Chapter 14 – Acting Cute? Acting Cute Won't Save You!
"Frieren, tell me—have you ever seen a technique where a palm strike descends from the heavens?"
"…What are you even talking about?"
"Because if you don't get out of bed right now, that heavenly palm is going to land on your face."
«(´✘_✘)»
«(´✘_✘)»
«(´⊙ω⊙`)»
"…All right, all right, I'm up."
"You have five minutes to get ready. The village chief already sent someone to fetch us."
"Tch! Evil demon… all you know how to do is bully children. When I traveled with Flamme, she woke me gently—helped me dress and even tied my hair for me…"
"Oh really…"
Elias rubbed his chin, picturing the scene.
That same woman who used to cut down demons like weeds on the battlefield… being gentle?
Impossible.
Elias narrowed his eyes, studying Frieren with mock suspicion.
"Hey… that whole 'getting dressed and tying your hair' bit—you made that up, didn't you?"
Frieren: «(=ω=)»
"…How did you know?"
"I knew it!" Elias growled. "An elf who lies more than a demon—unbelievable!"
"Ugh… I was just wishing for it, okay? Maybe someday I'll meet someone who wakes me gently and helps me dress and braid my hair…"
"Keep dreaming, Frieren. No one with that much patience has been born yet."
"I said it was a wish!"
— — —
When Elias and Frieren stepped into the meeting hall, the village chief rose unsteadily from his chair.
It had been seven years since that fateful day he stopped Elias by the roadside—a single afternoon that changed everything.
The village had prospered, but the chief himself had aged visibly, the weight of time bending his spine and thinning his breath.
From Elias's perspective, it felt like the man had withered overnight.
By his own admission, the chief often joked he'd be meeting the Goddess soon.
"Lord Elias, Miss Frieren—thank you for coming so promptly."
He turned and gestured to a broad-shouldered man sitting nearby.
"This is Captain Quinn, from the trading city of Oyserst. His caravan is resting at our inn."
The burly merchant rose, placing a hand over his chest, and gave them a courteous bow.
"I've heard this village is home to a powerful mage. I come with a humble request for assistance."
Elias said nothing, only studying the man instinctively.
No trace of magic—an ordinary human.
Frieren yawned. "We're not far from the Holy City. Why not hire a mage there?"
"The frontlines are consuming all their manpower. Every mage in the capital is already deployed," Quinn explained anxiously. "Time is short, so we came here instead. Please, sir and madam, we beg your help."
Just as Elias was about to answer, the restless elf beside him suddenly interjected—
"Do you offer payment in grimoires, magic tools, or spell materials?"
Quinn blinked, then thought for a moment.
"Our cargo is mostly food… but there is one book—"
He hesitated. "The Spell of Forced Awakening from Sleep."
…
Elias: "I'll take the job."
Frieren: "I refuse."
Elias: "Refusal denied."
Frieren: «(=_=)»
Silence filled the room like fog.
Elias broke it first. "Before this one decides to bolt, you'd better tell us the details."
"Yes, of course!" Quinn said quickly. "Our caravan was ambushed by a monster—the Treasure Fox—while passing through the northern fork. It stole our most valuable gem, the mana crystal known as the Tear of the Azure Sea, and hid it within the Tomb of Missol."
"What?!" The village chief's eyes went wide. "Missol—the Great Demon of a thousand years ago! That tomb was sealed by Lady Serie herself—it's a forbidden ground!"
Frieren puffed her cheeks. "Doesn't sound good. If even Serie thought it was dangerous, maybe we should just… not."
Quinn clutched his chest in desperation. "But the Tear of the Azure Sea is worth more than all the other goods combined! How about this—if you recover the gem, I'll split the reward. Half the gold is yours!"
Frieren's tone was cold and unimpressed. "Gold? We don't care about—"
Whoosh!
Elias grabbed Frieren by the collar and dragged her to a corner, whispering harshly through clenched teeth.
"Do you even realize how much you eat?"
"If it weren't for the villagers' charity, we'd have starved months ago!"
"And those ridiculous magical trinkets you keep buying—half of them are fakes! Do you know how much that cost me?"
"At this rate, my three thousand years of savings will be gone in three years!"
Frieren: «(=ω=)»
"Don't even try acting cute. It doesn't work on me."
— — —
"So… have you two decided?" Quinn asked carefully.
Elias turned back with a serene smile. "No problem. We'll accept."
"And the esteemed elf lady?"
Frieren crossed her arms, pouting.
«(=ω=)»
"Do I look like I have a choice?"
…
[The Tomb of Missol]
[Holy City Decree: Entry Forbidden to Any Mage Without a Saint's Staff Certification]
Frieren stood before the gaping black maw of the tomb, her golden eyes reflecting its eerie depth.
"For half a gemstone's worth of money," she said coldly, "is it really worth risking our lives?"
"Stop complaining, Frieren." Elias's tone was calm, almost teasing. "Even the dullest life has its moments of danger and wonder."
With a flick of his wrist, glowing spheres of light floated into the tunnel ahead, illuminating the descending path into shadow.
Frieren didn't know—this tomb wasn't just another mission for Elias.
It was a destiny long engraved in his soul,
a burden named Responsibility.
— — —
Three thousand years ago —
From the depths of a vast cavern, explosions echoed for three days and nights.
Elias's hands formed a rapid sequence of signs.
[Shadow Clone Technique]
— Boom!
A hundred Elias replicas burst forth, surging toward their enemy like a wave of shadows.
Across the battlefield stood the towering figure of a demon whose crimson blade burned like liquid fire.
"Clones…" Missol, the Demon Beyond Genius, murmured in faint amusement. "Such a peculiar magic."
With a single sweep of his flaming greatsword, all the clones shattered into dust and smoke.
"What a curious sight," he continued.
"An elf, a sage, and you—the little demon who uses strange magic—fighting side by side with humans. Amusing… but futile."
He raised his blade. "Before absolute talent, every effort is meaningless."
Elias leapt back, rejoining Serie and Aivis, the Great Sage.
None of them had expected Missol's overwhelming strength. His innate magic was transcendent, divine even. For three days they fought him, neither side gaining an inch.
By now, they all knew—killing him outright was impossible.
The only choice left was to seal him away.
Elias glanced at his companions. Serie and Aivis both nodded in grim unison.
"It's time."
Aivis spun midair, his spellbook flipping open in a storm of pages as blinding light poured out from the runes.
[Goddess Magic – Hundred Blades of Light]
"Go!" he shouted.
Simultaneously, Serie darted behind the demon, crouching low with both arms raised.
[Ultimate Release – Pure Mana Surge!]
— BOOM!
Light and force converged from both sides, slamming into Missol's chest with a thunderous explosion that shook the cavern.
"Tch… foolish humans," the demon hissed, his grin unbroken even through the pain. "Do you truly think this is enough to destroy me?"
"Elias!" Serie shouted, her voice slicing through the roar of magic. "Now!"
Elias vaulted into the air, hands blazing with energy as he traced a vast, rotating Taiji symbol in the void.
"I spent ten years reconstructing this spell," he said, his voice calm but resolute.
"To use it here—
I'd say it's finally worth it."