"Itadakimasu."
"Masu."
Linie mimics Himmel, Eisen, and me, parroting without understanding. Not that I'm any better—copying human habits without grasping them. Quintessentially demonic, I suppose.
A feast sprawls before us, cooked by Eisen, not me. Himmel's party seems adept at cooking, though maybe not Heiter or that elf. The quantity's absurd, far too much for four, even adventurers. I spot Himmel's favorite, Luf omelets—a sign Eisen's one of them.
"Not eating?" Himmel asks.
"You seriously eat all this?" I say.
"Too much?" he says. "This is normal for adventurers, right?"
"Obviously," Eisen says.
The two boast like it's nothing. Are they insane, or are all adventurers like this?
"We don't eat this much at home," I say.
"You barely eat," Himmel says. "Me eating alone looks weird, right?"
"Whatever," I say. "No giant hamburger, though. Thought it'd show up."
Himmel's been oddly considerate. Cooking this much daily would be a chore—I'd make just my share. But no oversized hamburger, thankfully. I braced for it.
"Sadly, that's for special days," Himmel says. "Right, Eisen?"
"Right," Eisen says. "It honors warriors."
"What's with this warrior stuff?" I say. "Don't send me that recipe then. What a hassle."
"You made the hamburger?" Eisen asks.
"Yeah," I say. "Thanks to someone."
"What's that?" Himmel says, eating a Luf omelet.
His nerve is unreal. What's a warrior, anyway? The concept's muddled. I recall making that hamburger to mark my subjugation—harassment, thanks to Eisen's recipe. My complaint misses him entirely. I can't read him at all. His gaze shifts to Linie, who—
She's chomping an apple, ignoring the feast. Hand-grabbing, nodding as she chews, she's like a fed critter.
"Apples were the right call," Himmel says. "Matching you, Aura. Real parent-child vibe."
"Cut the jokes," I say. "I ordered her with Azeliese. Of course she eats them."
His depressing quip earns a scowl. Linie's under the same three rules as me, plus a new one to curb her human-eating urge—apples, like me. Less hassle. I like them, but not like her. Maybe she always did.
(She's an odd demon… more than just mimicry.)
I analyze Linie, calmly, as a demon. She's unusual. "Mother" is for begging, not daily use, yet she calls me that, knowing I'm a demon. Why? Does she understand "mother," or something else? She mimics my words too. Himmel says kids do that, but she's a demon, not human. It must be her demonic trait—mimicry.
"Eat slowly," Eisen says. "No enemies here."
"…? Okay," Linie says.
Eisen fusses over her, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, worried she'll choke. Incomprehensible. Why care for a demon child? He's as soft as Himmel, just quieter. Odd taste.
"Nice one, Eisen," Himmel says. "Eat up. We can't hog it all."
"Right," Eisen says.
Himmel offers Eisen a bottle; Eisen raises a glass. A mundane exchange, like I saw endlessly with Heiter. Yet—
"Wait," I say.
Instinct stops them—not demonic, but primal. Something says this can't happen.
"What?" Himmel says.
"Don't play dumb," I say. "What's in your hand?"
"This?" he says. "Just something from Eisen's place—ah!?"
I snatch the bottle from his flustered grip. Impulse or suspicion? I check it.
"…Heiter's wine, as expected," I say. "Still had some? I said no drinking."
I dumped it days ago, yet here it is, swapped into Eisen's bottle. Demon-level deception. Unheroic cunning.
"No!" Himmel says. "It's… Eisen loves grapes! I wanted him to try it."
"Didn't you swear no lies to me?" I say. "Fine. Eisen can drink. Happy?"
"No way!" he says. "Drinking alone's sad! Booze is for sharing!"
"Then I'll drink with him," I say. "You chew apples with Linie."
The scoundrel hero whines like a child, rivaling Heiter. I allow Eisen to drink, but he just wanted it himself. Linie, still gnawing her apple, watches curiously, as does Eisen, silently. How long does this last?
"Enough," Eisen says. "Linie's watching. Drinking in front of kids is bad. I'll hold it, Himmel. Okay?"
"…Yes," Himmel says.
"Idiot," I say.
"Idiot," Linie echoes.
Eisen's verdict is final, even for Himmel. The party's father figure, huh? I don't get "father," but it's someone to obey, even for a hero. Linie mimics me, no longer questioning—progress, maybe.
That was the chaotic first dinner at Eisen's—
"All done," I say, removing my apron after cleaning up. "I'm heading out."
Himmel plays with Linie, who dodges him. He's recovered, but she's not warming up. Who's entertaining who? I'm too tired to comment.
"Out where?" he asks.
"Mana training," I say. "Haven't done it properly lately. The forest at night's perfect."
I don my robe. Mana training's my routine, but this hero's party tour's disrupted it. As a demon and mage, I can't let it slide. This place is too distracting, but the forest's quiet—ideal.
"What about Linie?" Himmel says. "Not sleeping with her?"
"Why would I?" I say.
"You're her mother," he says.
"I'm not," I say.
His nonsense flows naturally. Is he serious? Enough with the mother talk. Why sleep with her?
"Kidding," he says. "Kids feel safe with adults—mothers—sleeping beside them. For her, that's you."
"Sure," I say. "You just want your mom to tuck you in. You love her, right?"
I throw his words back. He loves his mother—probably got that treatment. Now he's pushing it on me. Pointless, as always. I'm not his or Linie's mother. Why can't he see that?
"True," he says. "I dream of it still. I want that for her."
"You sure she's a demon?" I say.
"Of course," he says. "Like you."
He answers without hesitation, making it worse. He knows we're demons yet treats us human. Infuriating. No one—human or demon—can change his stubbornness. So annoying.
"Do what you want," I say. "You're on Linie duty tonight."
Talking's pointless. I turn and leave. My eyes meet Eisen's—still creepy. He's satisfied, I bet. Time to get this done.
"She's leaving, huh?" Himmel says. "Cold mother, right, Linie?"
"Right," Linie says.
"I can hear you," I say.
Himmel's final jab, roping in Linie, sours my mood as I head to the forest, thinking Stroh and Lily were easier—
I steady my breath, focusing on my mana's flow. It sharpens, affirming my demonic, mage essence—my purpose. It's been a while, but I'm not rusty. Overworried, maybe. My mana's growing steadily. I should be pleased, but I'm not. Why?
(Just increasing mana's pointless…)
It's meaningful—Azeliese relies on mana, my optimal tool. But against those immune, it's useless.
(Azeliese doesn't work on his party… monsters!)
Himmel's a given. Heiter matches my mana, with goddess blessings. Eisen lacks mana but, as humanity's strongest warrior, likely resists through willpower. Worst is that elf—Heiter said her mana's double mine. No chance.
Azeliese can't beat them directly. Bad matchup.
(I thought hiding until Himmel dies would work… naive.)
Avoid fighting—wait out their lifespans. A long-lived demon's strategy. It was sound, except for that elf.
(I need to research elf lifespans, but she's likely longer-lived than me. Unavoidable.)
Heiter said she's over a thousand years old. Long-lived beings don't age visibly, but she's young. I can't outlast her by hiding.
"You're a cautious, cowardly demon. After losing to Himmel, you hid. Knowing Frieren's power, you wouldn't fight."
Heiter's insult burns. I'd flee from Frieren, not fight—a fact my demonic instincts confirm. Unforgivable. Live in fear of her for centuries? A great demon like me? Unthinkable.
(I can't beat her as is… I need another way.)
Escape Himmel, then what? Ignoring that, I focus on fighting Frieren.
Rebuilding my undead army's simplest, but it's slow and risky—Frieren might notice. Numbers may not work; past battles showed why. Frieren's party held back against my army, respecting the dead—Himmel's keepsake concept explains it. That's why Eisen left little impression despite his title. But—
(Frieren's different… closer to demonic sensibilities.)
She blasted my army without mercy, unlike the others. An outlier, almost demonic. Numbers won't work—her mana would crush them. She knows Azeliese, too. If she counters my mana, I'm done. Demons can't hide mana.
Hostages? Effective, as with Himmel. But if Frieren ignores them, it's useless. If Heiter's right and she can nullify Azeliese, it's over.
(Empty theorizing… I need a new approach. How to beat her…)
Linie's image flashes—her mimicry, a demon's strength. It's how we survive. I'm different now, with new experience.
Mimic Himmel's party—their strength's source. I know it, felt it, understand it.
Their strength: allies, not just obedient undead. Coordination beat me. I saw it in a recent quest—Himmel's teamwork toppled stronger foes. Human strength. Even the Demon King fell.
Frieren's terror: deceiving and killing demons with mana, a mage's disgraceful tactic. It exploits our carelessness—her "Gravekeeper" title's root. As a demon, how do I counter her?
A spark of insight flickers, interrupted by footsteps. No surprise—I was waiting. I came here for this. I thought I'd wait till dawn.
"…Took you long enough," I say. "I'm tired of waiting."
Moonlight reveals humanity's strongest warrior. Our first one-on-one. Like with Heiter, a fateful debate begins—
--+--
T/N: Although I'm an inexperienced Editor, I do have a Patreon account! Although it seems like I don't have many supporters right now, my webnovel will be released in full every day, and the advanced chapters will be uploaded to Patreon.
It may not be worth it now, but who knows, it might be different in the future. Who knows!
patreon.com/Greyhounds
If you want to see it, then why not?