The situation was excellent.
However, for Serie, the more joyous news was the triumphant return of Frieren's allies.
In the council chamber, before her and many of her mage disciples, the victors recounted the events in detail. They laid bare everything that couldn't be clearly explained in letters, down to the smallest detail, including the research on the Yharnam dreamscape, the manifestation of the demons' curses, and of course, they also relayed some of the combat details revealed by Frieren.
Although what happened within the dreamscape was kept secret, it was still a heart-pounding affair. If the town had suffered devastating losses, it would have basically been a death sentence for an entire race. Even with their immortality, they would have gradually withered away and vanished over the ages.
"Master, the elves were nearly wiped out."
"Interesting."
Having lived for so long, Serie viewed her kin with a calm heart. It didn't matter; it was best if they lived, but it was of no consequence if they died. Yet, the many magics that appeared in this battle were indeed eye-opening and worthy of note.
She took the handwritten letter from Frieren, which had arrived almost at the same time, detailing her research on the curses.
Most of it was already world-renowned, as the Northwind Fortress branch held classes on it every day. Unfortunately, most people couldn't comprehend it.
At best, they realized "that's roughly how it works," but it was impossible to expect them to solve it. Ultimately, it was not something that could be understood by mediocre talent.
Of course, the inspiration was equally important, enough to advance magical research by a great leap, and its effects would gradually ferment in the future. The most valuable thing right now was that it shattered the absolute nature of curses, making people no longer fear them. They could be stopped, and even reversed.
Serie looked at the letter, a thoughtful expression on her face.
"It should be possible. Perhaps I can even learn the curses themselves from this."
"Really?"
"It would indeed be difficult for you all, but Frieren's research has a certain replicability. At the very least, she has analyzed more than half of Paradise Passage and Diagold. With some time, you should be able to learn them."
"Strictly speaking, they are no longer curses. Or rather, there are no more curses in the world, only magics that are temporarily unsolvable."
"Only someone who believes in the gnostic principle that all things can be known could achieve this. It's a form of arrogance that scorns the world. Not a genius, but an existence that emulates the world."
Magic itself exposes the will of the caster. At Serie's level, she was even more keenly aware of this.
She herself possessed powers that were no less than curses, but Frieren was more interesting.
Unfortunately, this junior, much like herself, enjoyed staying in one place for a long time without moving. By elven standards of time, their next meeting would likely be delayed for a while, so she could only take things slowly.
"Research is not accomplished overnight; it takes time. Let's focus on the important matters first: expanding the training of mages."
"Master, you mean..."
"Recruit more people, and lower the age. Compared to students like you who only became apprentices after you were already formed, those with talent in childhood are more important."
"I'm sorry. We must have failed to satisfy you."
Serie nodded without hiding her agreement, tilting her head like a child with an expression that said, "Yes, I'm talking about you." Of course, there was no disappointment on her face; she had chosen each of them for their talent and because they caught her eye.
It was just a pity that they were not quite enough to fill the needs of this era of burgeoning magical development.
Even if she and Frieren joined forces, it would be difficult to lead the charge, because elves cannot maintain their attention for that long. In contrast, humans were more suited, seizing every moment.
In her eyes, Flamme was a suitable candidate, but unfortunately, she was a bit too young, lacking in prestige, power, and experience. She would have to wait.
In any case, it would be but the blink of an eye for her. She might as well popularize magic now to create a favorable situation for her.
"Since even some stubborn royal families are willing to relent and learn magic, it means they've had a change of heart. Even if they were forced by the situation, we must seize this opportunity."
"Cultivating more new blood is the Association's goal. Don't let potential talent be wasted on the battlefield."
Serie commanded decisively.
Someone asked, "Should we withdraw some personnel from the front lines?"
"Yes, the front lines can be eased. After this battle, the demons won't have the strength to launch another large-scale war anyway. Even if they do act recklessly, it won't end well for them. That would be provoking Frieren, and I would also take action."
If the demons were too reckless and interrupted Serie's plan to popularize magic, she would settle the score for attacking the elves at the same time.
Everyone tensed up and nodded immediately.
The message was clear: if they dared to act rashly, two mages from the age of myths would be mobilized.
You could disbelieve Serie, thinking her actions are measured in years, but you couldn't disbelieve an angered Frieren. Whoever charged headfirst into that now would truly suffer a devastating blow.
The tragic state of the forests around Elf Town was plain for all to see. It would be terrifying if Scarlet Rot were to bloom in the demon territory without regard for the cost.
The Association began to act with great fanfare. They had to respond to the people's desire for magical technology. This was nothing short of an enlightenment.
The threat of war had also catalyzed the crystallization of wisdom, destined to bear abundant fruit. Although they wouldn't live to see the distant future, it was an immense honor to be part of the magnificent waves of the present.
A stronghold within the demon territory. This place was adjacent to the front-line area. The flames of war raged, explosions were frequent, the air was filled with the smell of smoke, and the field of vision was a haze of smog.
Originally, there would have been many screams, especially from the human side, but at this moment, it was strangely quiet. Both sides had tacitly halted their offenses, and there were even signs of major movements.
The allied armies of the kingdoms continuously sent reinforcements to the front, wave after wave. Coupled with more and more mages joining the battlefield, the demons were feeling the pressure as their opponents gradually seized the initiative.
Today was especially different because the battle report had returned. No, rather than saying it had returned, it was more that they had naturally heard about it, and Schlacht had summoned them.
The high-collared man in the main seat said: "The decapitation squad has been annihilated. No one will be sending us any messages. They are staying in the elf village forever."
The hall was silent. How could such a powerful lineup, flawless in the eyes of the demons, be gone just like that? Annihilated without a sound? How was that possible! It was simply unbelievable. Did they encounter something unexpected?
Someone asked uncertainly, "Could they have been ambushed and besieged by the kingdom's army?"
"Indeed, going so deep into their territory... if they were attacked by the kingdom, even they would suffer losses, and then the elf village would just reap the benefits."
"Lord Schlacht, what exactly happened?"
The Omniscient looked around and said gravely: "The squad reached its destination smoothly, without a single loss. All casualties occurred on the battlefield of the elf village."
This sentence completely shut down all other speculation. It basically confirmed that Frieren had taken all the important heads, as this mage from the age of myths accounted for 90% of the elf village's strength. One could imagine they were defeated by overwhelming power.
Could the timing have been miscalculated? Then the responsibility would lie with the so-called prophet's misjudgment. Questioning gazes focused on Schlacht.
He naturally understood the demons' thoughts. It was mainly a matter of blame. In the face of what could be called a total rout, they had to be restrained.
However, the Omniscient's gaze was fixed on the distant future. He would not be troubled by petty scheming. Therefore, as if not noticing their accusatory looks, he warned with utmost seriousness: "The first wave that weakened the squad was a clone of Frieren that possessed Scarlet Rot."
"It was originally a Water Mirror Demon. After being modified, it copied a portion of the original's power and was infused with the most terrifying polluting magic. Do you know what that means?"
"Vicious enough."
Another of the Seven Sages, Beze, clicked his tongue. It was too much.
As demons, they certainly knew about the magic that led to the failure of the kingdom's siege on Northwind Fortress. It was the attack with the highest kill count in history. Everyone was wary of it, and it was one of the reasons they had to attack while Frieren was asleep.
They didn't expect her to have placed it in the hands of a clone. It could bloom at the slightest disagreement, and she had actually used a quarantine zone to cut off the possibility of summoning monsters.
Just hearing this, they knew it had started badly.
"Both sides engaged in a battle of offense and defense around the barrier. We broke through, but the Great Mage of the elves, Miriadel, activated the trump card Frieren had left behind. I call it the key to entering the dream. You should have heard about what happened next. A magical spectacle descended..."
The name Yharnam dreamscape was renowned even in the distant demon territory. After the most polluting magic, Frieren had brought out the largest-scale illusion magic.
This battle was a stalemate that lasted for a long time, so long that news from all sides spread quickly. In fact, the demon high command was already mentally prepared for heavy losses. The reason was simple.
The main attacker, Grausam the Miracle-Worker, was famous for his illusions, yet he ran straight into the largest and strongest illusion in history. Utterly bad luck. With the key team leader rendered almost useless, half the plan was declared bankrupt from the start.
Since Frieren possessed unimaginable skill in illusions, the defeat of the strongest of the Seven Sages, Macht, was not surprising.
In the end, all the demons' preparations were countered one by one. Instead, it boosted the morale of the allied army.
Beze reported: "We can no longer hold the line. More and more Great Mages are being thrown into the fight. The pressure was already immense during the attack on the elf village. Now, without the large-scale destructive power of Diagold, the situation is even more dire."
He told the truth without trying to hide anything. The situation was very dangerous.
The other demons looked at each other. Since the topic was opened, they might as well report everything to Schlacht at once: "The Central Lands are constantly sending reinforcements. We don't have enough manpower. If we continue to be entangled, our losses will only increase. We should regroup first."
"Regroup? We don't have such disciplined operations. The moment you give the order to rest, everyone will scatter."
"A troublesome bunch."
There were plenty of officers present who knew their kin's nature best. You could force them to attack with violence, barely building a semblance of organization. But an operation like regrouping on the spot was too sophisticated. There would likely be constant instances of desertion.
There was no intermediate state between attacking and retreating because they were incapable of it.
"...Or we go all out, launch a general offensive to wipe out the allied vanguard here, and then return to our territory to recuperate."
However, Schlacht shook his head.
"If we make any major moves, not only will Frieren come, but Serie will also react. I have seen that future. This is their joint threat, and it absolutely must not happen."
Even in the Omniscient's tone, there was a hint of coldness.
If these two extraordinary powerhouses pressed down on them together, they would absolutely suffer devastating losses. It was best to avoid it.
Even if they truly fought with all their might and won, it would just let the humans reap the benefits for free, creating an age of humanity. That would still count as a defeat for the demons.
"Retreat. We need to regroup. Now is not the time for a head-on confrontation."
Dismissed.
For demons, retreating was also not an orderly affair. They basically left on their own. In the end, even the Sages and Great Demons vanished from the battlefield.
In any case, their small numbers made them mobile.
There was no grand retreat kicking up clouds of dust, only a battlefield that became empty overnight.
Because Schlacht had only left behind illusions to interfere and had deliberately made noise, the allied human army was also unsure of the situation. Out of caution, they investigated repeatedly until they confirmed that the enemy had indeed left.
They stood on the demon's side of the defensive line for a moment. As far as the eye could see, smoke filled the air, corpses littered the ground, and blood stained the soil. The dead were left where they fell, leaving only ruins.
This was clearly an operation that had concentrated a large number of demon forces. Could it have ended so unceremoniously? At first, they didn't believe it, but the facts were before them. They had finally repelled the enemy's attack.
"We won!"
"They must not be able to hold on after losing so badly in the Battle of the Elves."
"It's hard to say if demons have morale, but they understand self-preservation better than anyone. They have a will to survive. If they dragged it out any longer and reinforcements arrived, they wouldn't be able to leave."
"It's a pity we couldn't press our advantage. We might have been able to annihilate an entire legion in one go."
"It doesn't matter. This war will be long, but victory is certain."
The flags of the allied army were raised on the ruined battlefield, symbolizing the complete failure of this round of the demons' offensive. Since it was partly intended to draw attention to help the decapitation squad, and since that had failed, there was indeed no need to prolong it. The only regret was not being able to expand their gains.
Oh well.
In fact, years of war had mentally prepared them. This was a long conflict, and time was on the side of humanity.
The news of the crisis in the north being resolved eased the situation.
The Continental Magic Association headquarters, which had been on the verge of action and wavering between sending more troops and selecting candidates, now focused on magical education. Serie, who had been warming up to join the fray, returned to her life of tending to flowers, birds, fish, and insects.
Her stance was to popularize magical knowledge. Anyone who dared to interrupt this process was an enemy. Since the demons knew what was good for them, there was no need to teach them a special lesson.
It was more interesting to study the academic achievements shared by Frieren.
The north gradually became peaceful. People naturally believed this was the achievement of the war hero. The major defeat in the central lands had caused the demons to retreat.
As a result, Frieren's fame soared once again. After all, it was known worldwide that the Battle of the Elves had caused the demons their greatest losses on record, enough to affect the distant northern battlefield.
Moreover, the magical research that had gradually fermented during this war was also spreading, holding limitless future potential. After this threat, the Central Lands fully embraced the Association. The southern lands also felt the pressure and chose to follow suit, especially with the Labyrinth Kingdom already setting an example.
It seemed as if every large-scale attack became a source of inspiration for her.
However, this had nothing to do with Frieren, who had finished her busy work and was gradually returning to her daily routine. She was preparing to rest again.
Dusk.
The streets of Elf Town flickered with fluorescent light. A silk-like glow lit up from the center of the roads, beautiful and exquisite.
Looking closely, one could see streetlights erected one after another. Although made of wood, they were exquisitely carved. The caged crystals at the top were formed by amplifying the "Make an Object Glow" magic, powerful enough to illuminate the entire town.
This was all for the endless stream of carriages. Even as night fell, continuous transport connected the treasury with the flow of funds from various places, so lighting was indispensable.
"It's a bit dim." Miriadel was seen standing on a roof, saying, "Brighter."
Yo!
Frieren snapped her fingers, making the streetlights emit more light, activating the potential of the originally simple magic. As the sun set and the brilliant stars rose from the forest's verdant horizon, these lights became the clearest beacons.
After finishing, she took the distribution map from Flamme and confirmed it.
The comprehensive lighting plan for Elf Town was complete! It was almost unbelievable that such a simple illumination magic could have such a wonderful use, making the town bright as day.
Miriadel leaped down.
"I heard the Imperial Capital is a city that never sleeps. The lights in the darkness are a symbol of prosperity. It's not just for show; it represents confidence and can also support nighttime trade. Otherwise, if everyone rests at sunset, isn't that a waste?"
"Actually, the Magic City is also a city that never sleeps. I've seen it, but its scale is certainly no match for the Empire."
"After all, it's a powerful nation on the verge of unifying the north. It's not strange for it to have such prosperity. If not for the demons' interference, they would be even grander."
"Anyway, the treasury has a night shift now. Perfect!"
The most excited was none other than the boss, Miriadel. They could work around the clock now, a huge step forward. Time to make a fortune.
In contrast, Flamme was more focused on the details. She examined the streetlights and said, "Have we recreated a Yharnam technology in another way? Won't it consume too much mana?"
"No, the free-floating energy accumulated during the day is enough to last the whole night. The key is that the caster is skilled enough and willing to maintain the formula."
"What's simple in your mouth, Master, is not simple for everyone else."
"That's why popularizing magic is important."
"Indeed, you're right. We should first try to create a Yharnam-like prosperity through magical means. This is our own advantage. If we encounter a bottleneck or need to supplement it, then we can consider craftsmanship..."
The red-haired girl scratched her head, realizing she wasn't sure about the current level of magic in various places. She couldn't jump to conclusions.
Even the Association headquarters knew little, because Flamme hadn't had time to live there.
Frieren was also contemplating. In the future, she should pay more attention to collecting knowledge in this area. For example, the quarrying magic popular in Caelid was very efficient. If time could be saved in the stone collection phase, the overall level of architecture would rise significantly.
"You two, master and apprentice, are exactly alike, always thinking about magic."
Miriadel said with her hands on her hips, "Shouldn't we be celebrating right now? Come on, let's have a barbecue on the rooftop of the treasury headquarters."
She pulled the two of them towards their destination.
The chef had already prepared ingredients from all over, many of which were unheard of. Although for the host, they were all just side dishes for drinks, she still had the soul of a gourmand, always liking to try new things. This was probably part of Miriadel's pioneering spirit.
"Next, I'll be carefully managing the winery and the treasury. What about you two?"
Hearing this, Flamme didn't answer immediately but looked at Frieren. The latter replied without hesitation: "The demons have retreated, the Association is promoting magic, and the various nations are cultivating talent... there's nothing that needs me. I'll take this time to enter a slumber and resolve the matter on the other side. If it drags on, it will become very troublesome."
For instance, the Land of Shadow has been shrouded in dark clouds.
Fortunately, this phase is over. Besides, if I stall and don't go to the Shadow Keep, then the follower squad can't advance quickly. I'll hold them up for a bit.
Frieren temporarily not going was a way of showing weakness to Miquella, making him think she was so severely charmed that she had to go back and recuperate.
She couldn't leave Altus Plateau waiting. It was time to go see the heart of The Lands Between. The land where dragons arose?
She had to see it to truly say she'd been to the lands beneath the Golden Order's tree.
With her mind full of various schedules, Frieren gave off the air of someone incredibly busy. Those who knew her knew she was probably about to embark on a grand adventure, the kind of adventurer's spirit that couldn't be stopped.
"In that case, I will take on more Association missions, travel around, learn more about the magic of different regions, and temper myself in the process."
Flamme gave her well-considered answer. She had to become stronger.
The pinnacle of the world was still far away.
She once thought the Seven Sages of the demons were an insurmountable height, unimaginable to defeat. But after the battle in the dreamscape, they turned out to be nothing special.
Instead, her master and her sister were constantly shattering her understanding. A truly strong person is a tier unto themselves, not measured by rank or title. The standouts of the elven race are simply outside the scale.
The Association's Great Mage evaluation could not contain Flamme's future heights. She firmly believed she would reach the pinnacle and witness its splendor. It was not far off; she would surely see it in her lifetime.
"Huh? So you'll be away from home often?" Suddenly, Miriadel's brow twitched. "Am I actually getting sentimental? Have I become attached?"
"Am I getting old?"
"Even as an elf, you are very young," Frieren replied.
Of course, it was uncertain if elves even aged. The few known elder elves were at most in an adult state, still youthful and beautiful.
Either they didn't age, or the period of old age was eons away, which was the same as not aging. Although power growth did affect an elf's development, not even a middle-aged appearance existed.
It seemed the absolute limit of an elf's age was youth, which also meant they spent their entire lives at their peak, their skills never declining due to the passage of time.
"Don't worry, my Flight Magic has improved. I'll come back to visit often."
"It feels like my child has grown up."
Miriadel placed food in Flamme's bowl, then glanced at Frieren, who was busy eating meat, and said, "Aren't you, as her master, going to say a few words? You look so aloof and indifferent. So cold."
"I believe that with her talent, all she lacks is experience. Once she makes up for that, she will break her limits. The upper limit for the strongest human will be set anew by Flamme."
The red-haired girl's eyes lit up as she nodded, her face full of excitement.
"All this food I gave you isn't as good as a casual compliment from this one, is it?"
With that, the short-haired elf huffed and turned her head away, her cheeks puffed up in anger, looking remarkably similar to the pufferfish dish on the table.
"Sister Adel, let me pour you a drink."
The three of them looked at each other, the corners of their mouths turning up as their laughter merged with the night wind on the rooftop.
____
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