"Phew… I feel refreshed."
Stretching deeply, I let out a sigh. Truly refreshed, as if the past days were a lie. It's past noon already. I must've collapsed after three days and nights of wailing, sleeping through it all. My memory's hazy, but it's not my first time. No Heiter to lecture me, no Fern to silently judge—they're in the Holy City for my sake. They'll be back by evening. I owe Heiter another big one. I came to repay him, but my debts keep growing.
(Guess I'll tackle his request… and Fern's training.)
All I can do is decipher Heiter's grimoire and teach Fern magic. That's my way of repaying him. It'll take at least five years, though.
(Five years… a blink for me, but not for them…)
Nibbling a light meal, I sink into thought. Five years is nothing to me, passing in an instant. But for others, it's different. Fifty years, then? An eternity, unimaginable to me. I learned that three days ago.
(I thought I understood how short human lives are back then…)
I recall that day—sending Himmel off, crying. I don't know why I wept. I'm still searching for that reason. Maybe I haven't grown since then. In the fifty years I missed, everyone changed, leaving me behind. How do I catch up? But by the time I do, they'll all be gone.
(Eisen said something about taking a disciple…)
I remember Eisen's parting words: a journey's better with a companion. I brushed it off—humans die too fast. I thought a dwarf, living longer than humans, would understand. But Eisen disagreed. Encounters aren't like that, he said. He understood the gap between us and humans, how to bridge it. I should've listened more closely.
"What's this…?"
After cleaning the dishes, I spot a book on Heiter's desk. Unusual—he must've left in a rush. I pick it up idly. A scripture, but not for the Goddess.
(The Aura Cult… what a nightmare.)
Aura the Guillotine, now the Scales—irrelevant detail. She's truly revered in Frezier. I can't dismiss it as a bad joke or rumor anymore. I don't fully trust Heiter, but I can't deny her existence.
I skim the scripture. Typical teachings, nothing special—except they're absurd, as Heiter described.
"Do not eat humans." "Do not harm others." "Humans and demons are equal in this nation."
To anyone who knows demons, these precepts are laughable. If they were possible, humans and demons would coexist already. Even humans couldn't follow them. Yet Aura has the power to enforce them.
("Blessing"… how tasteless.)
"Blessing" peppers the text—likely Azeliese, her obedience spell. Utterly tasteless. It forces submission on demons and humans alike—a curse, not a blessing. Who named it? Not Heiter—maybe Aura, or someone unhinged. The scripture treats humans and demons as animals, caged together, with moral guidelines to temper the chaos—probably Heiter's work. It's a miraculous balance, embracing the contradiction of humans and demons.
(Why is she doing this? It's like a child's game.)
I can't fathom Aura's motive. Even accounting for demons' incomprehensibility, this is abnormal. Azeliese makes this scripture and nation possible, but without it, they'd collapse. Any child could see that. What does Aura gain?
(Maybe she's been deceiving Himmel and Heiter all along…)
Heiter's story: if Aura's been lying since Himmel bound her, it makes sense. She'd have deceived them for nearly eighty years—a demon unmatched in deceit. Building a nation, ruling humans, only to betray them. But it's too inefficient. If she wanted control, why bother with demon-human coexistence? Heiter said she was already revered. No need for this charade. So—
(Is she really mimicking Himmel? Her?)
It fits. An unbelievable hypothesis, but it aligns with Heiter's theory. Human-demon coexistence—a dream Himmel abandoned. Is she pursuing it? Impossible. Yet why? There's no way to know. Himmel and Heiter never asked her true thoughts. Demons deceive—none can verify their words. Except one way.
(Azeliese could reveal what she's thinking.)
Her own spell could make the impossible possible. Himmel proved it. Did he make her confess? No, he wouldn't. Nor would Heiter. They're too soft-hearted, unlike me.
(If I fight Aura… it's all about countering Azeliese. Tricky magic.)
I cast aside my doubts, thinking as Frieren the Slayer. To defeat demons, to vanquish Aura the Scales, it all hinges on countering Azeliese.
(She knows my mana concealment… no surprise attacks.)
That's a disadvantage. Heiter revealed my trump card to her—I should've numbed him then, but I let it slide. She'd have seen through it eventually. It's better to have clarity. My usual tactics won't work, but neither will hers. I know Azeliese and have countermeasures. We're evenly matched, if not better.
(The issue is her undead army… or rather, her human followers.)
Her undead army is the real problem. Most were lost in our past battle, and Himmel's command likely prevented their return. Has she rebuilt it since his death? If so, how large? Dispelling them takes massive mana—I'd rather avoid overusing it. Since she knows my concealment, she won't use Azeliese recklessly. A war of attrition is likely.
Worse are her human followers. If she uses them as shields, I'm restricted. A trained guard of mages or warriors would make it harder. Defeating her alone might be impossible. What to do?
(Just theorizing… but I must plan for the worst. I'm the only one left to fight.)
I mock myself for overthinking, but I can't stop. It's my role, unlike Himmel, Heiter, or Eisen. A heartless one balances our soft-hearted party. No one's left to fight beside me.
(Time to resume that overdue deciphering.)
Enough. I head to the study to tackle Heiter's grimoire request. I can't just sit here—it's embarrassing. Opening my bag to retrieve the grimoire, something falls and rolls across the floor.
(Himmel's ring… always losing it.)
I crouch to pick it up—a ring with a mirror lotus design, a gift from Himmel during our journey. Too small, it always slips away. It's not my fault for being disorganized. Maybe I need a spell to find it.
(What would Himmel think of me now?)
I hold the ring up, gazing at it, thinking of Himmel. Would he say I haven't changed, striking a pose like when he put it on my finger? So childish.
"…Hm?"
A strange feeling. Staring at the ring, my gaze shifts to the ceiling—a subtle difference, unnoticed unless you look long.
"Nnngh."
I grab a ladder and climb toward the ceiling. There's a slight gap, a raised panel. I know this from our journey—dungeon traps and gimmicks.
(As expected… a mechanism.)
A push-activated trap, common in dungeons. I press the ceiling carefully, hearing a dull thud—beneath the bookshelf.
I try moving it, but it's too heavy. Reluctantly, I remove all the books. Oddly, it's fun—maybe our adventures rubbed off on me. What's hidden here?
"Phew… that should do it."
Satisfied, hands on hips, I push the bookshelf aside. A partially open floor panel reveals a hidden space.
(Heiter's hiding something… liquor, maybe? To avoid Fern's scolding.)
Liquor's all I can imagine Heiter hiding. He said he quit but couldn't toss it. Plausible, but this hiding spot feels off. More like something Himmel would do. I reach into the compartment, expecting bottles, but—
"…Books?"
Not what I expected. Dozens of books, not just one. Dangerous grimoires? No, I realize instantly why.
(Himmel's autobiography…?)
I've seen it before. During our journey, Himmel wrote it. He lamented losing it. Did he find it after we parted?
I open a book, scanning the pages. It's his handwriting—more diary than autobiography. Did he not know the difference? But one entry stops my breath.
(His diary… after our journey?)
The date marks a year after we parted.
My hands tremble. My heartbeat drowns everything. My body's hot. I've never felt this.
Drawn in, I turn the pages, hands shaking. Why am I so nervous, so afraid?
I read on, time frozen, as if only I and this book exist.
But my pace slows. I don't know why.
"…What?"
A voice escapes me. The open page is wet, like raindrops. But it's not rain.
My tears. I'm crying again, cheeks wet. I don't know why, but it's the same tears as that day.
Guided, I reach for the ring—Himmel's mirror lotus gift. It's—
"I'm back," Heiter's gentle voice calls. "Feeling better, Frieren?"
Instinctively, I hide the ring and diary in my bag. Why? I don't know. I didn't wipe my tears in time.
"Sorry," Heiter says. "Too soon?"
"No, I'm fine," I say. "Sorry for worrying you."
"Good," he says. "Don't push yourself. I bought Merkur pudding in the Holy City. Shall we eat when you're ready?"
"Thanks," I say. "I'll be there soon."
He notices my tears but cares for me anyway. Heiter's grown so much. He claims he hasn't changed, but I know—always have.
Cleaning the room, Frieren heads to Heiter and Fern, as if nothing happened. But her bag holds the diary tightly.
Frieren the Slayer will read on—the epilogue of a lost hero, unaware of what it will bring—