Chapter 16 – So… She Died Together with the Mimic
Elias silently raised his hand, channeling a spell toward The Tear of the Azure Sea—
[Telekinetic Retrieval].
The gemstone trembled, lifted from the sealing array—and at that instant, the Yin-Yang array shattered like fragile glass, dissolving into drifting gray dust.
A low rumble followed.
From beneath the earth, a pitch-black silhouette began to rise.
Its presence was overwhelming.
The pressure in the air thickened until even Frieren's breath caught in her throat.
Before them stood Missol, the Demon Who Surpassed Genius, his resurrection complete.
"...Heh. How long has it been?"
"Three thousand years," Elias replied evenly.
At the sound of his voice, Missol slowly lifted his gaze—
and their eyes met.
"Oh, I remember you," the demon said, a slow grin forming. "That strange little demon who wielded odd magic."
Frieren leaned toward Elias, whispering through clenched teeth,
"So you two know each other? Should I… maybe leave before things get awkward?"
Elias gave a small, almost guilty smile.
"'Know each other' is putting it mildly. I was the one who sealed him."
"W–What?!" Frieren's voice cracked. "Elias! How could you not mention something this important?!"
"Perhaps," he said calmly, "our definitions of important differ."
While Frieren was still processing that, Missol's attention slid to her.
"You there, elf… I remember golden hair. Did you dye it white? Is that the fashion now?"
Frieren blinked, unamused.
«(=ω=)»
"I think you're confusing me with someone else. If you're talking about Serie, I'd say I'm at least cuter than she was."
"Is that so…"
Missol closed his eyes for a moment, dredging through the fog of ancient memory. Then, slowly, a cold smile curved across his lips.
"I also remember a so-called sage—one who worshipped the Goddess."
"This many years later, I imagine his bones have long turned to dust."
He laughed softly, darkly.
"Haha… that absurd fool. Along with his ridiculous dream of 'a world where humans rule magic.'"
The sound echoed through the cavern like a curse.
"...How unfortunate," Elias said at last. "Aivis didn't disappear."
"His magic lives on—still guiding humanity to this day."
Frieren, ever the realist, leaned sideways and whispered under her breath:
"Didn't you say most of Aivis's grimoires were fakes?"
Elias twitched. "...Not now, Frieren."
«(=ω=)» "Sorry."
Elias continued, his tone sharpened with quiet defiance.
"You'll be disappointed to hear this, Missol. The age Aivis dreamed of… has already begun."
"Even as we speak, human mages are standing on the battlefield, facing the demon armies head-on."
"And the elf beside me—she's the disciple of one of those human mages."
A long silence followed.
The ancient demon's expression slowly twisted—not into anger, but into amusement.
"Humans… leading the world of magic?"
Missol stretched out his long, elegant fingers, covering half his face as his body began to tremble—
not from rage, but from uncontrollable laughter.
"Heh… hehehe… hahahahaha!"
"The disciple of a human mage?"
"A species that barely lives a century—teaching magic?"
Frieren leveled her staff at his forehead, her eyes cold and sharp.
"Watch your tongue, demon. Don't underestimate humans—or their students."
"In the three thousand years you've been sealed away, human understanding of magic has evolved far beyond what you once knew."
"In fact, it's the demons—with all your long lives—who've stagnated the most."
Her words were calm but cutting, ringing clearly through the cavern.
Missol's expression didn't falter; his eyes gleamed darker still.
"'Understanding,' 'insight'—such empty words," he sneered. "True magic is power. Nothing else."
He raised his gaze, the corners of his lips curling higher.
"I can see the magic flowing in both your bodies clearly."
"Especially you, boy—the one who sealed me. Three thousand years have passed, yet your power has waned. How shameful."
Elias and Frieren exchanged a knowing glance.
They realized instantly—the ancient demon had no concept of magic suppression.
Missol's grin widened. Flames erupted from his hand, shaping into a massive, burning blade.
"Enough talk. Let me show you what true strength looks like!"
— BOOM!
He barely saw Elias move before an invisible force tore through him.
The explosion was instantaneous—his body was shredded into fragments.
Only his head remained, spinning helplessly in the air with a stunned expression.
"Frieren," Elias said evenly, "your turn."
The white-haired elf lifted her staff. Magic light surged, and—
— BANG!
The head burst apart midair.
Missol, the Demon Who Surpassed Genius, had perished—again—barely minutes after his resurrection.
So this was how it ended.
The wheel of time rolls ever forward.
No matter how powerful or arrogant, those who fail to move with it are crushed beneath—reduced to dust beneath the age they once ruled.
— — —
At that same moment, far away in the Sanctum of the Holy City, a human mage rushed into the grand hall and knelt beneath the golden-haired elf's throne.
"Lady Serie! The Forbidden Magic Wards have detected intruders within Missol's sealed tomb!"
"...Is that so?"
Serie closed her eyes, her tone mild, thoughtful.
"I see. No need to worry—it's probably just a few treasure hunters."
When the mage hurried out, Serie's lips curved faintly.
That so-called 'genius demon' must already be dead…
And Elias—since when did that guy become so responsible?
And Aivis… that idealistic fool.
'The age of humans ruling magic,' he said—
and somehow, he actually made it happen.
"How terrifying," she murmured with a soft smile.
"Still… the snail noodles that day were delicious."
— — —
"Frieren," Elias sighed, "are you planning to haul everything in this tomb back home?"
The elf was staggering forward with both arms full of random trinkets, scattering them across the tunnel as she walked.
"Instead of complaining," she puffed, "why not help me pick up what's falling?"
Elias crossed his arms, unimpressed.
"Let's see… magic that turns watermelons into cubes, a potion for accelerated nose-hair growth, and a shapeshifting wig…"
"Frieren, what's the point of collecting this nonsense?"
"You don't understand," she huffed, cheeks puffed out.
"Everyone needs a little hobby."
"Your hobby already fills three rooms of the house."
"Hmm… that's not ideal."
«(=_=)»
After a brief pause, her eyes brightened with sudden inspiration.
«(⊙o⊙!)»
"What if we just… add another floor to the house?!"
Elias: (ᇂ_ᇂ|||)
Just then, Frieren's gaze caught a glint of light at the corner of her eye.
Her ears twitched.
"Heh heh… another treasure chest!"
"Frieren, please, I'm begging you—don't—"
— — —
"WAAAHHHH!!!"
"IT'S SO DARK!!!"
"IT'S SO SCARY!!!"
Elias stared silently at the sight of her legs flailing from the mouth of yet another mimic.
After a long sigh, he simply turned around.
"You can get yourself out this time."
— — —
"Thank you both so much!" Captain Quinn's face beamed with gratitude.
"Once The Tear of the Azure Sea is sold, I'll make sure half the gold finds its way to your village!"
But then his gaze shifted to Frieren—and he blinked.
"Um… Lady Frieren, why is your face all black? And your hair… curly?"
Frieren froze.
«(/「≡_≡)»
"…Let's just say," she muttered flatly,
"I went down together with the mimic."