I step through the door, feigning nonchalance. The same routine motions, as always. A hint of hostility, a single out-of-place action, and he might sense something. My opponent isn't Fern—it's Heiter, the priest of our Hero's Party, a man whose skill rivaled monsters in his prime. Even now, aged and far from his peak, his mastery of the Goddess's magic could spell trouble. There's only one thing for me to do.
"I'm back," I say, the words slipping out.
I've only started saying this since staying here these past few days, and it still feels foreign. The door creaks open, revealing an old man with white hair hunched over a desk, scribbling something. Heiter. He's aged far more than when we parted after Himmel's funeral twenty years ago. But I can't let my guard down. Failure isn't an option.
"Oh, Frieren," Heiter says, looking up. "Back already? Did you find Fern—"
Before he finishes, I raise my staff and unleash a spell. No time for counterattacks or evasion—a surprise strike. To think I'd have to do this to a human, a comrade. I shove aside the guilt, acting as the cold mage I must be. A burst of mana engulfs everything.
"Too bright!" Heiter yelps. "What in the world are you doing? Have some respect for an old man's frail body!"
His indignant, all-too-familiar reaction shatters my resolve. My desperate precaution was nothing but misplaced worry.
"You seem fine," I mutter, lowering my staff. "Sorry… but call me old again, and I won't forgive you."
"My apologies," he chuckles. "I'd rather not face three days and nights of your tears again."
He laughs it off, oblivious to my tension, and I can only sigh. At least he's unharmed. But that doesn't mean I'll let the "old" comment slide. Next time, I'll make him regret it with a flood of tears.
"What was that spell, anyway?" he asks, still grinning.
"A dispelling spell," I reply, tucking my staff away. "I used it on Fern too. Looks like you're both clear."
The spell was no ordinary dispelling magic—it was crafted to counter Aura's Azeliese, the spell of submission. The Seven Sages of Destruction, Aura included, wield magic that defies human understanding, more akin to curses than spells. Their principles are unknowable, but not unbreakable. If a phenomenon can be observed, it can be countered. I witnessed Azeliese in battle long ago, saw the fallen heroes it enslaved. Over the past eighty years, I developed this dispelling spell to undo it. Never again will I let Himmel scold me for failing.
It's untested, so I can't be certain, but there was no resistance when I cast it. Heiter and Fern are free of any curse.
"I see," Heiter says, his tone softening as he grasps my intent. "You thought we were under Aura's control."
As expected of Heiter. Even aged, he's still the greatest priest I know. Maybe quitting drinking sharpened his wits.
"So what Fern said was true," I say, my voice sharper than intended. "Aura was here. Why didn't you tell me?"
I can't help the edge in my tone. This isn't something you brush off with "I didn't know." I feel guilty for what I did to Fern—she's waiting in the forest now, probably confused. If Heiter had been controlled, this could've turned into a fight. I'll need to apologize to her properly later.
"I wasn't hiding it," Heiter says, his voice calm. "I didn't tell Fern to keep quiet either. It's just… I wasn't sure how to explain it to you."
"What does that mean?" I ask, baffled.
It's true, then—Aura, a demon, was here. But why keep it from me? He's not under her spell, so what's his excuse? Why would Aura come here? And what does "close" mean? Questions pile up, each more confusing than the last.
Heiter shifts, his expression serious. "Frieren, have you heard of a place called Freesia?"
The question throws me further off balance. Why bring that up now? But Heiter's not teasing—his face is earnest. When he's like this, it's best to answer honestly. He's a priest, after all, far better at navigating people than I'll ever be.
"Oh, that place where humans and demons supposedly live together?" I say, rolling my eyes. "Humans love their fairy tales. They'll believe any rumor, no matter how absurd."
Freesia. A story I've heard in passing over the last twenty years or so. A paradise where humans and demons coexist, somewhere in the north. Ridiculous. Humans are suckers for tall tales—rumors of the Demon King's revival or heroes seduced by demons. Can't they come up with something more plausible?
But Heiter's voice is grave, his eyes steady. "No, Frieren. Freesia is real. And it's governed by Aura—not the Guillotine, but the Scales."
I stare, disbelief etched on my face. A real country? Run by Aura? Why call her "the Scales" instead of "the Guillotine"? More importantly, a place where humans and demons coexist is unthinkable. I'd sooner believe the Demon King was back.
"You don't believe me," Heiter says, reading my expression. "I didn't either, at first. Here, this is their doctrine. I helped write it. They came to revise it recently."
He hands me a book, undeterred by my shock. I take it, flipping it open. The words inside are absurd, like a child's fantasy:
"Demons shall not prey on humans."
"Neither demons nor humans shall wage war."
"If these are upheld, all shall be granted equality."
I snap the book shut, tossing it onto the desk. "Is this a joke? Demons following rules like these? Everyone's been fooled. Humans and demons living together is nothing but a pipe dream."
I can't bear to read more. Have humans forgotten what demons are in just eighty years since the Demon King's fall? This doctrine is a fairy tale, nothing more.
"A pipe dream, huh?" Heiter murmurs.
"Exactly," I say, my voice sharp. "You remember what happened in that village, don't you? And yet you're helping demons? Why repeat the same mistake?"
It was early in our journey. We spared a demon child, and it led to tragedy. A mistake Himmel and I could never forget. If I'd been firmer, if I'd killed that demon without hesitation, it wouldn't have happened. I still regret that day. And now Heiter's aiding demons, risking the same outcome. Even if nothing's happened yet, it's only a matter of time. Demons always deceive.
"You're right," Heiter says softly. "But I chose to believe in her… no, in the her that Himmel believed in."
"Himmel?" I blurt out, stunned.
Why bring him up? And believing in Aura, of all things? Is Heiter under a spell after all? Did my magic fail?
"Do you remember the day we left the capital?" Heiter asks.
The barrage of questions leaves me reeling, but I can only answer. "How could I forget? Himmel and Eisen nearly got executed for mouthing off to the king."
I recall that chaotic day—Himmel and Eisen's insolence almost ending our adventure before it began. We were lucky to escape with our lives.
Heiter chuckles. "True. And all we got was ten copper coins. No one believed in us. Defeating the Demon King? Just a pipe dream."
I listen in silence, sensing where this is going. That phrase again—pipe dream. The same words I used, born of resignation. Back then, the king, the people, everyone had given up. Even I had, after losing to Mahato, one of the Seven Sages. I was too scared to challenge the Demon King, consumed by my need for revenge.
"But we did it," Heiter says. "Himmel made that pipe dream a reality."
Himmel reached out to me, pulled me back from despair. He carried the hopes of countless people and defeated the Demon King. I know that better than anyone. And now I understand why Heiter's telling me this.
"Are you saying… Himmel dreamed of humans and demons living together?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
A pipe dream of coexistence. The same ideal as the Demon King we defeated. Who could believe a hero and a demon shared the same dream?
"Yes," Heiter says, his expression wistful. "Though he gave up on it during our journey. It wasn't something he could share, especially with you."
I can see why. Our battles against the Demon King's forces were brutal. I, more than anyone, harbored hatred for demons. Himmel must've kept his dream buried, knowing I'd never understand.
"Even for Himmel, some things are impossible," I say. "This is harder than defeating the Demon King."
The divide between humans and demons is too vast. Even the Demon King couldn't bridge it, leading to a war where one side had to perish. If anyone could achieve such a dream, it'd be a feat greater than our victory.
"Maybe," Heiter admits. "But Himmel entrusted that dream to her. And she's carrying it forward, just like you, me, and Eisen carry his legacy."
I can't comprehend it. Why Aura? What happened between her and Himmel? I want to scream, to demand answers. If Himmel were here, I'd cry for three days straight out of frustration. But part of me thinks—that's just like him.
"He was too soft-hearted," I mutter. "He's being fooled."
Heiter laughs. "Can't argue with that. She'd probably say the same."
Being lumped in with that demon rankles, but Heiter's amusement is infectious. It's as if the world has changed in the eighty years I've been away.
"I won't say more," Heiter says. "But someday, see it for yourself. See what became of Himmel's dream."
His request is selfish, but so very Heiter. I can't refuse him, not when he puts it like that. My only resistance is a jab of my own.
"You might not be around by then."
"Then tell me in heaven," he replies smoothly. "Himmel and I will be waiting."
He's always one step ahead. Even after a millennium, I'll never outtalk this priest.
"Fine," I say, exasperated. "But I'm teaching Fern the truth about demons. She's too naive—it's dangerous."
"Please do," Heiter agrees, almost too eagerly. "I've told her they're special, but coming from you, it'll sink in better."
His casual mention of "they" throws me. Aura and others? More incomprehensible demons? I'm starting to feel like I'm the crazy one.
This is going nowhere. I turn to leave, my mind a tangle of problems, but the worst has passed. First, I need to fetch Fern—she's probably tired of waiting in the forest. Then I remember something.
"Oh, one more thing," I say, pulling an item from my bag and plopping it onto Heiter's head.
"What's this?" he asks, touching it.
"A gift. Fern made it with her flower spell. You and Eisen had a blast with these back then, didn't you?"
A crown of flowers. I remember Heiter and Eisen, laughing like idiots, wearing them in a field I conjured during our travels. It was embarrassing to watch, but they were so happy. A silly, precious memory.
It's also a subtle apology for the dispelling spell, but I won't say that out loud.
"Thank you," Heiter says, his voice soft. "You're a kind girl, Frieren."
He pats my head, just like he used to, with the same words. Only he would dare. It stirs a memory—Flamme, my late master, stroking my hair with the same gentle warmth.
"Stop that," I grumble. "Don't treat me like a kid."
"Better than being called old, right?"
"Boorish priest."
Our usual banter fills the room as I head for the door. This is us—unchanged, even after all this time. For me, it feels like yesterday; for Heiter, it's been a lifetime. Some things stay the same, but others change. There are parts of my friends I never knew, moments in the years I missed. I need to learn them.
First, my promise to Heiter: analyze the grimoires and teach Fern magic. After that, a new purpose awaits. To retrace the steps of our journey with Himmel and uncover something else.
The tale of Hero Himmel, after the Demon King's defeat.
This is the beginning of Funeral Frieren's new journey—