Frieren was engulfed by black flames and instinctively shielded herself.
Immediately afterward, noticing that nothing had happened to her body, she found it strange and opened her eyes.
…but her vision was still pitch black.
The world had been swallowed by the black flames. If her memory of the moments before being consumed was accurate, it meant she had already fallen into the trap of the magic the demon had cast.
Once caught by a demon's magic, no one could predict what would happen.
Yet, in this darkness, she had no idea what to do.
Then—she felt it.
The wind.
"…Am I outdoors?"
The sound of dry wind lightly blowing across the area.
The gritty sound of sand carried by the breeze.
Yet there was no rustling of leaves or other vegetation.
Even without seeing anything, Frieren's long years of traveling immediately told her: this was an open wasteland, without a single building in sight.
…The question, of course, was where exactly she was.
At least, she was no longer inside the chapel from earlier; her senses confirmed that.
(…Teleportation? No. If it were just teleportation… this sensation of being trapped in the enemy's spell feels off. Indeed, even now…)
"…!"
Just as she was thinking this, light suddenly pierced down from the sky, making Frieren instinctively shield her eyes with her arm.
Even though she hadn't been able to see a few millimeters ahead in the darkness, faced with this sudden light, the only option was to block her own vision.
Cautiously, she lowered her arm.
The sky, which should have been dark, now revealed clouds that seemed to part of their own accord in the wind… and through the gap shone the dazzling light of a full moon.
Frieren, taking it as a sign that the time of day had not changed, relaxed slightly.
But then, something about that full moon felt off.
(No… it's different from the full moon from before. Unreal… almost as if it's idealized, enhanced by someone's personal image…)
Thinking this, she looked at the moonlight spreading across the ground.
…Frieren's eyes went wide as she took in the scene.
"…What… is this?"
Illuminated by the moonlight on the ground, the view became clear.
A scorched land stretched in all directions, hills after hills.
Like a battlefield, black smoke rose here and there.
…and on a distant hill stood a massive dead tree, leafless and fruitless. Some barely remained upright, others had decayed and collapsed into arches while still rooted.
But what drew her attention most was…
The countless swords embedded in the ground.
Like tombstones, they jutted out of the scorched earth.
Frieren immediately noticed that each sword was unique in shape.
Some were even swords she recognized. Having traveled with Himmel and the heroes' party, Frieren had seen countless weapons stored in the labyrinths' treasure rooms. She could identify a few of them as those same treasured swords.
The others, too, were treasures that could easily have been kept in labyrinth treasure rooms.
Yet here they were, countless and scattered like the gravestones of fallen warriors across this barren wasteland.
Moonlight streaming from the dark sky reflected off the blades, giving a faint shimmer to the desolate land.
"…No way."
Frieren immediately thought of a possibility—and instantly tried to reject it.
Only someone as skilled a mage as Frieren could even conceive it.
But it couldn't be.
If… this "Hill of Swords" was the true form of the demon's inexplicable magic…
"…Impossible…!"
Suddenly detecting magical energy behind her, Frieren turned around.
She already knew who it was, yet she had to confirm the truth.
On a hill just beyond, a girl stood.
Dim yet bathed in dazzling moonlight, her pink hair flowed in the wind.
In her chest, clasped in both hands, she held a cross accessory—presumably belonging to the priest.
Bloodied as it was, she gripped it as if trying to feel its warmth, pressing it to her chest.
Eventually, she lowered her hands, letting go of the accessory, and the master of this "world" met Frieren's gaze with a sidelong glance.
"…Impossible."
Frieren recognized the girl as the same demon she had been fighting earlier and spoke, looking up at her:
"…Do you realize what you've done?"
Since intervening in the chapel battle, she had seen countless impossible things.
The demon's magic had ignored the law of equivalent exchange.
Their reactions were unlike anything a demon should be capable of.
And after the caster's death, this same demon had triggered a delayed healing spell to save lives.
She had grown accustomed to impossibilities… but this sight before her, she could not accept.
Even knowing that the demon's magic was chaotic, this—this she could not accept.
"To overwrite the real world with the world of one's heart… that's impossible."
Her expression remained calm, but the trembling in her eyes betrayed her agitation.
This was no longer a question of magical technique.
This demon possessed a clear vision of her inner world—and had manifested it.
The power of that vision was beyond the reach of ordinary demons or mages.
Frieren had no choice but to acknowledge that this demon existed within such a realm.
"It's not surprising," the girl spoke.
Frieren frowned.
"All of these are fakes. Compared to the magic other demons painstakingly create from scratch, this is laughably trivial."
Frieren muttered in her mind: There's no way.
Sure, the girl was right. These were fakes.
Their hidden power, their structure, their mystique—they were not real in this world, no matter how authentic they seemed.
Yet for the world itself, this was different.
Other magic might exceed it in scale or efficiency.
Still, Frieren could only understand this magic, not deny it.
"Don't joke with me."
Her voice was calm, but her hands gripping the staff betrayed anger and agitation.
"This shouldn't exist. For a demon your age to reach magic of this scale… fine. I can accept that."
But…
"Still, impossible. A demon possessing a 'heart' capable of clearly envisioning a tangible landscape like this…!!"
Impossible to accept.
To possess this mental landscape—and a heart capable of envisioning it—shouldn't exist for a demon.
Not that demons lack hearts—but their mental structure differs greatly from humans, particularly their lack of empathy despite humanlike appearances.
This magic was, in essence, the ultimate form of mental magic: manifesting one's heart as a tangible reality.
Other powerful mental magic—like illusions shown by the "Phantom Oni Einzarm" or "Miracle Graozarm's" dream-leading magic—relied on the target's own memories or idealized images.
But this magic was different.
The demon fully realized her heart, vividly imagined it, and manifested it into reality.
Even humans rarely fully understand their true hearts—and yet a demon had done this.
Accepting that would mean denying everything Frieren had learned from her mentor Flamme about dealing with demons.
It would feel like denying Himmel himself—a denial of her own life.
Impossible. Impossible. Impossible… she repeated in her mind.
Still, she snapped back to reality: now was not the time to dwell.
This demon was dangerous. She had to eliminate her here and now, even if it meant mutual destruction.
She swore not to repeat the mistakes of Mahat.
"…This is exactly why demon magic is…"
A bitter remark, barely forced out, doubled as words of self-encouragement.
Even saying the words 'demon magic' felt almost unbearable, but she had to accept that fact.
Along with the curse, Frieren raised her staff and deployed multiple lights of her standard attack, Zortrark, to the left and right behind her.
Then, suddenly, the same number of swords that had been embedded around her rose into the air and attacked Frieren.
Before the attack could be unleashed, however, a sharp metallic sound rang out—and the lights vanished.
"…!?"
Instinctively, Frieren turned to see the Zortrark lights behind her, now erased.
There was nothing.
(…No way…)
She was dumbfounded.
She could understand if her attacks had been countered after being launched.
Even if they had been stopped before casting, she could grasp that.
Even if the opponent were a warrior, the distance wasn't easy to close—but she could still comprehend it.
Yet the figure she faced had not moved an inch from where she was.
(After the spell was cast… they manipulated the swords around me and destroyed them before they were even fired?)
Even though Zortrark itself had the fastest firing speed among her current magic, in that split second—the briefest moment between activation and actual launch—the attack was neutralized.
She had clearly gone first. She had clearly taken the initiative.
Yet she was defeated in "the first moment of the second."
The realization made Frieren shiver inwardly.
If, in that moment, the flying swords had targeted her instead of the Zortrark she had intended to fire…
She would have been dead.
Frieren understood the horrifying truth of this world: for a mage, it was hopelessly predatory.
◇
(…So that's it…)
Watching the stunned Frieren, Lienie thought.
At this point, she had uncovered Frieren's weakness.
Even if another mage had been attacked like this, they could not have reacted.
Yet even a mage as skilled as Frieren hadn't reacted.
Lienie realized why: no matter how well she could read magical flow, she could not even detect the preliminary movements of Frieren trying to activate her defensive spells.
(At the moment of spellcasting, magical detection lapses for just a brief instant…)
With detection as sharp as Frieren's, she should have noticed the latent magic in the surrounding swords as it surged—possibly even reacting faster than a warrior.
Yet she didn't.
Other skilled mages would find it impossible to react at that speed—but for Frieren, the weakness was glaring.
(For a mage who was part of the hero party to have a weakness at the level of a human apprentice…)
Lienie had seen countless enemy openings with her sharp eyes, but the actual weakness revealed in front of her was surprisingly mundane.
She smirked inwardly: the world was hopelessly antagonistic to Frieren.
(Still…)
Lienie glanced around. She had envisioned this before casting.
After being counseled by Anju about sin, she had finally been able to recite part of her chant.
Acknowledging her own guilt allowed her to take the first step.
Now, fully understanding herself, her mental image had grown clearer, allowing her to recite the chant fully and manifest her territorial magic.
(It really is a terrible sight…)
An endless hill of swords stretched as far as she could see.
Dead apple trees dotted the distant hills.
Thin columns of black smoke rose like the aftermath of battle from the scorched earth.
Yet, the moon still shone brightly.
Like a guiding light for Lienie, the lost child who had wandered onto this hill.
That moonlight was both a symbol of memories now beyond reach and a driving force for her to pursue her ideal.
(It's okay. I will never forget.)
As long as that light exists, she could continue striving.
No matter what awaited beyond, she could endure.
The proof of that was this territorial magic.
Lienie hadn't activated it just to show power to Frieren.
Perhaps it also prevented Solitaire, watching from somewhere, from witnessing the battle any further.
But more than anything, it was a vow to herself.
If she couldn't manifest this spell, she would have let herself be struck by Frieren's Zortrark.
If she couldn't realize her mental vision here, then her ideals were nothing—and she would have accepted that.
But Anju and the moonlight had guided her to this world.
Now, all that remained was action.
"I've said it before—it's nothing to be surprised at. These are all fakes… but that's why I can defeat you. Because I can steal the cultivation of others, I can chase after the real you."
A lie.
Lienie didn't intend to kill Frieren.
She yearned for everyone's happiness.
Compromise exists only when ideals exist—so compromising from the start is unacceptable.
(Now, I understand…)
Watching Frieren turn at her words, Lienie recalled the hero party's triumphal return to the capital.
She had stood before their statues, realizing that a demon who couldn't eat humans had no business being skilled at killing.
That doubt toward herself was born from comparing herself to them.
(But this time, I won't be wrong.)
She resolved herself.
The situation favored her.
But she could not maintain her territorial magic long while intending not to kill her opponent.
Frieren, however, had the magical power rivaling even Solitaire, refined it, and became one of the monsters who ultimately defeated the Demon King.
If it were only about killing or winning, it would be easy.
Lienie did not want to kill Frieren—one of the ones she admired—and she would not make a mistake in dealing with her.
Thus, rather than kill her, she would break her spirit.
She would give Frieren time, let her unleash her full power, then defeat her and break her heart.
To make Frieren—so intent on destroying demons—retreat of her own will, this was the only way.
Though she could have killed her at any moment, she allowed time and brought the battle to magic.
A strategy, in a way, befitting a demon. Lienie felt a slight relief that her own demon instincts remained.
"—Now, let's go, mage. I will humble every bit of your thousand years of cultivation."
This battle would likely be…
A fight on thin ice, masquerading as overwhelming domination.