A rare moment of rest after the great battle.
Within one of the few intact rooms left in Castle Ensis, the group had the two demigods lie down to rest for the time being.
Rellana, being the most injured, needed no further convincing. Despite her warrior's constitution, she had taken several high-output attacks. Even after being treated with the world's finest healing magic, she was utterly exhausted, unable to even stand steadily, and so chose to lie down.
The other was Frieren, who was sitting on her bed, meditating. She had explained the danger of the charm and immediately set up mental defenses, adding a shielding barrier to the room for good measure.
Melina understood. Since her partner was resting for now, she would be the one to explain the full story.
The situation in the Lands Between, which had already been mentioned, was of course skimmed over. The focus was on the current matter: "Miquella's plan for godhood," along with all the information about his followers, the charm, and the Gate of the Gods.
And, of course, the matter of housing the victimized Nox.
Rellana agreed on the spot: "Rest assured, leave it all to Castle Ensis. I'll have Muriel make the arrangements and ensure they are kept safe until their surgeries."
"I thank you on their behalf, Your Grace."
"Think nothing of it. I too covet the power of that Lord of Night. Having her garrisoned at the fortress adds another layer of security."
It was clear that both she and Frieren needed rest. In fact, according to Melina, Frieren was still dealing with some hidden dangers.
Rellana, with her sharp eyes, had noticed it as well. There was quite a commotion within the Quasi-King's body; it would be best to carefully regulate it.
It was a wonder she was willing to take risks while shouldering so many negative statuses. Was it courage or recklessness?
Never mind, it was beyond comprehension. The only thing she could comprehend was the King of Golden.
"To get back on topic, we now need more information about the Land of Shadow to ascertain Miquella's specific plan," Melina stated directly.
"Are you planning to stop him?"
"Actually, we're not certain yet. We can't make a judgment without more evidence..."
"We stop him."
Frieren's sudden, decisive answer cut in. She had finally opened her eyes, a trace of spirit returning to her, but the charm's influence had not yet been eliminated. She had to prepare for the worst.
She continued, "We cannot trust the stability of an Empyrean who has even cast aside his own body."
"And he is collaborating with the Horned Folk," Melina added in agreement.
Rellana also supplemented, "Since you, Your Majesty, have chosen Caria's Law of Stars, then any other law is my enemy. The Law of Purity cannot be allowed to grow stronger."
The three of them conferred and confirmed their stance.
Each had their own primary and secondary reasons, but their goal was the same: Miquella could not be allowed to become a god and manifest his law.
To be safe, he should be dealt with in the Land of Shadow. Otherwise, if word of the ascension ritual and other events were to spread, people would spontaneously flock to him, gathering a large following that would be difficult to handle later.
"That said, are we supposed to appear as if we've shaken hands and made peace?" Rellana continued to ask. "Won't that make his followers wary?"
"That leader, the Knight of the Needle, is wary of everyone. It doesn't matter."
"Huh?"
"In any case, there's no need to be secretive. We just need to act according to plan. First, bring the Nox over."
Frieren then looked to Melina beside her and instructed:
"During this time, I will go with you to make an appearance at Stormveil Castle and the Raya Lucarian Academy. Rellana, you write a letter to report your safety, and we will bring back a reply... That's the plan. We need to get the two locations connected first. The Ghostflame Dragon heart, all sorts of Spirit Ashes, and Weapon Skills need to be gathered and taught. And the smithing stones. Give them all to the southern army and have them strengthen their preparations."
The person who was usually taciturn suddenly launched into a long speech, which stunned her familiar partner. At first, Melina tried to take notes, but she grew increasingly uneasy.
She cast an questioning gaze.
Even Rellana could feel the atmosphere was different.
Logically, the Soul Cinder King wasn't the type to worry about such things; after all, nothing was beyond her ability to solve with a good thrashing.
Why did it suddenly sound like she was arranging her final affairs? The atmosphere was wrong.
"...I have a dangerous premonition. I need to resolve it through slumber before going to Stormveil Castle."
Hearing this, the two of them felt their anxious hearts settle slightly.
In the Lands Between, where long-lived beings are the norm, sleeping for a year or two is hardly unusual. For divine beings, it wasn't uncommon to hibernate until the end of time. It was a good thing for the Soul Cinder King to get some proper rest.
Little did they know.
In truth, Frieren was referring to a potential risk in the real world. This inexplicable palpitation was truly unsettling. Although she couldn't use magic to foresee the future, she believed her intuition, honed through countless trials, was no worse than such abilities. Something was about to happen, and it wasn't good.
Unfortunately, she couldn't return directly.
If she returned in her unstable state only to encounter a dangerous situation, wouldn't that be even worse?
So she could only arrange matters in the Lands Between while conditioning her mind. Haste makes waste; she had to plan for the long term.
Theoretically, if a truly severe situation arose, it would trigger a pre-set spell that would force Frieren to return to reality, so there was no need to worry excessively. She would strive to prepare herself in a better state.
For the next few days, Castle Ensis was a hive of activity. On one hand, repair work was underway; on the other, an army was dispatched to rendezvous at the Belurat Gaol.
Muriel, who led the expedition, was astonished at the tragic state of the many victims: "What a bunch of damned fiends. The ones sealed in the Spiral Tower got off easy."
"Where is my mother?"
"Your Highness, Her Majesty is currently heading to the Lands Between with Lady Melina."
The Mimic Tear pouted and said, "She didn't even take me with her... Wait, something urgent must have happened!"
Muriel, who had intended to keep it a secret, had no choice but to inform her, seeing how perceptive she was. It was an attack from Miquella's charm, forcing Frieren to prepare for a long slumber, lest the consequences be dire.
The pale elf's brow furrowed as she gazed towards the Spiral Tower.
"I understand. I will set off immediately to guard Castle Ensis. Until my mother returns and Rellana recovers, leave it to me."
With her affirmative reply, the Carian army felt a bit more at ease. They then used stretchers to carry the Nox up, who were in tears. They could finally see the bright sky again.
In the end, the underground gaol was put to the torch, reduced to ruins under the Mimic Tear's magical bombardment.
Stormveil Castle.
After delivering the letter for Rellana and Rennala, Frieren returned to the room behind the throne, while Melina stood guard outside, arranging the various plans.
As expected, her condition improved considerably after leaving the Land of Shadow and the charm.
But she did not let her guard down.
Even if Miquella's charm was temporarily distant, it didn't mean the agitated Old God would calmly accept being sealed. Therefore, she needed to re-channel the Soul of the First Flame to reinforce the suppression. This would take some time, and the real variable lay in reality.
If she wasn't mistaken, this sense of danger partly came from the Water Mirror Demon, as it carried a part of her soul.
After much thought, Frieren could only lie down, close her eyes, and enter meditation, her consciousness gradually sinking into her heart.
...
Magic Association Headquarters.
Seated cross-legged in the main chair of the reception hall, Serie listened to the report with an air of boredom.
After her apprentice Zenze finished a long report on the association's operational status, she presented a thick stack of files, saying, "Please review this year's final examination list for Great Mages."
"What a waste not to bask in the sun on such a fine day."
Although Serie's comment was completely unrelated and absent-minded, she still took the files and read through them ten lines at a time.
There were few things left in the world that could pique the interest of the Founder of Magic. Finding promising new talents was one, but that was all. Geniuses were often few and far between.
A human mage seen once in a thousand years truly is a once-in-a-thousand-years occurrence.
Zenze added, "Likely due to the war with the demons and the active support for magic from the Central Lands, the number of mages is increasing daily. It has tripled compared to last year, and they are all combat-oriented."
"We didn't intentionally screen them. Surviving on the battlefield is the greatest screening, after all."
"However, I have selected those with the potential to become Great Mages for your review..."
"They're quite mediocre."
Serie, halfway through the files, replied coldly. These people were unworthy of the magic she could bestow; she could sense no curiosity in them.
If even an elf found it boring, they surely couldn't muster any passion.
Honestly, she had more than once suspected that establishing the association was a mistake; she hadn't met many interesting geniuses. They could neither glorify her magic nor provide new magic.
If not for the fact that Frieren was very serious about it, and not wanting to disrespect her kin's hard work, Serie would have started openly slacking off long ago.
She wouldn't even have come to the reception hall.
Compared to the examination of mediocre mages, war was more capable of igniting one's fighting spirit.
The blonde elf suddenly stopped what she was doing and looked towards the door. Seeing this, Zenze also looked, but saw nothing.
The gap in their mana sensing ranges was too vast, a chasm on the level of precognition.
A moment later, Lehmann arrived in a hurry.
Now she understood why her master was paying attention. He had always been in charge of the front lines; any news from him was an urgent military report.
"Report, traces of demon activity have been discovered in the central region. The kingdom hopes to commission the association to investigate... because it is suspected to be the work of the Seven Sages of Destruction."
"Their mana signatures are very distinct. There's no need for 'suspected,' is there?" Zenze pressed.
"Which means they're scared."
Serie scoffed, her tone filled with disdain.
The Seven Sages of Destruction, who had wreaked havoc on the front lines, were each a natural disaster, striking fear into the hearts of all. A single one could dominate an entire battlefield. Of course it would unsettle any kingdom they passed through, to the point of disbelief. Intuitively, it also didn't make sense.
What could be worth them traveling thousands of miles deep into the heartland of the human kingdoms? Yet, reality is sometimes counter-intuitive.
"It is indeed frightening, because there are traces of the Golden Order... but how could it suddenly appear inland?" Lehmann said grimly. "So there must be covert coordination, and the best stealth may not be stealth at all."
"Illusions?"
The two Great Mages immediately came to their senses. It was highly likely a peer skilled in illusion magic was involved, which brought another piece of bad news:
One person doesn't need illusions. Unless a squad is on the move.
The worst-case scenario: two of the Seven Sages of Destruction, several powerful demons, and an elite force. For them, this would be an unprecedented level of close collaboration.
Who forced such a reclusive race to start acting in concert?
Of course, their collaboration wasn't perfect. If their organization were tight enough, they wouldn't have even left a single clue.
Lehmann continued, "The projected route is towards the Elf Village, so the target is Vice-President Frieren. The good news is they are still far away, giving us time to react."
"But you're not ruling out that this could be a smokescreen?" Zenze asked.
"Correct."
"In any case, I will contact the branch there and dispatch mages, but this requires authorization from our Master."
"You may, but don't make a big show of it."
In Serie's eyes, this matter was both serious and not. What happened to the elven homeland was of little consequence to her; she had no feelings for it. She just wondered what would happen to Frieren. Perhaps a divination was in order...
She felt that it would be a shame for the one kin who helped share her workload to die. But then again, what she admired was strength.
If she were defeated by something of this level, it would only mean she was nothing special after all.
The order was given, causing everyone in the reception hall to startle slightly. Their expressions turned solemn, and the atmosphere grew heavy.
If the Seven Sages of Destruction were allowed to cause chaos in the central region, the consequences would be unimaginable. Utter devastation would be an understatement. Countermeasures had to be prepared.
All that ordinary mages could do was assist with evacuations; they would likely be of little help otherwise.
Everyone began to move with urgency.
In contrast to her apprentices and subordinates, who were facing a great enemy, Serie, in the main chair, continued to glance at the files, when suddenly her eyes lit up as she asked:
"If the list has been decided, what about the people on it?"
"They will return, of course. They come from all over and are in a hurry. Many have already refused the conferment ceremony."
"There is one person who cannot be sent back. It's too dangerous. Going to the Elf Village now would be suicide," she said meaningfully. "Even I can see a very troublesome situation brewing."
"Who?"
"Have Flamme come see me."
The person in question was currently window-shopping around the Magic City, taking in the dazzling array of goods and the bustling streets. For a region so close to the front lines, it was a rare pocket of peace.
The girl with long, orange-red hair walked among the crowds, occasionally stopping by a bookstore to browse for treasures.
"If Master were here, she'd probably be too lazy to choose and just buy them all..."
Flamme thought back as she traveled far from home.
In fact, she could buy everything too. Before she left, Miriadel had given her a large sum for travel expenses, claiming that as an elder who was called 'big sister,' she hadn't done much and could only offer financial support. The amount turned out to be equivalent to the fortune of a mid-tier noble family.
The long-lived races really didn't care for money and were always lavish spenders, especially the alcoholic elf whose business was booming and who never lacked for treasure.
Possessing the most precious treasure of all, "time," they couldn't care less about anything else.
However, being frugal, Flamme would not wastefully squander it. She was just looking around and would buy some local specialties to take back for everyone in the village to try.
Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye.
"Mr. Lehmann?"
"Good morning. I've come to inform you that you will be awarded the insignia of a Great Mage and have been summoned by the President... Strange, you're the most relaxed of them all. You're not surprised to hear this now?"
"I was just sent out to get this over with quickly so I can go back. It doesn't matter if I'm a Great Mage or not."
"Is it because you've seen the pinnacle of the world that you're so calm?"
"I'm not that proud. I just feel like I should go back sooner to be at ease. This trip to the Magic Association is even farther than the last one to the Tomb of the Fallen King."
Flamme was always concerned about her home.
Especially since her leaving also had an element of laying low to avoid trouble.
______
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