The Northwind Fortress branch of the Magic Association.
As the closest major city to Elf Town, they were the first to feel the earthquake. Initially, no one thought much of it. The tremor was faint, and it wasn't the first time one had occurred; there was no cause for alarm.
However, half a day later, they discovered the forest had been dyed scarlet, and a powerful, chaotic maelstrom of magic raged unabated.
No one escaped. There were no survivors. Thus, no one knew what had happened.
The situation was critical.
Some witnesses reported a great dragon soaring through the sky, its destination the town itself. After a flash of lightning and a peal of thunder, all went silent.
It was strange. Those familiar with the sight knew it was Flamme. Why had she returned in such a hurry from the Great Mage examination? Had she received some news?
A palpable anxiety gripped the entire fortress. It was only thanks to Commander Wirn taking charge that a sense of stability was maintained, but he dared not dispatch an investigation team rashly.
They could only send scouts to search for traces from the periphery.
Everyone knew the extent of Frieren's magical power. For her to have unleashed such a signature force meant she had likely encountered a truly vicious demon. Who had managed to penetrate so deep into the rear of human territory?
The quarantine zone of contamination both protected Elf Town and sealed it off. With no information flowing, their anxiety grew, yet they found nothing.
It was not until a day later, when a message delivered by airship arrived from the Magic Association headquarters, that they finally learned the full story:
Macht and Grausam of the Seven Sages of Destruction had led a host of powerful demons to attack the town. This message served as both an intelligence briefing and an order: all mages were to be on high alert.
A great war was upon them.
Both the fortress command and the association branch braced for a formidable enemy. The combat prowess of the demons' top-tier powerhouses was well-documented, and now two had appeared at once.
One could only imagine the havoc wrought by Paradise Magic and Diagold. Both were nigh-unstoppable curses with terrifyingly lethal power.
Sending their current forces would be a suicide mission; numbers were meaningless against an indecipherable curse.
Fortunately, the battle had not yet spread.
Wirn still chose to take the risk, sending personnel to gradually advance into the forest. Mages who received the order from headquarters also began to approach from the sky.
Thanks to Frieren's tireless efforts in popularizing Flight Magic, the Northwind Fortress, benefiting from its proximity, had no shortage of skilled fliers. A glance from the air would be no problem and would also minimize the danger of the Scarlet Rot.
Yet the sight of Elf Town was still world-shattering:
A phantom of a city was superimposed over the modest buildings, hazy and indistinct. It was like looking up at a mountain that seems close but is, in fact, incredibly distant.
Some of the boldest tried to approach it, yet could never reach it; the phantom city always remained on a distant shore in their perception.
You are not worthy.
For some reason, a single whisper flickered through their minds, and no matter what they did, they could not step into this strange domain.
Vast grey-black structures lined the horizon, rising from the scarlet soil to pierce the clouds, blocking out even the sun, leaving only shadow.
What had happened within? No one knew.
Fortunately, some mages with detection-type magic managed to ascertain the situation and reported back:
"The intelligence is accurate. The Seven Sages of Destruction attacked the town. A fierce battle ensued, and many fell to curse magic, becoming golden statues. In the end, the elves activated a large-scale dream magic."
"It has the property of overriding existing abnormal statuses, so it's possible it can counteract the curses, but it was more likely intended to create a home-field advantage."
"Afterward, Flamme arrived shortly after and entered the dream…"
Though the details were unclear, they now understood the general course of events. As expected of elves, who have lived even longer than demons, to have retained such a powerful trump card. It was nothing short of a divine miracle.
It's just that, no matter how you looked at it, it didn't seem like a good thing.
That oppressive, dark, frenzied, and corrupted city seemed alive, its every breath filled with whispers.
It was dangerous.
Anyone who glanced at it would feel an instinct to keep their distance. The thing was too bizarre, a magic that was as bad as, if not worse than, any curse.
Since it was one of the elves' trump cards, it had to be extraordinary. It was best not to disturb it lightly.
Moreover, the contamination prevented them from studying it for too long.
After confirming the basic situation, the reconnaissance team was forced to withdraw ahead of schedule, as the permeating Scarlet Rot was difficult to resist.
They returned to the fortress, still shaken.
"Strange. Based on the intensity of previous encounters with demons, contact should mean instant death."
"So much time has passed; Lady Frieren must have modified it. I tested it; its effects seem to be diminished against non-demon targets. It can recognize the biological nature of its target."
"Vice-Chair Frieren considered this from the very beginning. There were rumors the All-Knowing had their eyes on her. It seems those rumors were true."
"The demons have failed."
"It's too early to draw conclusions. It's probably quite lively inside the dream. Until the entire Elf Town reawakens, we cannot definitively say who has won or lost."
"If this place becomes a wasteland, it will be a major loss for the allied forces of humanity."
At the thought of the terrible consequences, the meeting room fell silent.
Times had changed. Although Elf Town appeared small, it was tied to considerable capital; a great deal of wealth was stored there.
Even now, the nobles who had deposited their money there were not panicking, believing that "the Seven Sages of Destruction attacked but were still repelled," and that their vaults were perfectly safe.
They felt they could continue to increase their savings, having almost taken it for granted that the elven race would overcome this crisis.
It seemed absurd, but they had seen the truth: if the demons truly possessed the power to penetrate deep into their heartland and slaughter at will, what would money matter? Their lives would be forfeit first.
This was the crux of the gamble in this battle.
If the elves won, it would mean the demons' meticulously planned infiltration was useless.
If they lost...
The demons would kill everyone.
The small Elf Town not only held a vast amount of capital but also concerned the morale of the entire front line. Frieren's safety, in particular, was paramount.
As a symbolic figure in the popularization of magic, her influence and prestige was immeasurable. As long as she lived and maintained her stance against the demons, followers would flock to her banner, not to mention she was constantly strengthening her own side's magic.
So now one question lay before them: should this be kept secret?
All eyes fell upon Commander Wirn. The man on the spot is better than the man in charge; his attitude was what mattered most.
"I worked alongside Lady Frieren for a time. You all know about the battle of the Labyrinth Kingdom. I believe my comrade-in-arms will undoubtedly win. There is no need to suppress the news. Announce it exactly as it is."
"The demons' painstaking surprise attack was ineffective. Is that not a boost to morale?"
"And I believe it won't take too long. The key is to be cautious of the battle's aftershocks from the elven forest. Once the Vice-Chair awakens, there is sure to be a truly great war."
His words sent a jolt through everyone.
It was true.
No one would underestimate the destructive power of Frieren's fighting style. When she returned from her slumber, she would absolutely teach the demons a harsh lesson.
Even if they didn't die in the dream, a large-scale clash would occur in reality. What they should be worried about was an even more terrifying earthquake.
With Wirn as their anchor and coordinating their efforts, everyone relaxed slightly and began to prepare with great urgency.
They would protect the elven forest and trust in their comrade.
So tired.
Utterly exhausted, Flamme clutched her head as she slowly sat up on the operating table. She rubbed her temples with a pained expression, her first instinct to activate a defensive magic.
The saving grace was that her mana flowed normally.
Holding her breath, she finally looked around. The space was filled with scalpels, hemostats, bandages, and other equipment. The faint smell of alcohol hung in the air.
It was a familiar scent to anyone who had worked in a laboratory; this was most likely a hospital.
A closer look revealed that someone had been here before her and had ransacked the place, leaving nothing useful behind.
That had Frieren's style written all over it.
At the same time, an inexplicable whisper echoed in her mind: "Seek the pale blood to transcend the hunt..."
The next moment, the voice vanished, leaving Flamme baffled. But she silently committed it to memory and began to practice her magic on the spot.
She only breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that all her abilities were functioning normally. As long as they worked.
She even had a feeling: her body had become lighter, her mana more active.
"I should be in the dreamscape my master created, a space between realities. But why is my magic growing stronger? Strange."
"The priority now is to find Sister Miriadel."
Since Frieren had entrusted the failsafe to her childhood friend, she must be the one among the conscious who has the most information, able to navigate this unfamiliar land as if it were her own home.
First, rendezvous.
Having made up her mind, the red-haired girl quickly walked out of the room, only to suddenly run into a large hound:
Its fur was entirely grey-black, its limbs splayed wide. With its back to her, it was crouched on the ground, gnawing on a corpse.
Suddenly, its ears pricked up. It turned to reveal a savage face, with sharp fangs and teeth, drool and bits of flesh dripping from its lips.
The next moment, it lunged.
Flamme, having already sensed it, swung the Glintstone blade in her hand with all her might, instantly carving a deep gash in the target's abdomen, a wound so deep the bone was visible.
Even so, the monster charged on, completely unaffected. Seeing this, she sidestepped the attack.
Now she was in a superior position, looking down, while her opponent's back was turned—a massive opening.
With a swift fall of her blade, she struck the weak point of its neck. As expected, blood sprayed, and the ferocious monster lost its head.
Still uneasy, Flamme delivered a few more blows before stopping.
"...Incredibly resilient, and its bone structure is wrong, as if it grew savagely..."
It was hard not to be reminded of the little stories Frieren used to tell at the dinner table. She didn't want to believe it, but she had to see what was outside first.
Click.
Pushing the door open, Flamme froze on the spot.
Could a city truly exist where the entire ground was paved with stone? Even the streetlamps had intricate, beautiful carvings.
As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but massive marble buildings, soaring and majestic. How many quarries would have to be emptied to build this?
And their proportions were staggering; ceilings were easily four or five meters high, spires overlooked the four corners of the city, and bridges spanned the air, leading to unknown destinations.
Awe was the only word to describe it. The financial and human resources behind this city must be astronomical; not even the wealth of an entire nation could have built it.
Was this really a dream? Why did every touch, every breath, every heartbeat feel so real?
"Is this still Elf Town?"
Flamme could only hold fast to the belief that dreams could be deceptively real, remembering Frieren's warning not to take the dream as reality, lest she be forever lost in its so-called truth.
A thick sense of unease enveloped her as she stood on the street, unsure of which way to go.
She tried to extend her spiritual power for large-scale perception, but it was like trying to see through a thick fog; it couldn't be extended.
All acts of scrying were impossible here, as if forbidden by the dream's master. All spiritual power was suppressed.
She would have to find people the hard way, measuring the distance with her own two feet.
With that thought, the red-haired girl picked a random street and started walking.
Elsewhere.
In a hidden basement, the group of demons had gathered. However, one unlucky member was covered in thick fur, with slit pupils, sharp claws, and fangs—the signs of a crazed beast.
"He's beyond saving," Grausam declared. "Blame your own weak will. To waver in this dream is to contract the beast plague."
"And I can feel it. The master of the dream, Frieren, is constantly rejecting us."
The beast-like demon gritted its teeth. "I can hold on."
Macht stepped forward and used Diagold on the most severely infected parts. It wasn't a rescue, but it was the closest thing to one, at least slowing the process.
But he immediately found his own mana flow obstructed, as if he were carrying an immense weight. It was extremely uncomfortable.
It wasn't just him; all the demon mages felt their abilities had become sluggish.
They were unwelcome. Simply walking the streets invited attacks from swarms of monsters, forcing them to temporarily take shelter.
"Although Frieren is still asleep, her subconscious is constantly rejecting demons. My advice is to terminate the operation and wait for the dream to be dispelled."
"Grausam, are you certain?"
"Of course."
"Fine. My Diagold is meaningless here; killing people in a dream serves no purpose. Besides, the dream seems to have the effect of overriding curses, so it can most likely nullify our abilities."
"Exterminating the elves is no longer important. Killing Frieren is the higher priority. Or rather, once she is dead, no other powerful elf will be so diligent in protecting the settlements. For them, having emotions and great power is a weakness. Frieren is the only exception."
Though deeply reluctant, they could only choose to lie low and hide for the time being.
For demons, having to conceal their presence was galling. If the dream's master were to notice them, it would be a disaster.
Frieren's subconscious had never given up searching for them.
The sheer will to eliminate the invading demons caused them a visceral rejection. Was this divine retribution?
Grausam continued to advise: "This city is the absolute home ground of Frieren and her companions. We must remain hidden. Don't expect to achieve anything in this dream. Let's wait for an opportunity for it to be dispelled."
"You can consider the beast plague a type of curse. If you act rashly, you will end up just like him."
The wounded demon on the floor, breathing his last, muttered:
"You can die in a dream?"
"It's far more terrifying than death. Your mind will be trapped here forever, becoming Frieren's pawn, to be commanded at will just like those monsters roaming the streets. I imagine none of you want that, do you?"
He glanced around at the few remaining members of his squad, who could only nod. It was better to hide. They couldn't confront the ruler of the dream head-on.
The demons, who had always spread disaster, had hit a wall of iron—something far more terrifying.
Theoretically, if Frieren wished it, she could forcibly remodel the minds of all who entered the dream without distinction.
The moment they fell asleep, the conditions would be met, and she could transform them into beastly monsters. But she chose not to, instead using this terrifying land as a place to undo curses.
Of course, there was one thing Grausam didn't say: as the master, Frieren's consciousness was not fully active.
She was in a standoff with another ruler.
If this benevolent master were to fail, they would all be doomed. It wouldn't matter if they were demon or human; the dream would likely spread from Elf Town to encompass the entire world.
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