Three days had passed since Serie declared Ren "unqualified."
Morning in Äußerst was wrapped in a thin veil of mist.
Ren changed into a clean, formal outfit at the inn.
Even if he hadn't become a First-Class Mage, he could still attend the ceremony as part of Fern's "supporting crew."
…Or so he thought.
"Sorry, Frieren-sama, and Mr. Ren."
At the Magic Association's front desk, the bespectacled receptionist spoke in a crisp, official tone. "By Serie-sama's order, Frieren-sama and the big liar named Ren are forbidden to enter."
"Huh?" Ren blinked, genuinely caught off guard.
This wasn't how the story was supposed to go.
"Fern, Stark—go on in," Frieren said, as if she'd expected this. "Ren and I will wait outside. Besides, ceremonies full of empty speeches are boring."
"Then I'll stay with you and Mr. Ren," Stark said loyally.
After Fern went inside, Frieren actually patted Ren with a hint of schadenfreude. "Didn't expect you to make her mad too. What's this about 'big liar,' anyway?"
Ren snorted. "I'm not talking to someone who's about to get a bruised shoulder."
He turned and left Frieren and Stark behind.
Lernen was going to show up and smack Frieren around later—Ren had zero interest in being anywhere near that mess.
...
The Next Day.
Frieren's party decided to leave the magic city.
Before they departed, Denken came to find Ren. Bringing Laufen with him.
"Ren, my young friend."
The old man looked lively, dressed in a brand-new robe.
"Old man Denken?" Ren was surprised.
He hadn't expected to be on anyone's good side.
"Even if you didn't obtain the qualification," Denken said, stroking his beard, "I still believe you were the most outstanding battle-mage in this examination."
"Serie-sama may have her reasons," he continued, "but in my eyes, your strength has already reached the level of a First-Class Mage."
"Thanks for the compliment," Ren said with a small smile. "But unqualified is unqualified. Nothing to complain about."
"Open-minded." Denken nodded, approval in his eyes. "The Northern Plateau is full of danger. The remnants of demons are stirring again. Even with Frieren around, you mustn't be careless."
"I'll be careful."
Just then, Laufen stepped forward, holding a delicate woven basket and thrusting it toward him. "Here."
Ren paused, then took it and lifted the cloth cover.
A rich sweetness wafted up immediately.
Inside were a dozen freshly made donuts, neatly stacked and dusted with powdered sugar—still warm.
"This is…" Ren raised a brow, puzzled.
"Old man bought them!" Laufen declared loudly, emphasizing every word. "He said you'll get hungry on the road if there's nothing to eat."
Ren laughed, grabbed one, and took a huge bite.
Crisp outside, soft inside. Sweetness melting on his tongue.
"Good," he said through a mouthful. "Thanks, old man. Great taste. You like sweets too?"
Denken's shoulder twitched. He coughed. "Ahem… yes. When you're old, you sometimes want something sweet."
"All right, all right. I get it. It's Laufen's thoughtfulness."
Ren handed the basket to Stark, then looked at Laufen. "I'll take the gift. Next time we meet, I'll treat you to grilled meat."
"I like sweets more," Laufen said, turning her head away—though the corner of her mouth still lifted despite herself.
"We should go," Frieren said, glancing at the sky. "If we leave any later, we won't reach the next village."
"Take care," Denken said with a slight nod.
"Bye, Laufen—and bye, old man Denken," Ren called over his shoulder, waving as he strode after the others.
As their backs vanished at the end of the road, Laufen finally looked away, lightly kicking a pebble by the roadside—quietly downcast.
---
After some time...
Ren's group arrived at a village called Fabel.
It was larger than the village where Ren had first awakened. The houses were more orderly, and the place looked comfortably well-off.
The moment they entered, an elderly man with glasses and a small goatee greeted them warmly.
"Adventurers! Here to stay the night?"
"Yes," Fern stepped forward politely. "And we'd like to restock supplies."
The old man's gaze swept over the four of them. When he noticed Frieren, he perked up. "Actually, I have a request. Interested?"
"A request?" Frieren's ears twitched.
Seeing her attention, the old man grew animated. "There's a hero's statue in the village. It's been out in the wind and sun for years, covered in dust. We'd like a mage to clean it up and make the hero shine again."
"And the payment?" Frieren asked bluntly.
"The payment…" The old man produced a small scroll from his coat. "A spell that scratches the itch on your back."
Frieren's eyes lit up. She immediately shook his hand. "Deal!"
Then she turned and marched off toward the statue.
"Frieren-sama…" Fern followed helplessly.
Ren and Stark exchanged a look and could only trail after them.
On the way to the plaza, Fern couldn't help saying, "There really are statues of Himmel-sama everywhere."
Stark added, "These weird little requests are kind of fun."
Ren only smiled.
Because the statue in Fabel… wasn't of Himmel.
Soon, the four reached the corner of the village where the request pointed.
A tall bronze statue stood there, its surface coated in green patina and dust.
"Huh?" Fern made a small sound. "This statue… doesn't look like Himmel-sama."
The bronze figure was an elegant middle-aged man in an old-fashioned cloak, a sword hanging at each hip, wearing a gentle, refined smile.
"This is the one known as the strongest hero—the Hero of the South…" Frieren began explaining.
But Ren was already walking toward the statue.
This was the second Hero of the South statue he'd encountered.
He reached out, under Fern and Stark's confused stares—and lightly touched the statue's cold base.
Buzz—
A familiar warm current surged through his body.
A blue, translucent screen unfolded before his eyes.
[Detected "Hero of the South" statue. Authority resonance… synchronizing…]
[Synchronization complete.]
[Dual-wielding has been enhanced!]
[Future Sight has been enhanced!]
[Congratulations, Talent acquired: Resilient Body.]
[Remaining statue map unlocked!]
[Current synchronization rate: 10%]
Power flowed into every limb.
Ren clenched his fist, feeling the heavy solidity granted by Resilient Body.
Muscle density. Bone strength. Both had risen so clearly he could sense it.
Now, even if he took a Red Mirror Dragon's charge head-on, he wouldn't be injured.
Still, the improvement wasn't as dramatic as before. The first five percent had been the foundation; this felt like adding half a wall on top of it.
"Mr. Ren? What are you spacing out about?" Fern's voice came from beside him.
"Nothing," Ren replied casually, collecting himself. "Just… the air feels nice."
After Frieren cleaned the statue, she got exactly what she wanted—"the back-scratch spell." Now she walked along studying it, completely absorbed in her own world.
Fern hovered beside her like an overprotective parent, guarding her from tripping over nothing.
Over the next few days, the four dealt with the Sword Demon in Count Tähre's territory, passed by Mt. Eltovis, and soaked their feet in an open-air hot spring on the summit.
...
Half a month later.
A chain of mountains appeared at the horizon, and the air grew colder and drier.
They finally reached their destination—the gate to the Northern Plateau.
A massive wall stretched before them like a natural chasm.
Below it stood a heavily fortified fortress city called Edel.
At the gate, a squad of fully armed soldiers was strictly inspecting everyone trying to enter.
"Stop! Who are you?" a captain-looking soldier barked, blocking their way.
"We're adventurers," Fern answered. "We're heading to the Northern Plateau."
The captain looked them up and down, his gaze lingering on Frieren before he said stiffly, "The Northern Plateau is overrun with monsters. The environment is harsh. Not just anyone can go in."
"By Imperial decree, only those with First-Class Mage certification, or those guaranteed by a First-Class Mage, may pass."
Fern immediately pulled out a parchment certificate and handed it over.
"First-Class Mage, Fern."
The captain took it, staring like he couldn't believe it. He flipped it back and forth several times.
"It's real… First-Class Mage certification!"
The soldiers behind him erupted in shock.
Their eyes snapped to Fern with instant reverence.
Who would've thought this girl—who looked only sixteen or seventeen, was one of the continent's top-tier mages?
The captain returned the certificate with both hands and bowed deeply.
"Fern-sama! Please, pass through with your companions!"
He shouted an order, and his men quickly opened a path.
The party crossed the checkpoint smoothly.
They passed through the long gate corridor, and a frigid wind laced with snow hit them full in the face.
The view opened wide.
Vast land. Sparse conifer forests. Distant snow mountains reflecting blinding sunlight.
This… was the Northern Plateau.
Ren inhaled the icy air—and immediately felt his stomach twist unpleasantly.
Then, from a nearby patch of snow, sudden movement resounded.
Several leopard-like monsters burst from the trees, their crimson eyes full of savage violence.
"Monsters! Iceclaw Panthers!" Stark snapped into a fighting stance.
Fern lifted her staff.
But before either of them could act—
Ren moved.
Two swords sprang from his waist in a blur.
The next moment, his body became a phantom, diving straight into the pack.
Stark only saw an afterimage weaving between the beasts, accompanied by the shriek of blades ripping through air.
Thup. Thup. Thup.
Three Iceclaw Panthers froze in place almost simultaneously—then collapsed, their bodies carved with sword marks.
Stark stood there, stunned.
He knew Ren was strong, but not this strong.
Three monsters known for speed and defense… killed in seconds?
Fern's pupils tightened slightly as she gripped her staff.
With strength like that… he could easily cut down a mage like her.
Even Frieren's usually still, ancient eyes finally rippled with faint meaning as she murmured softly:
"He's stronger than last time."
Ren sheathed his swords, turned back, and gave the three of them a smile.
"Thanks for looking out for me these past weeks. I think we part ways here."
After unlocking the statue map, he knew that aside from the road toward Aureole, Frieren's route would rarely intersect with more Hero of the South statues.
From here on, he needed to explore alone—raise his strength to the point where he could face even great demons, or a swarm of them, and eventually reach Aureole to find a way back to his original world.
"Re—" Stark tried to speak, but Frieren raised a hand to stop him and smiled.
"Then… goodbye."
As Ren walked farther away, Fern looked at Frieren.
"Frieren-sama… why didn't we try to make Ren stay? With a swordsman that strong, our journey would be safer."
Frieren smiled gently.
"As long as we keep traveling, there will always be chances to meet again."
Then she added, simply:
"Tearful goodbyes aren't our style."