A short while later.
Having withdrawn from the forest, the group was still shaken. Looking back, they saw the shadow city solidifying, becoming more vivid and lifelike, as if it were about to break the shackles of nightmare and reality to descend fully upon the world.
It was strange. Why did the magic of the God-Age sorcerer Frieren carry such an erosive quality? It was likely designed specifically to counter the demon race.
While they spent years single-mindedly plotting the extinction of the elves, their target hadn't been idle either.
The powerful among the elves were also researching countermeasures.
Zenze pondered for a moment before saying, "This large-scale corrosive power is more cost-effective than simple destruction. If it were unleashed concentratedly on demon lands, it would surely cause them severe losses. No wonder even Schlacht the Omniscient couldn't sit still."
"The reason she hasn't acted is probably because Vice-Chair Frieren still feels the time is not yet right... I, for one, don't understand the considerations of a long-lived race."
In her view, it was better to act sooner rather than later; they should be completely annihilated.
"I believe it requires not only the strength of the elves, but also that of the dwarves and humans, twisted together like a rope—much like the current trend," Weiss said with conviction. "Although I cannot see the future, I am certain it is the demon race that will one day face extinction."
"Why?"
"A race that neither produces nor builds the world is not needed. It is they who should be eliminated by the natural order."
"A pity none of us will live to see it."
"There's no need to see it. Today, by helping Frieren survive, by helping the elves and humans, we are casting our gaze toward a more distant future, one the demon race cannot foresee."
"Well said. No wonder you are a great general. Then let us remain here and witness the present unfold."
Though it was dangerous, they couldn't neglect to guard against the spread of the contamination from Elf Town.
Besides, they weren't idle. There were scattered corrupted monsters to clean up, and they discovered that burning purification could dispel the scarlet soil, preventing it from turning into a wasteland.
The intensity was very low.
It was likely a pre-laid spell that had been weakened to facilitate later clearing; no one would blow up their own home at the drop of a hat.
The group moved with urgency along the forest's edge. From time to time, they could see the nightmare city flicker, a sign that the outcome was about to be decided. This world-shaking battle was finally reaching its end, and no one knew how it would affect the world.
"What magnificent magic. Such power is worthy of such a stage."
Just be careful. It'll be trouble if it explodes.
"I heard this magic is on the level of a goddess's miracle, more terrifying than Macht's Diagold, capable of drawing an entire nation, or even a whole region, into a dream."
"It's a magic that can threaten the world."
"Is Lady Frieren short on things like that? Wasn't the Scarlet Rot from before the same?"
"I have a feeling there will be another battle after the dream is dispelled. Both the demons and the kingdom are watching this place. It's bound to be a lively affair."
"A bunch of backstabbing bastards. With Vice-Chair Frieren here, they won't succeed. Their failure is only a matter of time."
Anyone who saw the state of Elf Town couldn't help but be filled with rage. To think they had come from so far away just to attack. It not only shattered people's sense of security but also ignited their will to fight. With no path for retreat and the demons' penchant for slaughter, the only option left was to fight to the end.
Moreover, it wasn't just the northern and central countries in danger; in truth, no place was safe.
Zenze and Weiss were heartened to see everyone's spirited reaction. A scheme of this level from the demons would not shake the will of the allied forces; it might even backfire. Of course, there was one major prerequisite:
The safety of Elf Town was paramount.
Yharnam,
A small team of three hunters officially stepped into a clocktower.
The incessant howls from the streets and sky were finally cut off. All was silent, save for the echo of their footsteps.
Frieren, leading the way at the front of the group, was calm and composed. Miriadel and Flamme, following behind, were much more tense. After all, they had seen many humanoid monsters with abnormally swollen, fluid-filled heads. No matter how many times they saw them, a chill ran down their spines.
Because they seemed to retain a sliver of humanity, as if trapped and tormented within their inhuman bodies.
Everything here was terrifying.
Worthy of its name as a land of nightmares, it always managed to strike at the deepest fears in one's heart. Even Flamme, who prided herself on gradually adapting, felt a chill creep up her back, especially when their agonized cries echoed in her ears...
"They're not really monsters, are they? They're victims, patients. Right, sister?"
Miriadel silently nodded.
"It feels like so much has happened. The stories Master told me before seem to have many missing pieces. What on earth did this city go through in the past?"
"Don't try to know too much. It's both unnecessary and dangerous. Forging a connection with Yharnam is a dangerous thing."
Frieren, walking ahead, stopped and said apologetically:
"Actually, I should be the one to apologize. I shouldn't have told you about it like some casual tale. As a result, you too have come under the gaze of an Old God and been tainted by its blood."
"It's alright. This was my choice. If I knew nothing, how could I have helped you?"
"That's true."
This adventure in Yharnam had been filled with fortunate turns of fate. It was the convergence of everyone's will to support each other that had brought them together.
Suddenly, the loud sound of rushing water drowned out their voices, like the echo of an ocean.
Miriadel said nervously, "We're close. This is a reaction from connecting with the Old God. Because its worshipers believed they came from the sea, this is also the whisper of the ocean. We're not far now. The Fishing Hamlet is just outside the clocktower."
"But before that, we have to get past an old friend."
Flamme noticed that as soon as these words were spoken, both of her seniors became grim, as if facing a great enemy.
Frieren, the first to step onto the clock platform, pointed ahead. There, beneath the creaking clockwork, sat a white-haired woman in hunter's attire. A closer look revealed her body was tilted as if about to fall, the white cravat at her chest stained red from a piercing wound.
The deceased had a peaceful expression, as if accepting her fate. And why did she look exactly like the doll? It seemed to be yet another tragic story.
"Can't you use your authority to make her leave? I really don't want to fight Maria again—"
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the white-haired hunter grabbed Miriadel's hand. The latter quickly swung her blade but was parried with a clang. It was Maria, who had drawn her twin blades. The two sides created distance, each releasing a suppressive aura.
At this moment, the platform beneath the clockwork seemed to be enveloped in a dream of eternal recurrence.
The master of the dream was radiating killing intent.
Her swordsmanship was graceful and dignified, yet possessed a sharp, intimate edge. Her gaze swept across the three of them, filled with nothing but a profound will to fight.
"I can't. This place is deeply influenced by the Orphan of Kos. It's using Maria to hold us back. If we don't break through this dream, we won't be able to take another step forward."
Miriadel was already being pursued, as if old enemies meeting again made their blood boil. Maria's twin blades wove a web of cold light, blocking her path. With her power alone, the sword-light had already dominated the entire top of the clocktower.
Flamme was the next to be targeted. She only had time to see Miriadel get knocked back before a cross-slash of sword-light pressed down on her.
The red-haired girl rolled away in a sorry state, but couldn't avoid getting cuts on her body.
It was the first time she had seen such a powerful warrior. Flawless, her strikes fierce and domineering. Ordinary magic would likely not even have time to be cast before one was decapitated, especially with her exquisitely unpredictable swordsmanship.
Maria pressed her advantage.
But with a crisp ping, her left-hand sword was parried by a gunshot, while her other blade was forced back by Frieren's powerful swing.
It wasn't a difference in strength, but that she had applied force at the perfect leverage point to deflect a great force with a small one—a skill even a sword master would be wary of.
In a single breath, offense and defense were reversed, granting a moment of respite.
"I can never get used to this one's attack speed," the disheveled Miriadel complained. "She's been dead for so many years, and her will has entered the dream who knows how many times, yet she's actually gotten stronger."
"It's that your fundamentals are lacking. You're easily at a disadvantage against agile warriors."
"But we have you, don't we?"
Seeing Frieren make her move, she immediately relaxed, taking on a bit of a slacker's attitude. It wasn't that she couldn't fight, she just preferred the easier path.
As an old hunter herself, she could tell that Maria had grown stronger within this dream. Her skills had been tempered and honed. Her swordsmanship, reflexes, and strength were all a cut above what they used to be. Everyone had changed over time, which was rather poignant.
For a long-lived race, fighting her again held a certain charm.
Faced with her childhood friend who was openly planning to conserve her strength, Frieren took the initiative to engage. For a time, blades and shadows danced, the clash of metal more intense than the ocean's echo.
Shliiing!
Both sides sustained sword wounds of varying degrees, but their movements were unaffected.
At first, Flamme's dynamic vision couldn't keep up, but as the fight went on for several rounds, she gradually began to adapt.
That fierce swordsmanship wasn't entirely indecipherable. The hunter named Maria primarily used swift strikes combined with technique to achieve supersonic speeds, while Frieren was more subtle, always finding a weak point to parry and counterattack.
It was now an artistic exchange of offense and defense.
Frieren's gun and blade worked in perfect concert, firmly suppressing Maria's assault and forcing her into a steady retreat, splashing blood. Yet, Maria was no simple foe; she never once lost her balance, her footwork, poise, and stance maintaining rhythm amidst the storm.
As expected of an enemy that two old hunters were wary of, she truly possessed terrifying combat skills.
Flamme asked herself honestly and concluded that fighting this enemy would be fraught with peril; she might even lose her life, especially against that faint, threatening blood corruption.
Thwack!
Suddenly, Miriadel threw a knife straight at Maria.
Despite her earlier slacking appearance, she had attacked without warning. Even a sword master of Maria's caliber was caught off guard as the cold light grazed her shoulder. The strength in her arm naturally faltered for a moment, giving Frieren an opening.
The Saw Cleaver transformed, extending like a crescent moon. Pouring her full strength into it, she unleashed a sudden horizontal slash—
In the nick of time, Maria still managed to raise her longsword and adopt a defensive posture. Faced with the overwhelming force, she was sent flying lightly, then executed a mid-air spin to land steadily. If not for the splattering blood, her relaxed demeanor would have made it look like she had completed the exchange.
It was complete. A gash had appeared on Frieren's gun-wielding wrist, a perfect cut through tendon and bone.
"No wonder the parries got weaker. Master, are you okay?"
"It's not a big problem. This body still lacks a bit of defense. Thanks for your help, Miriadel. Otherwise, I would have had to take more damage to push her back."
Different soul-splinter vessels had their differences.
In Yharnam, a place that favored aggression, her style was more of a glass cannon, prioritizing agility, burst damage, and power. Although she had a rally mechanic to regain health, her overall resistances were insufficient, unlike her soul-splinters in other worlds that could often stand firm as a mountain.
Hearing this, the alcoholic elf gave a thumbs-up. A partner with good chemistry certainly wouldn't just slack off and leave the stage.
At the same time, Flamme cast an eager, questioning gaze. Shall we all attack?
This was no time to be concerned with chivalry.
She didn't want Frieren to accumulate any more injuries. It was best to suppress her and decide the outcome in one fell swoop. After all, even just sensing the Fishing Hamlet beyond the clocktower felt like staring into a bottomless abyss; they had to conserve their strength.
She could help. With the three of them working together, a quick victory wouldn't be difficult. But of course, what mattered was how her seniors judged the situation.
"You two stay out of it for now. Conserve your strength for the next phase."
"This isn't entirely the Maria we know. The Orphan of Kos has altered the dream. It intends to give us a warm welcome..."
Before she could finish, a piercing shriek arose.
ROAR!
The roar came from the entire clocktower, and a chill seemed to seep through the cracks in the bricks, radiating a biting killing intent. The large-headed monsters in patient gowns were swarming them, their previous sickly and frail appearance replaced by a threatening, bared-fangs demeanor.
As if on stimulants, they displayed intense hostility, vowing not to rest until the intruders were dead.
Normally, enemies of this level weren't much of a threat, but now these monsters carried the whispering echo of the ocean's tides, brimming with corruption that resonated with the clocktower to spread a hidden attack.
Frieren warned, "Finish them off quickly, or the Old God will use them to seep its corruption through. That would be bad."
After giving her instruction, she turned back to face Maria's assault.
Not long after the battle with the Twin Moon Knight, her senses were still sharp, her combat memory fresh in her mind. It was exhilarating to encounter a similar type of old acquaintance again.
The silver-haired girl fought with increasing valor, turning the tables to suppress Maria's twin swords. The latter continued to accumulate injuries.
Clearly, there was no need for casual intervention here.
As the large-headed monsters closed in, Miriadel and Flamme stood ready. They couldn't let them shorten the distance, or it would likely trigger the Old God's corruption. They had to be dealt with here and now.
Fireball!
A basic but effective and simple spell blanketed the targets, raising a wall of fire beneath the clock hands.
They were instantly burned and torn apart, perishing in the explosions and searing flames, their fragile bodies not lasting even a moment. But the ocean's whisper still reached them. Both the elf and the human felt a splitting headache and discovered their noses had begun to bleed.
Such strong corruption. They were indeed close to the Old God's domain.
Just as Flamme and Miriadel stood back-to-back, defending their respective sides, a crisp sound came from below the clocktower. It was Frieren landing a Visceral Attack on Maria.
The white-haired hunter was forced to one knee but unleashed a terrifying pressure. In the next moment, she teleported to the other side, giving no chance for a follow-up strike.
Then, with a sickening crunch, she stabbed herself.
Seppuku!
Blood gushed from the wound, staining her clothes and her twin swords crimson. Though it was a fatal wound, Maria acted as if a seal had been broken. This was her true combat stance, at her full, unbridled power.
The pillar of blood blotted out the bright moonlight outside the clocktower, filling the air with murderous intent.
As she shouted a warning, Miriadel tackled Flamme to the ground in a dive. Almost simultaneously, a straight pillar of blood shot past them.
They dodged the blood, but not the flames it transformed into, which scorched a large patch on her back. The blood from Maria seemed to possess a fire attribute. Even Frieren hadn't reacted to this sudden attack.
"I'm fine, it's a minor wound. Keep holding back those big-heads, or our senses will be disrupted."
Before she could finish, a dull thud echoed as the silver-haired girl was sent flying.
This time, it was her turn to awkwardly absorb the impact. Not only because the ocean's whisper had dulled her perception, but also because Maria's power had greatly increased, a gap that skill could no longer bridge.
She had to change tactics.
"I have some trump cards, but I can't waste them here. The three of us will attack together. Forget about those monsters for now."
At the same time, she cast the Sunlight Healing of her Soul's Aegis. It wasn't to recover, but to forcibly cancel out the Old God's waves of shrieking. This window of time was crucial; they had to end this quickly.
All three understood the opportunity was fleeting.
Strictly speaking, none of them had any specific resistance; they could only fight through it.
Fortunately, Frieren, Flamme, and Miriadel had perfect chemistry and absolute trust in one another. Even under immense pressure, they still had a fighting chance. Though the situation was critical, there was a sliver of hope for victory. The important thing was to seize it.
Firestorm!
The first to strike was, surprisingly, the silver-haired girl's flames. A pillar of crimson erupted from the ground, sending the large-headed monsters flying up and crashing down.
Not only that, but a shockwave of fire also blasted away enemies trying to climb up.
The unlucky ones tumbled down, unable to grab onto any railing as they fell to the bottom of the clocktower and to their deaths. Even in their final moments, they let out tragic wails that shook the soul. Seizing the opportunity, Maria launched another assault, her twin blades unleashing a torrent of blood—
—maximizing the area of effect for an attack with no blind spots.
In an instant, Flamme saw the globule of blood aimed at her arrive, feeling as if it touched her throat. A chill ran through her limbs; her mind registered it, but her body couldn't react in time.
Ping!
As if foreseeing it, Frieren and Miriadel appeared in the attack's path together, one on the left and one on the right, parrying the slash.
Their impregnable defense was a wall Maria's blood blade could not breach.
Their figures were the best words. The next moment, a Soul Stream shot through the middle. The instantaneous exchange of offense and defense left Maria unable to react, and she took the full force of the blue torrent's impact.
Even in a dream, the body can be struck by the soul. In fact, it was perfectly suited for it.
As expected, Maria's figure became more ethereal. The persistent soul that formed her existence weakened; it was a critical blow. It was effective. This was how they should fight.
"To unleash such a fast Soul Stream, well done," Frieren praised without reservation.
The red-haired girl gave a lingering, fearful smile.
That was close.
The reason she was praised was that her master knew Flamme was unskilled with that spell, yet she had boldly chosen it at a critical moment and successfully hit her target.
Judgment in life-or-death situations was also a part of strength, just as she and Miriadel were able to react to the twin blood globules and block them. Only skills honed through countless trials and absolute confidence in one's power could achieve that. There was no room for hesitation; only by attacking could victory be achieved.
Maria coughed a few times and straightened up again, her body erupting with a bloody light. Aside from being slightly translucent, her aura was even more imposing.
Although the opponent's soul power was uncomfortable to take, it didn't affect her combat ability. This special blood-powered constitution also had high endurance. Now was the time to test their willpower.
Bloodflame Slash!
Another eruption of blood shot forth, but Frieren stood in its way.
Her Saw Cleaver, also wreathed in flame, actively absorbed the slash's energy while simultaneously deflecting and dispersing it. Though an offensive weapon, it could be used like a shield, flawlessly. The battle around the three became a storm of destruction. Bricks and tiles flew from the tower, the ground shook, and ordinary monsters could only cower in fear. The ground beneath them trembled constantly, yet their steady footsteps only grew faster.
Frieren, in particular, weaved through the battlefield, single-handedly intercepting all the ranged sword-light, allowing her two companions to safely maintain pressure. She was as light as a swallow, fluid in both offense and defense.
Her divine skill made even Maria's eyes widen.
This hunter had gotten stronger again.
She was far more at ease than in their previous battle. Perhaps, fundamentally, she was the one controlling the battle's tempo.
Just as she was about to immerse herself completely in this pinnacle duel, that other annoying, alcohol-reeking person kept throwing poison knives, fire knives, explosives, and firebombs. She unscrupulously threw out all sorts of miscellaneous items, some of which were quite threatening.
The force of Miriadel's throws was nothing to scoff at, comparable to a catapult's bombardment, especially since they were various special items that applied status effects.
Even if Maria tried to stop her, she would be intercepted by Frieren.
And there was another major threat.
Whenever she found an opening, Flamme would use Crystal Soul Spear and Soul Stream, and of course, she didn't forget to fill the surroundings with the shades of Sorcery: Rancorcall, which wailed as they swarmed the target.
Although Frieren's main body's powers, the First Flame and the Elden Ring, were suppressed, it didn't concern her.
She used them all the same.
At this moment, the red-haired girl took her master's original casting position, pouring out everything she had. But it wasn't easy. From time to time, she had to dodge a flash of sword-light and be careful not to cause friendly fire.
She and sister Miriadel had to maintain their harassment to prevent the vanguard from taking too much damage.
Only after actually doing it did Flamme realize how difficult it was.
Frieren, who was usually responsible for this, always commanded the entire field with an air of casual ease, never missing a shot, and could even provide support with blessings and healing. In contrast, it was an achievement for her to even land her hits. It was as if any role her master took on would become simple.
As she struggled to maintain the offensive, the situation on the field suddenly changed:
Maria pierced Frieren's abdomen with a blade, while her Saw Cleaver also struck home—a clear blood-trading tactic. Both of them attacked without giving an inch, still on the offensive.
Shwick!
Two sprays of blood erupted from their bodies. The first to react was Miriadel with her Lightning Spear. Arcs of electricity enveloped the white-haired hunter, stunning her for a moment and costing her the chance to pursue.
She could only watch as Frieren, as if uninjured, dashed forward to press the attack. Although Maria still had the strength to dodge, her opponent unexpectedly unleashed a special opening move: Blood and Fire.
A taste of her own medicine. The blood splattered on her body became a weapon, and this extended attack range was the key to victory.
Yet, even now, the three dared not relax in the slightest. Flamme and Miriadel's ranged bombardment locked onto the target, meeting her final bloody sword-light head-on.
With a thunderous boom, the clock collapsed.
______
✅ Until 40 advanced chapters of ALL stories!
✅ Exclusive content and updates!
Help us hit our community goals:
🎯 100 Powerstones = +1 Bonus Chapter for everyone
🚀 55 MEMBERS = +5 extra chapters of ALL STORIES!
👻 P - Walnutchan