The great Seven Sages of Destruction of the demon race no longer had the strength to fight.
If they died in the dream, would their minds be affected? Although they had the will to survive, reality was cruel.
The first to act was Miriadel, who had been furious the whole time. She thrust her blade through Macht's chest again.
"If the goldenization of the village can't be undone, then your soul can stay here forever. I could kill you for a few thousand or hundred years more and not get tired."
"That's a good idea."
"I'm just saying that out of anger. Can you really do it?"
"They've already established a connection with Yharnam. As long as we kill them one more time in reality and convert them into spiritual soul-bodies, they can be completely embedded into the dream. We could even plunder their special magic from the depths of their will... For example, we could also learn Diagold and Passage to Paradise."
The calm tone sent a shiver down everyone's spines. Frieren the Hunter's splinter soul always exuded an air of wickedness, leaning towards chaotic good.
However, this was also a form of insurance. If they learned the curse, they could undo the corresponding curse.
"My Diagold is not something that can be learned so easily."
Grausam also retorted, "The demon race has not yet..."
Crack!
The two demons were cut down by the Cleaver, exploding into gore and disappearing. A wisp of their consciousness flew away from the Yharnam sphere.
"Save your last words for when I kill you in reality. I'm very busy right now." Frieren glanced at the flame demon beside her and instructed, "You clean up the scene. Devour their spiritual residue, then go back to wherever you came from."
"As you command, great superior one."
After she spoke, the other bestial monsters also retreated obediently.
At Frieren's command, the street gradually quieted down, the previous clamor gone.
The Seven Sages of Destruction of the demon race had vanished without a trace.
After the bestial monsters finished cleaning up, they also withdrew on their own, acting submissively from beginning to end. Even the flame demon, which Flamme had considered a great threat, departed with the utmost respect.
It was as if they knew the great being disliked their kind, so they cleared out cleanly. Lingering in her sight would only provoke her.
All was silent.
Miriadel stretched and sighed, "Finally done. That was so satisfying."
She had been under immense pressure fighting the demon decapitation squad alone, forced to face overwhelming odds. Now they too had experienced a hopeless power gap. It was payback. No, even in the previous situation, she had an ace up her sleeve, which simply required the resolve to perish together.
But she wouldn't have chosen that path, because Frieren, having suddenly lost all her kin including her childhood friend, would have been hit too hard and sealed off her heart, becoming a truly boring long-lived being.
"Will those guys return to reality?" Flamme asked.
"No, their minds have already sustained permanent trauma. Their magical performance will be drastically reduced."
"Why?"
"The reason she's asking why is because you haven't taught her thoroughly enough, Frieren." Miriadel glanced teasingly at the silver-haired girl commanding the monsters, who then continued the topic, answering, "Because I shattered the indecipherable, unknowable, and unshakeable nature of the curse magic. Even the caster's own will was shaken."
"Although few people notice it, will affects magical power, especially curses, which are absolutely idealistic in nature."
The silver-haired girl's nonchalant assessment suggested she didn't consider breaking the curse anything worth mentioning. This composure was, in itself, a form of strength.
A curse can be perfect, or it can develop weaknesses due to the caster's wavering will.
The person using the magic is the most crucial factor.
Flamme said with a flash of understanding, "No wonder some powerful heroes and great mages could fight against the Seven Sages of Destruction. If their magic were truly absolute, a fight would be impossible."
"Exactly."
"Speaking of which, I learned curse-reversal magic from Chairman Serie. She said I could teach it to you."
"You didn't have her transfer it to you?" Miriadel asked quickly.
"There's no need. I think I can learn it myself."
"You're such a stubborn child. How long do you, a human, plan to spend learning an esoteric magic from the Age of Myths... But then again, I don't understand the pride of a genius. If you run into anything you don't know, just ask me and Frieren. We're confident in our knowledge of ancient lore."
"You did the right thing, Flamme. Your potential isn't measured by time, but by your own will. You can learn curse-reversal magic."
The three walked on as they chatted.
Gradually, the street stretched into the distance. Magnificent buildings were divided into dense blocks by the roads, converging towards a church-like structure. As they continued forward, a thick fog seemed to gather, and their vision grew hazy.
Golden shadows flickered indistinctly in the haze, incredibly striking in the generally dim, light-deprived Yharnam.
"Wait!" The red-haired girl's gaze sharpened. "They couldn't be..."
"Yes, they are the dreams of everyone who was turned to gold, their spiritual projections in Yharnam. I protected them, after killing Macht and stealing the imprisonment of Diagold."
"It's good that you took action."
Miriadel, who had been shouldering a heavy responsibility, breathed a sigh of relief. She had felt that she hadn't done enough, which led to the disaster.
Although Frieren always claimed not to be good at mental magic, the truth was she disliked it, as it easily reminded her of the power of the Old Gods.
But when she truly applied it, she was no less skilled than the miracle-working illusionist.
"Everyone's spiritual response is weak, which means that for the victims, it's a slumber without pain. As long as I gain complete control of the dream and help them break the spell, everyone can be safe. Besides, I've already gained some insight into Diagold."
"Don't say such a huge thing so casually. Are you really learning the curse?"
"What if I am?"
"It means your magic analysis has reached the same level, and your will and imagination are stronger than even the strongest of the Seven Sages of Destruction."
"Of course, Master is the strongest."
Hearing that there was a chance to rescue everyone from the elf village, Flamme was also thrilled. After all, she knew them all and didn't want to see the disaster caused by the demons continue to fester.
As they were hurrying along, a roar suddenly erupted from the distance. The piercing sound drilled into their minds, chaotic and evil. Flamme clutched her head, her face contorted in pain. Seeing this, Miriadel immediately provided a psychic ward.
At the same time, a shadow fell over the moon in the sky.
Another power, as bright as fire, pushed back in defiance. The two sides were locked in a stalemate, each holding its ground.
The entire dreamscape shook violently. The monsters within were so frightened they prostrated themselves on the ground, not daring to move, only trembling and whining.
The Moon Old God had also gained a considerable degree of authority and, along with the power of other Old Gods, was rebelling against the main consciousness. The projection of the First Flame was Frieren's subconscious suppression. The tug-of-war had reached a fever pitch, and the dream could collapse at any moment.
They exchanged glances and immediately understood the situation.
"We have to hurry. If a victor isn't decided soon and the dream collapses, I can still save myself, but there will be no chance to save everyone."
Frieren added, "The Moon God is attacking fiercely. From now on, things will change both inside and outside the dream. Be careful."
With that, she took the lead and cleared a path. Miriadel and Flamme, left behind, exchanged a look and followed.
Reality.
The nightmare shadow enveloping the elf town shook violently, emitting waves of blood-curdling screams that made one's scalp tingle. The heads of the many soldiers and mages stationed on guard began to buzz.
Some fainted on the spot, falling into a deep, unconscious slumber.
They couldn't withstand even a moment of the psychic storm of absolute power and quickly fell. Only those with higher resistance to such things could carry them out.
That's right, they couldn't even be moved with magic, because a magical disturbance had occurred in a ten-kilometer radius.
The flow of energy was distorted.
The warning horns blew in unison—the signal to evacuate. They had to reach a safe distance quickly.
Zenze issued a telepathic command: "Proceed with the original plan. Retreat to the outer forest and abandon observation of the elf town. Safety first."
Even with multiple layers of her own defenses, she felt her mind shake. She had truly disgraced Master Serie with her lack of skill, completely unable to intervene in a magical battle of this level. She couldn't even comprehend it.
Seeing her downcast expression, Wirn advised:
"Keep a level head. After all, the power hidden within Lady Frieren is too profound."
"This is also her strategy for dealing with multiple Seven Sages of Destruction and even reversing a curse. It's bound to cause a huge commotion. We must be cautious."
As commander, he also ordered the garrison to withdraw as quickly as possible.
The people rapidly retreated from the crimson-soiled forest. This place had become an unprecedented magical battlefield.
______
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