The air was still, silence falling like a heavy curtain.
Fas's voice was hoarse, as if he were a drowning man clinging desperately to his last hope.
All eyes turned to Frieren—Fas's pleading gaze, Stark's curiosity, and Fern's tentative concern were fixed upon her.
But Frieren's eyes were cold as she turned to Fas.
"I refuse," she said bluntly.
Her unfeeling demeanor was almost cruel, a side of her so distant and unyielding that even Fern and Stark found it hard to bear.
"...Frieren, couldn't we just help him a little?" Fern suggested tentatively.
"Yeah," Stark added, glancing at the dwarf's crestfallen face. "This poor old guy's waited long enough. Let's cut him some slack."
Frieren frowned, her brow knitting in visible annoyance. "You two are acting strange today. Weren't you always the ones telling me not to waste too much time in one place? Do you have any idea how long it'll take me to break that seal? Even I would need three months."
Stark waved her off. "Three months isn't that bad."
Fern nodded in agreement. "That's way shorter than those ten- or twenty-year detours you used to take. Compared to that, it's not a big deal."
Frieren: "..."
"It won't even take three months."
The voice that interrupted was Aesc's, as she stepped forward with a confident smile.
"If Frieren and I work together, we can probably crack it in less than a month," Aesc declared.
Frieren puffed her cheeks indignantly, like a pufferfish, before muttering in defeat.
"Fine, do whatever you want. But don't come crying to me if opening that seal brings disaster."
Aesc turned back to Fas, still smiling reassuringly. "What do you say? Can you wait a little longer?"
"Yes! Of course, I can!" Fas nodded vigorously, his voice brimming with determination. "I've already waited two hundred years—a month is nothing!"
The following month saw Aesc and her companions staying in the town, dedicating their efforts to unraveling the intricate seal on the stone door.
---
One morning, it wasn't Fern who woke Frieren up, but Aesc.
Back when they'd traveled with Himmel's party, Aesc had always been the one to handle Frieren's morning routine. After all, aside from Frieren and Aesc, everyone else in the group had been male, and Himmel, in particular, was prone to overreacting to even the slightest glimpse of Frieren's disheveled morning state.
"Frieren, it's time to get up," Aesc called softly, nudging her.
"Mm… Just let me sleep a little longer…" Frieren mumbled, wrapping herself tighter in her blanket.
"...If I let you sleep for your version of 'a little longer,' Stark and Fern will probably have three kids each by the time you're done."
Frieren's reluctance to get out of bed seemed to have worsened over the years. Wrapped up like a cocooned caterpillar, she was utterly immovable.
Aesc couldn't help but wonder: Is it the cold climate of the Northern Plateau?
Regardless of the reason, Aesc wasn't about to let Frieren sink into lazy complacency.
With practiced ease, Aesc took care of everything—washing her face, brushing her teeth, changing her clothes, blow-drying and tying her hair, and even putting on her shoes—all while Frieren remained half-asleep.
The whole process reminded Aesc of playing a life-simulation game, where she was dressing up a doll.
As Aesc brushed her hair, she suddenly asked, "Frieren, is something on your mind?"
Her question came from observation—Frieren's reluctance to break the seal had been clear from the start.
Why was that? Fas had pleaded so earnestly, and his two-century obsession was so close to fulfillment.
Aesc knew Frieren wasn't cold-hearted. Frieren was kind—kinder than most would realize. That kindness was why Himmel had loved her.
Frieren's half-lidded eyes cracked open slightly at the unexpected question, her gaze filled with a complexity that was difficult to decipher.
Gone was her groggy demeanor, replaced by an alertness that belied her usual calm.
"Emperor's Wine isn't worth it," she said quietly. "It's not something anyone should dedicate their life to chasing."
"That sounds like a story I haven't heard before," Aesc replied, smiling faintly. "Would you mind sharing it with me?"
"Still the same, always collecting stories," Frieren murmured. Her tone was flat, but there was a faint flicker of something in her eyes. "It's not a secret or anything. Honestly, it's a boring story."
Even so, Frieren didn't start immediately. Instead, she posed a seemingly unrelated question.
"Aesc, why do you think I began traveling to collect magic?"
"Because people would smile when they saw your magic, and they'd praise your skill. Isn't that what you said before?"
"I did say that… but that's only part of it," Frieren admitted. "I found that reason after I met Himmel and the others."
Her gaze shifted, eyes lowering as she seemed to recall something from long ago.
"Most elves set a goal for themselves—something to dedicate their lives to. They immerse themselves in it completely."
"Why?" Aesc asked softly.
"Because without something to focus on… life becomes unbearably long."
It was a sentiment born of centuries.
A thousand years ago, on a cliff covered in blooming flowers, Frieren had asked her master, Flamme, a question.
"Why do you love researching and creating new spells so much?"
Flamme had smiled, her answer carrying a hint of melancholy.
"For many reasons," she'd said. "Because I enjoy it. Because I want to help humanity fight the demons. Because I want to make my master proud.
"But there's another reason."
Flamme had looked out at the horizon, her voice soft yet firm.
"I want to leave behind so much magic that you'll spend your entire life studying it. That way, you won't be bored when you're left alone in this world."
The memory passed in an instant, and Frieren returned to her story.
"Emperor's Wine wasn't some legendary elixir. It was a cheap, poorly made drink that the empire handed out during the emperor's coronation."
"Millialde spent so much time and effort searching for it, only to discover it was worthless trash," Frieren continued, her voice tinged with a rare sadness. "After losing her purpose, she would spend her days staring into space. One day, just to pass the time, she carved that inscription on a stone."
That very inscription was the one Fas had discovered.
Aesc now understood Frieren's reluctance. Frieren didn't want Fas to experience the same despair as Millialde.
Even so…
"Walking away wouldn't have changed anything," Aesc said firmly. "If Fas has the money, he could hire other mages to open the seal. It might take longer without us, but he's waited two centuries—he can wait a little more."
Frieren sighed softly, her shoulders relaxing.
"I know," she admitted. "That's why I eventually agreed."
---
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