"Beyond this point lies the Far North."
Frieren gazed at the landscape stretching before her, and for a moment, something like quiet feeling welled up inside her.
What had she been feeling the last time she stood here? Probably much the same as now — nervous, but with just a touch of excitement underneath.
"To think I'd be setting out to slay the Demon King again... I honestly expected you'd drag your feet the whole way, Himmel, just like last time — wasting everyone's time before finally making it here."
Eisen gripped his battle axe and watched Himmel's silhouette, unable to resist taking a jab at his old companion who had returned from the dead.
"Mm... I really do want to savor this second chance at life. But now isn't the time for that. Until we put an end to the chaos that's thrown the whole world into turmoil — no one has the right to enjoy happiness."
Himmel's expression was calm and unhurried. He simply raised his Hero's Sword high, leveling its blade toward the direction of the Demon King's Castle.
"Fair enough... So then — does the man who crawled back from the underworld still move as well as he used to?"
Eisen kept talking. His thick beard hid most of his face, but everyone present could tell — he was smiling.
"I could say the very same to you, Eisen... Yes, I did die once, but the body I have now is young. You, on the other hand, have aged quite a bit since then — can you still swing that axe?"
"Of course. I have no intention of giving up the title of 'Humanity's Strongest Warrior' so easily. Even if my own disciple came for it, they'd have to beat me first."
Eisen's eyes shone with unshakeable conviction — the very picture of a man who refused to admit age or defeat.
"...Master, what are you talking about? I never had any intention of taking your title... And besides, when did you get so bold all of a sudden...?"
Stark, standing to the side, could only blink in confusion.
In his memory, his master Eisen — though a legendary warrior who had helped defeat the Demon King — was in practice no different from an ordinary old man... Except for being unusually strict when teaching him combat techniques, Eisen had spent most of his time in a state of quiet, almost sullen withdrawal.
To think his master could make a face like that — burning with the will to fight. It was genuinely surprising.
"Master Eisen is probably just putting on a brave front... Acting tough when he's actually terrified, gritting his teeth and saying it doesn't hurt when it clearly does... Boys are always like that."
Fern, standing beside Stark, offered her own take on the scene.
"Uh... Fern, do you realize how many people you just hit with that?"
Fern's wide-area devastation of a remark left more than a few of the men present looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Well done, Fern — spoken like a true student of mine. You found the weak point immediately... That's exactly how boys are."
Frieren, for her part, was delighted. She reached out and patted her disciple on the head.
One of them had died and come back. The other had lived for several centuries — and though Dwarves lived far shorter lives than Elves, that was still a remarkably long time to have existed. Yet the moment they were together again, the two of them were bickering like a pair of children, without a trace of tension between them.
Frieren watched the two of them and couldn't help but laugh. She had half a mind to step forward and remind them both to act a little more serious — this was, after all, a mission to save the world... But somehow, the more Himmel put on that carefree, out-of-place attitude, the more Frieren's own nerves quietly settled.
She glanced back at the people around her. Almost everyone was the same — the expedition party that had set out wearing heavy expressions now looked considerably more at ease.
Well, wasn't that just fine. Being too tense wouldn't help anyone perform at their best.
That said, it wouldn't be accurate to say every last person had calmed down. At the very least, there was still one — a child with hair long enough to brush the ground — whose face remained clouded with worry.
So Frieren quietly drifted over to Sense's side.
"We'll be seeing that kid soon enough."
Faced with Frieren's quiet opening, Sense didn't quite know how to respond.
"Don't worry... I'm furious at her too. So it won't be for anyone else's sake — it'll be out of my own anger. I'll make her cry, make her get down on her knees and beg for mercy."
Hearing those words, Sense finally understood.
Ah... this elf had come over to comfort her.
And so she managed, at last, to squeeze out just a small smile.
"...Thank you. But she's my little sister, so... I won't back down either."
"Is that so. Then pull yourself together — you have no chance of winning looking like that. Get your head in the game."
Frieren said nothing more. A brief, matter-of-fact word of encouragement to Sense — and then she turned and walked back to the front.
"Frieren, there's something I don't understand."
Seeing Frieren return, Fern fell into step with her again.
Fern almost never called Frieren "Teacher" — after all, in their daily life together, it was Frieren who was forever being looked after by Fern, not the other way around.
"You want to ask why Serie didn't come with us, don't you?"
Frieren anticipated Fern's thought before she could voice it.
"...Yes."
Fern gave a straightforward nod.
"She definitely has her own thinking. She'll probably only show herself at the most critical moment. Aces are always saved to match against other aces."
"I see..."
Fern nodded again, but a shadow of undeniable gloom passed through her eyes.
"...Mm. I think it's a real shame too. That drunkard of a monk was genuinely reliable when it counted — if Heiter were here, our odds would be quite a bit better."
This was proof of how much Frieren had grown. The Frieren of old could never have read her disciple's feelings this precisely and responded so directly.
"..."
Seeing that Fern had gone quiet, Frieren said nothing more either. She simply reached out again, and gently placed her hand on Fern's head.
At that moment, a surge of mana approached at high speed — and everyone instinctively shifted into a defensive stance.
But Frieren called out immediately.
"It's Master."
The instant she spoke, Flamme appeared before them all. And what made everyone do a double-take was what Flamme was carrying — held by the scruff in her hand was a Demon of a very familiar silhouette.
The creature had fully transformed herself into gold — Gold Transformation Magic and all — and the expression frozen on her gilded face was one of sheer, undiluted terror.
"Master... how did you catch her?"
Frieren was taken aback as well. Aura should have been inside the Demon King's Castle, or at Fíliya's side — why had she turned up here at the periphery, only to be captured by Flamme, who had gone ahead as the vanguard?
Flamme had, of course, volunteered for the vanguard role herself.
Though in the latter half of her life Flamme had spent most of her time in quiet study, compiling her theories and knowledge into texts for those who would come after her — no one could overlook the fact that her combat ability was the genuine article: a true Great Mage.
"I'm not entirely sure myself, but she has the mana of a Greater Demon, and yet I caught her without much trouble at all... Is she the type that doesn't do well in one-on-one fights?"
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👻🔥Whant more?: Walnut-chan🔥👻
🔥 New history: Oshi No Ko: Co-starring with Kana Arima
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