Inside a wooden cabin in a small village, three figures sat facing one another in silence.
The two of them had been staring at each other for what felt like forever, not a single word passing between them — and Stark had finally reached his limit.
"What are you two even doing... You've been like this since a while ago, all secretive and strange."
"?! Stark, you didn't hear it?"
Fern immediately looked up in surprise. Up until now, Stark had been watching the two of them so carefully, reading the room so perfectly — cooperating with their silence so naturally — that Fern had simply assumed he must have heard the voice too.
"Hear it? Hear what?"
Stark was completely lost.
"...Ms. Frieren, that voice just now — it was definitely her, wasn't it..."
Seeing that Stark genuinely had no idea what they were talking about, Fern turned to look at Frieren instead.
"Yes. No question about it... The fact that Stark couldn't hear it is actually good news, in its own way. It means that woman's words can only reach people whose bodies carry mana — in other words, monks and mages."
Frieren's expression was grave, but she still delivered her analysis quickly and without hesitation.
The three of them had long since lost any appetite for travel. They had already left the Imperial Capital, but they'd been drifting around the small towns and villages nearby, unable to move on.
The weight of what had happened was simply too great.
"Fíliya has already declared herself Demon King... Are we still going to keep traveling?"
Fern asked, her voice uncertain.
After all, the whole reason she and Frieren had set out in the first place was to journey to the Demon King's Castle — to reach Aureole, that place of rest for departed souls, and see once more the people they had lost. And now the Demon King's Castle had been reclaimed by a new Demon King. Whether they could — or should — still press forward in that direction was a question that knotted itself tightly in Fern's chest.
"Even if we wanted to go now, there's no way through. The moment Fíliya's proclamation went out, the Continental Magic Association will have immediately begun organizing countermeasures. Their first move will be to cut off every route leading to the far north... Though we also can't rule out the possibility that mages within the Association itself might be swayed by Fíliya's offer and choose to defect to the Demon Race."
"And it won't stop at mages. Fíliya's words may only be able to reach people who carry mana — for now — but the nobles and ruling classes of every nation will easily learn of it through the mages at their sides. So... what we can expect is this: the human world is about to be thrown into violent upheaval. There will be plenty of people willing to give up everything they have, just for the chance to become a demon."
" "
Frieren's words made Fern's mood sink even lower.
Stark, meanwhile, still looked thoroughly baffled.
"Is that really how it is... Most humans alive today despise the Demon Race from the bottom of their hearts, don't they? If it were me, I'd never want to become a demon."
Stark said it plainly and with absolute conviction. He had pieced together a rough picture of the situation from what Frieren and Fern had been saying — the boy only looked simple. Anyone who was truly dim-witted couldn't possibly have become a disciple of the legendary warrior Eisen.
"You're not wrong... but you're underestimating just how powerful the lure of a longer life is for humans."
Frieren fixed Stark with a long, quiet look, then let out a slow sigh. If only all humans were as straightforward and full of conviction as he was — things would be so much simpler.
As one of the long-lived races, Frieren understood better than almost anyone in this world what the promise of a longer life truly meant to the short-lived — and just how irresistible that temptation could be.
"For a thousand years, humans have never once stopped researching methods of life extension — spells, techniques, anything they could find... Some of the more extreme factions even resorted to capturing Elves and members of the Demon Race, hoping to wrest the secret of longevity from those who could not die."
Frieren spoke slowly, drawing out a piece of history that had long been sealed away.
"?! Something like that actually happened..."
Stark was visibly taken aback.
"And then what happened?"
Fern's curiosity had been stirred, and she pressed Frieren to continue.
"That organization was destroyed by a joint force of humans and Elves. The surviving Elves were rescued. The demons were killed in passing, without a second thought. On the surface, it looked like a perfect resolution — but I think you can both understand: the organization could be wiped out, but the human desire for immortality is something that can never truly be extinguished."
Frieren's words left Fern and Stark in a brief, heavy silence. It was a long moment before Fern finally spoke again, her voice carrying a note of quiet defeat.
"Fíliya... why would she do something like this."
Fern was despondent. She had no desire to get swept up in something of this magnitude — she wanted nothing more than to travel quietly alongside Frieren and Stark, to the end of the road they had set out on together.
And beyond that — she didn't want to become Fíliya's enemy.
She had, countless times, run through imaginary battles in her mind with Fíliya standing across from her as a hypothetical opponent — but those were always sparring exercises at heart, a desire to test herself against someone worthy. It was never about standing on opposing sides of a battlefield and fighting to kill.
"Who knows... That woman's thought process is beyond anyone's ability to follow."
Frieren's voice took on an edge of something close to irritation.
The atmosphere had grown stiff and uncomfortable. Even Stark seemed a little deflated. In his memory, Fíliya had always been a little odd, a little eccentric in her behavior — but on the whole, she had been a good person. And someone Fern had considered a true friend.
How had things... suddenly come to this?
The three of them sat with their tangled, bitter feelings, and none of them could find any words left to say.
It was at that moment that all three of them felt something intrude upon the room. The two mages sensed it immediately — a faint, faint ripple of mana. Stark caught it through something else entirely: a warrior's instinct, sharp and wordless, that told him something was wrong.
Fern raised her staff in an instant — but Frieren shook her head at her, a small gesture that said: not an enemy.
And then, from the shadows pooled in the corner of the room, a figure slowly emerged.
"Mr. Falsch?!"
Fern startled. It was the first time she had ever seen magic quite like it — someone simply stepping out of a shadow as though it were a door.
"Ms. Frieren. And First-Class Mage Fern. I've come to relay a message from Lady Serie. Lady Serie asks that you suspend your travels and return to the Association to lend your strength — you both heard Fíliya's voice, I take it?"
Falsch pushed his glasses up with his usual unhurried habit, his expression utterly composed and unreadable.
"Oh? Now that's interesting... Serie is actually asking for my help? Does that mean she's already met with Fíliya?"
Frieren caught it immediately.
"Yes. Lady Serie has already engaged Fíliya in combat... but for reasons she did not fully elaborate on, Lady Serie has determined that she cannot stop Fíliya as things currently stand."
For two as critical to their fighting strength as Frieren and Fern, Falsch saw no reason to conceal anything — and besides, Lady Serie had given him no specific instructions about what to withhold.
"Oh?"
Frieren's brow rose at that. So even Serie herself had things she couldn't accomplish.
"Yes... According to Lady Serie, the Fíliya of today possesses some form of Immortality. Because of that, Lady Serie has concluded that fighting her would be entirely without meaning. To deal with the Fíliya of today, they will first need to find some countermeasure specifically targeting Immortality."
"I see... So that's how it is."
Frieren nodded slowly at that, then turned to Fern.
"Fern — what do you want to do?"
"I'm going."
Fern answered without a moment's hesitation. Whatever else was true — if there was any chance of stopping Fíliya, the only way to start was by standing in front of her.
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