"Is this... my home?"
Taking in the familiar surroundings, Sense quickly sorted through her whirling thoughts.
Had she truly arrived in the past? It seemed so — after all, none of those strange little trinkets Fíliya had given her were anywhere to be seen.
If she really had reached the exact point in time she'd been aiming for...
Sense slowly sat up from the bed, retrieved a set of casual clothes from the wardrobe she remembered, and made her way to the bathroom.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror — and the word slipped out before she could stop it.
"So small."
She had already noticed it while changing: her hands, her body — nothing was the way it should have been.
"So I've taken over my old self's body... I didn't expect it to work like this. Is it because two versions of 'me' can't exist at the same time?"
Sense immediately set about processing the situation with the analytical mind of a mage.
"And how will the time I spend here be counted? When I go back... how long will Lady Serie and the others have been waiting?"
A torrent of anxieties flooded her head all at once, and in the end they dissolved into a single helpless sigh.
"Forget it. There's no point overthinking it... For now, I should go find Fíliya."
The moment she thought of that girl, her heart began to race. It had been so long since she had last seen Fíliya.
They had been apart for nearly two years before, but this time was different — Fíliya had become something else entirely, a being of a different race. And so Sense had been haunted, without rest, by the thought that she might never see her again.
Sense quickly got ready to head out — but just then, a knock came at her door.
Her heart lurched. She forced herself to stay calm, then slowly opened the door.
And standing before her was the very person she had been longing for, day and night.
Though right now, Fíliya was an absolute little gremlin — she looked no older than seven or eight.
Sense was struck speechless.
She had prepared so many things to say — and yet, faced with this tiny Fíliya, she could do nothing but stand there, frozen.
"Hm? Oh, Sense, you're already up."
Fíliya, completely oblivious to the subtle shift in Sense's expression, broke into a bright smile.
"What do you mean, 'already up'?"
Sense was still a little dazed.
"You've been unconscious for two days. I heard you got into another fight with the Empire's Mage Intelligence Corps? Tch. Who was it that hurt you? Tell me — when I get the chance, I'll drag every last one of them out and kill them."
Ah... so it was this moment.
It all clicked into place. This was the point in time right after she had fought her way out from a whole squad of Mage Intelligence Corps operatives.
As for why she had slept so long — it wasn't from any serious injury. She had simply pushed her mana well past its limits.
Not that it mattered. The other side had come off far worse.
Looking at Fíliya's indignant, righteous little face, Sense couldn't help herself — she reached out and ruffled the top of her small head.
"Relax. Do I look like someone who takes losses? You don't need to avenge me... By the way, what's that?"
As she spoke, her gaze drifted naturally to the square wooden box Fíliya was holding in both arms.
"This? You'll find out soon enough — aren't you going to let me in first?"
Fíliya grinned.
This little brat...
Sense looked at Fíliya's face, and at last, a smile crept onto her own without her realizing it.
Fíliya had always been like a miniature adult, even as a child — never once going through the hazy, uncertain phase that most children passed through. Perhaps that was exactly why she had been able to reach such extraordinary heights.
Sense thought as much, then brought Fíliya inside.
Fíliya set the wooden box on the table and, without any preamble, lifted the lid.
Inside was a bowl of... thick, steaming congee. Floating on its surface were leaves of vegetables and thin shreds of tender meat.
"Did you make this?"
At the sight of the congee, Sense's first reaction was something closer to bewilderment than hunger.
She knew Fíliya's cooking ability. All too well.
"O-of course I made it."
Fíliya's wavering tone gave her away immediately — but she puffed out her flat little chest and put on an air of supreme self-evidence.
"Really?"
Sense looked her dead in the eye with a teasing smile, the kind that said she already knew everything.
Under that gaze, Fíliya caved almost immediately.
"Alright, fine... I bought it. You know how it is, Sense — no matter what I try to cook, no matter how carefully I follow every step, what ends up in the pot is always pitch-black, burnt sludge stuck to the bottom. It's genuinely baffling. I follow what people tell me to do, and yet..."
Fíliya made a deeply troubled face. In response, Sense simply reached out again and patted her on the head.
"You don't have to force yourself to do something you're bad at. Even if you bought it, the thought behind it counts just as much."
"...Mm. Okay."
Reassured, Fíliya quickly recovered her mood. She plopped herself down in the chair beside the table, propped her chin in both hands, and watched Sense with bright, curious eyes.
"How come you're not eating? You should be starving right now, shouldn't you?"
Right — I just woke up after two days unconscious. I really should be acting weaker...
Sense caught herself. But the problem was, she was feeling so many things at once that she had no appetite at all — and Fíliya had brought a very generous portion on top of that.
Still, she had no choice but to eat.
Sense sighed inwardly, then reached out and lifted the bowl of congee.
"Hmm... something's off. Sense, are you not hungry? But why wouldn't you be hungry?"
Fíliya narrowed her eyes, watching Sense eat with almost absurd delicacy, and immediately grew suspicious.
"N-no, I'm hungry, I just... didn't want to show it in front of you."
Now it was Sense's turn to falter.
"Oh? So you didn't want me to see you shoveling food down? You care that much about your image in front of me?"
Fíliya seemed quite pleased with that answer, and a smile spread naturally across her face.
Sense found herself at a loss.
Fíliya had always looked at her with that strange little expression, even back then. At the time, Sense had thought it merely a little odd and left it at that — but now, experiencing it all again through the eyes of someone who knew how everything turned out, she noticed something that was... rather hard to put into words.
This child. Had Fíliya had her eye on her since she was this young?
Sense had never once imagined that she and Fíliya would end up in the kind of relationship they had — something like sisters, something like mother and daughter, and something more like lovers still. A bond that defied every proper category.
But even now, given the chance to go back and choose again, Sense knew without hesitation that she had no regrets. Not a single one. She even cherished it — everything that she and Fíliya were to each other.
"Hey, Sense — just how many years older than me are you, anyway? Every time I ask, you never tell me."
Fíliya spoke up out of nowhere.
Sense blinked, caught off guard — then quickly composed herself and answered.
"If you already know I never tell you, why do you keep asking?"
Yes. Sense had decided to turn the question right back around.
"Mmm... well, it matters a lot how much older the person you like actually is, you know? Is it five years? Ten? Even more? Each one means a different kind of pressure."
Fíliya cupped her cheeks in both hands, her face wearing an expression of longing that was entirely at odds with her age.
Sense blinked again — frozen.
Was Fíliya always this... direct, even as a child?
What on earth was I thinking back then... or did I just assume she was always joking?
And so, in an atmosphere that could only be described as delicate, Sense forced herself through the rest of the porridge until the bowl was clean.
The moment she saw it was finished, Fíliya immediately brightened and gathered up the utensils and the wooden box together with cheerful efficiency.
"Then I won't bother you any longer. I've got things to do — actually, I just got a new idea."
Fíliya said it lightly, already heading toward the front door, and she had just placed her hand on the handle — already about to open it — when Sense moved first.
Strands of hair shot forward and wound themselves around Fíliya's body, stopping her in place.
"Hm?"
Feeling the gentle pull of the strands, Fíliya turned around at once, looking toward Sense with curious eyes.
"Today... could you stay?"
The moment the words left her mouth, Sense's face flushed a deep red — as though she were the little sister desperate for her older sister not to leave.
"Mmm... Sense, you really are strange. Normally it's me who clings to you, and sometimes you even find me annoying. Waking up from one sleep and having your whole personality change like this... No, this is bad. I need to contact the Magic Association right away — there might be residual interference from Mind Control Magic on you!"
Fíliya said it with a completely straight face, then made to turn and bolt out the door.
She was promptly grabbed by Sense's hair and pulled right back.
"I'm fine... It's just — it's been so long since I've seen you."
Sense murmured, biting lightly at her lip.
"But you only slept for two days."
"I know... but... it felt like a very long time in the dream."
Sense continued, defending herself quietly.
"Is that so... Alright, fine. I'll push things back a bit. I'm a kid — the one thing I'm definitely not short on is time. The Association recommended I enroll at the Empire's magic academy, but then said I was a little too young and to come back in a few years... honestly, so boring."
Fíliya grumbled, but she stopped resisting — and instead settled herself quite contentedly into Sense's lap, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"So — I'll keep you company for a few more days? You just finished a really important mission for the Association. They probably won't be assigning you anything new for a while, right?"
"Mm."
Sense gave a small nod.
"Then... will we bathe together?"
Fíliya dipped her head as she said it — but from Sense's angle, the girl was clearly blushing.
"Mm."
"And sleep together? The kind where we hold each other?"
Fíliya lifted her head at once, eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Mm..."
Sense nodded again.
And so, evening came quickly — and just as they had agreed, the two of them bathed together, then lay down side by side in bed.
"She really is just a child... the moment her head touched the pillow, she was out."
Sense rolled onto her side, watching the little figure whose eyes had already fallen shut — and found herself quietly charmed.
In that moment, she wanted nothing more than for time to stop here, forever.
As for her original mission — she even felt a sudden, reckless impulse: forget it. Just stay like this... and live this life all over again, together with Fíliya.
But the sense of responsibility stirring in her chest kept Sense tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
The mission... humanity's future...
The weight of it all pressed down on her, suffocating.
How cruel. To let me find a happiness this simple — and then remind me, at every turn, that I am the one who must shatter it with my own hands.
Sense clenched her fist, feeling a heaviness in her chest that she couldn't shake.
At last, almost without thinking, she reached for that magic.
The privilege she had once sought from Serie, the God of Magic.
At this point in time, she was still only a Second-Class Mage — she would not have known this magic yet. But its principles and its method were carved into her memory.
After several attempts, she finally managed to cast it — the magic that let her set aside everything, and simply fall asleep.
— In the days that followed, Sense allowed herself to simply enjoy the quiet. She did not force herself to put the mission first, and at the same time resumed her ordinary work at the Magic Association.
Not yet a First-Class Mage, she naturally had no standing to seek an audience with Serie — but whenever she thought of the fact that Serie was somewhere deep within the Association's halls, her feelings grew unbearably tangled.
A thought had occurred to her.
Should she... tell the Serie of this era that she had come from the future? Seek the help of this timeline's Serie?
But after wavering back and forth, Sense found she still could not bring herself to say it.
Because she was afraid — terrified that if she told this timeline's Serie that Fíliya would one day bring catastrophe upon the entire human world... Serie might act against Fíliya immediately, to eliminate the threat before it could take root.
That was the last thing Sense wanted to see.
And so, reluctantly, she had no choice but to push the mission back to the forefront of her mind.
One day, Sense visited Fíliya's home just as she usually did. She had a key to the place, so there was no need to knock.
Fíliya was sitting by the window with a book in her lap. Hearing that it was Sense, she only glanced up to offer her a smile — then went right back to reading.
This was simply how Fíliya's days went. Beyond her magical research, she had other interests too.
Right now, for instance, she was reading something along the lines of epic biographies — tales of heroes and history.
"Sense... what kind of creatures are Demons, really? The books all say they're monsters, but there are enormous differences between different types of monsters... Hmm. I really do want to catch one and study it properly."
Fíliya said it offhandedly.
Those words made Sense's heart leap straight into her throat.
This is exactly what my mission is about... I need to make Fíliya lose interest in the Demon Race.
Easy enough to say — but how, exactly, am I supposed to do that?
"Demons are nothing but monsters who happen to be able to speak. They're not fundamentally different from any other monster that threatens human lives. Boring, really... Why aren't you doing magic research today?"
Sense redirected the topic stiffly — but that only made Fíliya more intrigued.
"Hm? Sense, have you actually met Demons? Why else would you say they're boring — come on, tell me about them."
Looking into those wide eyes brimming with curiosity, Sense found herself at a complete loss for what to do.
"No, I..."
Sense's instinct was to dodge the subject — but she caught herself almost immediately. Was that really appropriate? With how perceptive this child was, Fíliya would see through her in an instant.
And besides, she had never been a good liar. Rather than awkwardly trying to redirect or suppress Fíliya's curiosity, perhaps it was better to simply... not bring up the Demon Race at all. Avoid the topic entirely. Don't engage.
But if she kept dodging, wouldn't that only make Fíliya more curious?
It was only now that Sense truly grasped just how daunting a task she had accepted. What had she been thinking, charging into this moment on nothing but sheer determination? How could she possibly pull this off?
Her nerves were wound to a breaking point. She was certain that the moment she looked at Fíliya again, her face would betray every ounce of her anxiety.
"It seems like Sense doesn't want to talk about this... that's fine."
The clear, bright voice of a child pulled Sense back to herself.
She looked at Fíliya in disbelief — and found the girl wearing a full, easy smile.
"If talking about the Demon Race makes you unhappy, Sense, then I won't bring it up anymore. Can we talk about something else?"
Fíliya tilted her head slightly and asked, her voice careful and considerate.
"Mm..."
Sense let out a slow breath and nodded, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her chest — and then, immediately after, felt a sharp pang of self-reproach.
Here she was, a person who had crossed through time itself, and somehow the tables had been turned completely. She was the one being comforted — by Fíliya, at this age.
"Anyway, I've been reading this today." Fíliya held up the book in her hands. "It's about the Hero's party from a few decades ago — their campaign to defeat the Demon King. But honestly, the writing is so over the top. Like, supposedly the Hero slew a giant serpent hundreds of meters long with a single sword stroke — but I looked into it, and snake-type monsters simply can't grow to that size. It's completely made up."
"And then there's this part about the Hero's party fighting their way out of a siege by tens of thousands of Demon Race soldiers — that's just nonsense. The Demon Race population on the continent has been in decline for ages. They're practically on the verge of extinction now. Even a few decades ago, you couldn't have gathered tens of thousands of them. Maybe a few hundred years back, sure — but not then."
Fíliya delivered her critique with undisguised disdain, then suddenly clapped a hand over her own mouth.
"Sorry — I literally just said I wouldn't talk about the Demon Race and then went and did it anyway. My bad."
She glanced at Sense with a flicker of genuine apology in her eyes.
"Fíliya... are you interested in stories about the Hero?"
Sense's gaze settled on her.
"I suppose I am, quite a bit. You see Hero statues everywhere, so I always find myself wondering — what kind of person was he? What sort of life did he live, what did he go through, that moved people so deeply they built monuments in his name?"
"Is that so."
"Mm. And it's more than that, actually. Every time I read one of these different versions of 'The Hero Defeats the Demon King,' I always feel... a kind of regret."
As she said it, a quiet shadow passed over Fíliya's expression.
"Regret?"
Sense blinked. This was a topic Fíliya had never raised with her before. Have I not been paying enough attention to her?
"Of course I regret it. There were such incredible people, such sweeping and legendary stories — and all of it happened before I was born. Doesn't that seem like a waste? If I'd been born a little earlier, maybe I could have been part of it. Maybe I could have become part of the legend."
Fíliya laughed softly as she said it.
"Is Fíliya unhappy with the world as it is now? There's no Demon King anymore, but... there's still plenty of room for mages to make their mark."
"That's true, I know... but I can't help feeling like I missed something." Fíliya paused, then smiled wryly. "Though honestly, even if I had been part of some grand legend, I doubt I'd have ended up as one of the heroes. People call me 'strange' all the time... so maybe the villain role would suit me better."
Her tone was light, and her smile never wavered — but Sense found it impossible to stay unmoved after hearing those words.
Without thinking, she reached out and placed her hand gently on top of Fíliya's head.
"Don't say things like that about yourself. And don't let yourself get used to thinking that way. Fíliya — you can absolutely become a good person."
"You really believe that, Sense?"
"I do."
"...Okay then."
With that simple, definitive answer, Fíliya seemed satisfied — and promptly burrowed herself further into Sense's arms, as if savoring the warmth.
They stayed like that for a little while. Then, out of nowhere, Fíliya spoke up.
"Hey, Sense — want to come out and play with me? You're only a Second-Class Mage, so there can't be any missions that absolutely require you. Ask for some time off."
Play?
Sense blinked again. It wasn't that she was unwilling — she was simply puzzled. Fíliya, the self-proclaimed 'strange child' who never wanted to leave home and spent all her time buried in research, was suddenly in the mood to go outside?
But refuse? No. That was never an option.
"Alright. I'll go put in the request right now. Where does Fíliya want to go?"
"Hmm... how about the Southern Nations?"
Sense frowned slightly, and quickly ran through what she knew about the state of the Southern Nations at this point in time.
Actually, she didn't even need to think too hard about it. The countries in the south of the continent were too many and too fragmented — and small wars had been grinding on there for years.
"The Southern Nations... but there's fighting everywhere down there. It's hardly the kind of place you can unwind."
"But if we go north, we'll run into the Demon Race — and you don't want that, right, Sense? So south is the only option."
Fíliya offered her reasoning with breezy logic.
I see...
Sense mulled it over, and in the end — agreed. They would travel together for a while.
The two of them moved with remarkable efficiency. By the very next day, they had packed their things and set off on the road.
And the moment they crossed into the territory of the southern continent, they inevitably stumbled straight into a battlefield.
It was nothing like the grand, sweeping scenes of war Fíliya might have imagined. What she and Sense encountered was merely a small skirmish — two groups of soldiers trading blows over a tiny village, each trying to hold or take a patch of ground from the other.
The instant Sense sensed danger, her well-honed combat instincts kicked in and she moved into a ready stance.
Fíliya, however, simply stood at her side with a look of mild boredom, reaching up to catch a strand of her own hair that the wind had swept across her face, and twirled it idly between her fingers.
"It's tricky, isn't it," Fíliya said. "If this were a Demon Race attack on humans, you wouldn't hesitate for a second, Sense. But this... this is two factions of humans — whoever they are — fighting over a little village. You can't step in. Not in a situation like this."
Sense glanced sideways at Fíliya, then quietly let her own hair down.
Fíliya was right. As a Second-Class Mage, she had no business getting involved in something like this.
"Let's go, Sense. We should leave. The conflicts in the Southern Nations are scattered and endless — even if you wanted to play the hero, you'd never be able to stop them all."
Fíliya reached out and tugged at the hem of Sense's robe.
"Mm..."
Without another word, Sense took Fíliya's hand and slipped them both quietly away, drawing no attention as they left that place behind.
And so, Sense and Fíliya spent roughly half a year wandering the length and breadth of the Southern Nations together.
It was, after all, not as though the South had many cities left untouched by war — places where a person could set foot without fear. The regions consumed by conflict were many, and Fíliya had steered them clear of all those places from the very start.
At first, Sense had assumed Fíliya had chosen the Southern Nations deliberately — that she meant to show her, firsthand, the cruelty of human warfare. But over the course of those six months, Fíliya had never once brought the subject up on her own.
It was only after Sense finally pressed her that Fíliya answered, in that languid, unhurried way of hers.
[Common children, goaded by noble lords into marching halfway across the world to kill other common children — it's tedious and tragic in equal measure. What is there worth looking at?]
[I simply wanted to be with you. To find somewhere no one knows us, and just... stay there. No concerns, no questions. No worrying about humanity's future, no tasks, no obligations — just wasting time freely, together. Is that so wrong?]
So that's how it is.
The moment those words left Fíliya's lips, an answer had already settled, quiet and certain, inside Sense's heart.
"Sense, you know... lately there's been a lot of noise in my head. It's giving me terrible headaches."
Fíliya's tone was perfectly casual — but Sense knew that whatever could make Fíliya complain aloud was almost certainly not something as simple as a headache.
"Sometimes I feel like my head is about to split open... but I've managed to hold it together, somehow. Won't you praise me a little?"
Fíliya said this, then glanced over at Sense.
Sense had no way of truly understanding what Fíliya was enduring — but she reached out without hesitation, and gently placed a hand on her.
"Mm... thank you. I feel much better. Especially these past six months living with you... it's all been so quiet, so ordinary — nothing dangerous, nothing dramatic. But that's exactly what I wanted. When I'm with you, the noise isn't so bad."
Fíliya's smile grew warmer and warmer — and the unease coiling inside Sense grew heavier and heavier.
"You're not actually the Sense from this point in time, are you?"
Fíliya sat up suddenly from within Sense's arms, and looked at her with a smile.
"..."
Sense didn't know what to say.
"Hmm... I didn't expect that emperor to awaken something like that. It really was a surprise. But I suppose I have him to thank — it's because of him that we got to enjoy these quiet days together, undisturbed."
Fíliya continued speaking, and her words sent shockwaves through Sense's heart.
"Fíliya... you knew from the very beginning..."
"Of course. My existence is inscribed into every single moment in history — so I was playing along with your performance from the start, dear elder sister."
Fíliya smiled lightly, entirely matter-of-fact.
So it really was like that, Sense thought, letting out a long sigh.
In truth, over these six months, she had noticed more than a few things that felt off. For one — Fíliya was certainly a precocious child, but not to this degree. The Fíliya who had spent this time with her simply didn't match the one she remembered from the same point in her memory.
"Fíliya... why are you doing any of this? If you love the Demon Race — even if you wanted to become one yourself — I could accept that. But why become the Demon King? Why bring this kind of chaos down on everything? You're not the type who hates humans. I know you're not."
Sense had finally asked it — the question she had buried inside herself for so long.
"Hmm? Didn't I say — this is a trial, and I am the examiner who sets the questions. Sense, have you ever seen an examiner announce the answers while the test is still in session? If you want to know why I'm doing this... you'll have to hand in your answer sheet first."
Fíliya let her smile fall away. She rose from Sense's arms, expression composed and unreadable, and walked straight to the window of the inn room they had been renting.
Outside, rain fell in a soft, pattering curtain. Fíliya watched the droplets shatter against the ground in silence, listening to the quiet, pleasant sound they made.
Sense's gaze drifted to follow her.
But watching the rain beyond the glass, Sense only felt as though her own heart had been soaked through.
She had failed. There was no question about it.
All she could do was slump into a dejected expression and say nothing.
She didn't even notice when Fíliya had drifted back to stand before her again — it was only a soft, deliberate cough that pulled her back to herself.
"Ahem... there's still that other option, isn't there?"
?
Sense blinked, momentarily lost.
"Mm... when you arrived at this point in time, you must have planned for contingencies with the others, right? If you couldn't persuade me to change my mind... why not simply kill me here, in the past?"
"Mm... seeing me like this — talking, thinking — you can't bring yourself to do it? I understand. Would it help if I sent you back to when I was still an infant? A baby is just a lump of soft flesh, after all. Close your eyes, steel your heart — and it's done, isn't it?"
Fíliya said it lightly, and even offered the suggestion as though it were perfectly reasonable.
"Why would you say something so awful..."
Sense bit her lip, anger rising against the Fíliya standing before her.
This little monster — does she have any idea that saying something like that is like driving a blade straight into my heart? When did I ever... when did I ever say I wanted to kill you?!
"Hmph. Serie must be losing her mind in her old age, agreeing to send you here. You can't do it. You can't finish it either. Did you think this was some kind of game — taking on the responsibility of 'saving the world'? You absolute fool."
Fíliya looked at Sense, who stood frozen like a statue, and a flicker of genuine irritation crossed her face. She delivered those words — and then conjured a short blade into her hand.
"Go ahead."
Fíliya stepped slowly toward Sense, and pressed the metal dagger into her palm, looking at her with an expression that said: you can do it.
But in her panic, Sense couldn't hold on to the blade — it slipped from her fingers.
Fíliya showed no irritation. She simply picked it up, patiently, and placed it back in Sense's hand. Again and again.
"Sense, I just realized... you're really a hopeless case, aren't you."
After repeating the mechanical gesture many times over, Fíliya finally shook her head and looked at Sense with undisguised disappointment.
By then, Sense was in no state to respond to anything Fíliya said. She was like a machine that had completely crashed — no matter what Fíliya did or said, there was no reaction at all.
And so, Fíliya acted.
She guided Sense's hand to close tightly around the dagger — then positioned herself, and threw herself forward, driving the blade through her own throat.
!
?
Warm crimson spread across Sense's hand, and for a moment she couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
It was only when Fíliya's body went limp and began to crumple that everything crashed down on her at once.
But the very instant she broke apart inside and nearly screamed — the blood on her hand flowed back, as though time itself had reversed, and returned into Fíliya's body.
"Hah... as expected. I really can't die."
Fíliya rolled over lazily where she lay on the ground, turning her back to Sense.
"Fíliya — are you all right?"
Sense dropped to one knee and scrambled to her side.
"You saw it, didn't you, Sense. Immortality synchronizes across every point in time as well. So killing me through time travel — it won't work. Our dream has run its course. Tell Serie: if she wants to stop me, she's welcome to come face me herself."
As she said this, Fíliya reached up swiftly and tapped Sense lightly on the forehead with one finger.
Sense felt a wave of dizziness wash over her immediately — and then darkness closed in, and she lost consciousness entirely.
Solitär watched the figure lying beside her and found herself genuinely amused.
It was rare — truly rare — to see this person wearing such a dopey, blissful grin, as though she had just lived through something utterly delightful.
"So what exactly did our all-knowing Demon King see in her sleep?" Solitär teased, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
"Mm... just a very good dream." Fíliya rolled over to face her.
"Alright... you've been spending all your time with Tot lately. How's that magic coming along?"
Solitär gave her a sideways look, well aware that this woman was absolutely hiding something — but she didn't feel like pressing the issue.
After all, Fíliya looked genuinely happy right now. If it really had been a good dream, if it made her feel even a little better — then Solitär couldn't be bothered to pry.
"Naturally, preparations are complete," Fíliya said with full confidence. "We'll use her terminal virus to give every last member of the Demon Race a purification — a baptism."
All this time, she and Tot had been running experiment after experiment — with Fíliya herself serving as the test subject, naturally.
Her goals were twofold: to refine the terminal virus so it would permanently sever the Demon Race's instinct to consume humans, and to calibrate its concentration so it wouldn't kill lower-ranking demons outright.
Simple enough to describe. Nightmarish to actually execute.
If not for having an unkillable test subject on hand, they likely would have wiped out the remaining few hundred demons entirely before ever arriving at a usable result.
"That must have been exhausting." Solitär said it with helpless resignation.
How could she not know — how many times had Fíliya been killed by the terminal virus in the course of those experiments, all in the name of remaking the Demon Race?
"At first I didn't feel a thing — the pain-suppression magic was doing its job just fine. But then I discovered that Tot's terminal virus is something else entirely. In the course of fighting against me, the virus was evolving. It seemed to realize it couldn't kill my body outright, so it changed its method of attack."
The moment the conversation turned to research, Fíliya lit up completely.
Anyone else would have long since tuned her out. But fortunately for Fíliya, the person across from her was Solitär — and Solitär happened to love exactly this side of her.
"Oh?" Solitär's eyes urged her to keep going.
"Once the terminal virus realized it couldn't destroy my body, it started eroding my mind instead... and then it dismantled my pain-suppression magic from the inside, forcing me to feel it all over again — that searing, dissolving agony. I have to say, it was genuinely fascinating."
"...And then what?" Solitär let out a long, weary sigh.
Only the person sitting in front of her, she thought, could treat something so horrifying as casual dinner conversation.
"Then of course I got the better of it — I'm the Demon King, a little obstacle like that is nothing. But the experiment did have two real difficulties. First: I adapted to the terminal virus far too quickly. I've already built up a resistance to it. These days, the dosage needed to dissolve me is vastly higher than it was at the start."
"The second problem followed directly from the first. Tot's virus production speed started falling behind my needs. In the beginning I could drop by to die a few dozen times in a single day. But eventually she needed several days just to produce enough of a dose to kill me once. You should have seen the look on her face back then — it was priceless. Every time, she'd be slumped on the bed with this expression of utter despair, and the moment she spotted me coming she'd grab a pillow and press herself into the corner of the wall, muttering things like, 'My Lord Demon King, please don't come back, I'm completely drained, there's nothing left.' It was absolutely hilarious."
Fíliya let out a laugh — a decidedly un-ladylike, vaguely unsettling kekekeke — at which point Solitär instinctively balled up her fist and knocked her one on the head.
"Stop laughing like that. It's revolting." Solitär issued the command flatly.
"Excuse me? Solitär, you have some nerve, speaking to me — the Demon King — in that tone of voice."
"So what. Got a problem with it?"
"...No." Fíliya gave an easy shrug.
Then she simply got up, threw her clothes on with brisk efficiency, grabbed Solitär's hand, and hauled her bodily out of bed.
"Come on. Time to work." Fíliya smiled lightly.
"Mm." Solitär nodded — but as her gaze settled on Fíliya's profile, something tugged at her quietly.
...It really was a good dream, wasn't it.
Has this one found a little of her old self again?
The two made their way to the terrace, where Aura and Linie were already waiting. As for Tot — she had been utterly worked to the bone these past weeks, and her role was essentially that of a mascot to begin with, so no one saw fit to drag her out for this.
"Hey, Linie — have you noticed something?" The moment Fíliya and Solitär appeared, Aura immediately turned to Linie with a pointed, needling look.
"Mm, Linie has noticed, Lady Aura."
"Tch, these two are getting up later and later — even I've been up for ages! Tch... what exactly are they getting up to at night?"
"Mm, that is indeed a question worth investigating. Linie hopes Lady Fíliya and Lady Solitär will come clean."
Watching the two of them egg each other on with such gleeful coordination, Fíliya didn't even look annoyed. She was the Demon King, after all — surely she had the magnanimity to endure a little idle gossip.
...Or not.
In one swift stride she closed the distance and grabbed Lady Aura squarely by the cheek.
"Tsss— ow— OW!! Why only me?! Linie said it too!! Alright, alright, I'll shut up, just stop squeezing!!"
Lady Aura's shriek was genuinely alarming — so much so that the entire assembled Demon Race, arrayed in formation beneath the Demon King's Castle, gave an involuntary collective shudder, half-convinced that one of the greater demons above was unleashing some form of sonic magic.
"Tch. There are that many demons watching from down below, and she can't even leave her 'strategist' a shred of dignity." Once Fíliya released her, Lady Aura did not, as she had claimed, shut up — she simply continued her complaints in a low, muttered grumble.
"Relax," Fíliya said airily. "For lower-ranking demons, no matter how undignified their superiors act, they wouldn't dare mock them — they wouldn't even allow themselves to think it."
With that, Fíliya stepped forward to the very front of the terrace.
Below, assembled at Fíliya's prior summons — delivered through Rivale via telepathic resonance — stood every member of the Demon Race.
Fíliya studied the expressions on their faces.
...Well. The ones with some measure of ability — tentatively classified as mid-ranking demons, the former demon generals and squad leaders — still wore something resembling an expression. But the lower-ranking demons stared straight up, blank and mechanical, faces utterly empty.
Having spent so long around greater demons like Solitär, Fíliya had almost forgotten: this hollow, dull vacancy was simply what lower-ranking demons looked like.
But after today — the face of the Demon Race would undergo a great advancement... or perhaps the more accurate word was mutation.
"Hm-hm-hm~~"
The current Demon King, Fíliya, stood at the edge of the Demon King's Castle terrace with her cheeks cupped in her hands, watching with obvious interest as the figures below moved about in every direction she could see.
"You're in quite a good mood — humming little tunes and everything," said Solitär, Grand Prophetess of the Demon Race, who naturally remained at the Demon King's side at all times.
"Of course. Don't you find it entertaining, Solitär?"
Fíliya smiled.
"I can't quite say I do," Solitär answered with characteristic bluntness.
What the demons below were doing was simple enough: following Fíliya's instructions, hauling raw materials — stone, timber, and the like — to designated locations. Where exactly the fun was supposed to be in watching that, Solitär couldn't fathom. And yet ever since that day, Fíliya had developed a habit of standing here to watch her subjects work.
"It's just amusing. Like watching ants move house."
Fíliya pointed down at the long, unbroken line of workers below. From this height, they did indeed look rather like a colony of ants relocating on a rainy day.
Solitär tilted her head slightly. She still didn't quite get it.
"You know, I think I'm starting to understand how Serie sees things."
Fíliya continued, and Solitär simply watched her, waiting for her to go on.
"When you elevate your perspective high enough, the question of whether to intervene in the affairs of ants really does become a genuine dilemma."
Fíliya wore a look of visible consternation.
"Look — the work these demons are doing right now? If I took over... forget a few hundred people's worth of labor, I could blast through tens of thousands of people's worth in no time flat. Cleave through mountains, quarry stone, channel rivers — I could handle all the construction myself, alone. But then the people under me would have absolutely nothing to do. And besides, I'm the Demon King — at that point wouldn't I just be doing odd jobs for my own subordinates?"
"So Serie's approach of doing absolutely nothing is starting to make a strange kind of sense... if every problem required your top fighter to step in personally, how would you ever develop talent in anyone else?"
Fíliya sighed at that.
"Haah. There's so much ahead of us. The things I have to worry about just keep piling up. The monsters in the Far North are nearly hunted out, and the climate is completely unsuitable for farming... the Demon Race may not be large in number, but they still need to eat. Before long, food is going to become a serious problem."
Solitär, seeing Fíliya's troubled expression, nodded along with something approaching genuine sympathy.
She hadn't exactly had it easy lately either. Despite holding the title of Grand Prophetess, the actual work she'd been doing was closer to that of a head cook. The only one who could help her was Amy; everyone else was dead weight. Fortunately, the lower-ranking demons could at least hunt monsters themselves — just slapping large cuts of monster meat over an open fire was enough — so their meals weren't Solitär's problem. Otherwise, cooking for hundreds of people every single day would have broken her long ago.
"There's a perfectly simple and direct solution, you know," Solitär said, as though something had just occurred to her, pitching her voice toward Fíliya in a teasing lilt.
"Oh?"
"We're the Demon Race, aren't we? The most direct approach is... raiding. When resources run short, apply pressure to the neighboring nations, demand tribute. That's exactly what humans do to each other."
Solitär offered this suggestion with a pleasant smile.
"Mm... sound strategy. I'll make one small adjustment, though."
Fíliya shook her head with a helpless look.
"The age of brute force is behind us. We're supposed to be bringing the Demon Race into a world of reason. That said — 'resource exchange' is actually a workable idea. What the Demon Race has in absolute abundance is powerful mages. Just looking at the lot down there, I can already spot plenty of promising candidates. With a little guidance from me, and given the Demon Race's natural talent, they'd grow quickly."
"Even if we handed over some minor, inconsequential magic for the human world to study and research, we could probably exchange it for a substantial amount of supplies. But magic is also our most precious asset — if I can avoid trading it away, I'd rather."
"So what grand idea does the Demon King have?" Solitär asked with a light smile.
"Two ideas, at the moment. First: reshape the environment of the Far North, and simultaneously breed crops capable of surviving in its conditions. The obvious problem is that even for me, achieving something like that would realistically take several decades — maybe a century."
Solitär couldn't help but click her tongue.
She hadn't expected Fíliya to open with something that sounded like pure fantasy. Using magic to reshape the climate of an entire region... it was, without question, yet another thing no one else could have conceived of.
Fíliya really did love doing things like this — breaking the rules the world was built on.
"And then there's the second option, which would show results much faster: simply sever the continental plate of the Far North, then pick up that landmass and relocate it somewhere more habitable."
At Fíliya's second proposal, Solitär was left thoroughly speechless.
Moving a continental plate... and that was the faster option?
"Moving a continental plate... is that actually something that can be done?"
She couldn't help but ask.
"Of course — didn't the Empire demonstrate it once?" Fíliya said with a smile. Her expression was easy and unbothered, though inwardly she had no real certainty she could pull it off herself — which made it fairly obvious she was only floating the idea as a half-joke.
"Though... the connections between continental plates are remarkably tight. Back then, the Empire only shifted its territory a short fraction of the distance, and even that triggered a whole cascade of consequences. If I actually severed the Far North's plate and moved it elsewhere... earthquakes and tsunamis and volcanic eruptions would probably be the least of it. To avoid catastrophe on that scale, let's go with the safer first option — spend a few hundred years gradually transforming the Far North into a livable environment. In any case, the one thing the Demon Race is never short on is time."
At that, Solitär narrowed her eyes and fixed them intently on Fíliya's profile.
"Hm?"
Fíliya blinked, with an expression of mild regret.
"You're not worried about whether you can actually do it... you're worried about what kind of disaster it would bring to the human world if you did. You won't even accept the proposal to raid the humans — you'd rather take the long way around and pour centuries into reshaping the environment. For a Demon King, aren't you being just a little too protective of humans?"
"Mm... I suppose you're right. Can't be helped, really. When you're raised by a Pacifist, what can you do? The influence runs deep."
Fíliya laughed at herself, then continued.
"And besides, it's not as though I love humans more than I love the Demon Race — obviously I don't. Look at those people down there: I personally stooped to preparing the bricks, the timber, the mortar — all of it — for them. I took the time to teach them how to build houses. Where they want to build, what they want to build — that's entirely up to them. None of the bizarre tangle of taxes that plagues the human world exists here. And now I'm even losing sleep over their future food supply. Honestly... how magnificent am I."
As she said it, Fíliya propped her hand against her forehead with characteristic self-admiration.
"Yes, yes, you're the greatest. At this rate, why not retire from being Demon King and go by 'Wise King' instead?"
Solitär crossed her arms, rolled her eyes at her with barely concealed exasperation.
"I'll pass on that one. I feel like I'm not quite worthy of the title. 'Demon King' still sounds better to me, when all is said and done."
Fíliya turned her head, meeting Solitär's gaze — and her smile only grew more radiant.
Inside a branch of the Imperial Magic Association.
Every gathered force sat in silence. No one spoke, and the hall fell still.
Serie watched the young human woman who had been drifting through the meeting in a daze ever since returning from her time travel, and let out a quiet sigh.
By human standards, Sense was long past the age of childhood — but in Serie's eyes, even a white-bearded elder like Lernen barely cleared the threshold of what she would call an adult.
And if she was still a child, then naturally it fell to Serie to offer some comfort. With that thought, she opened her mouth.
"Sense, you have nothing to blame yourself for. From the very beginning, the odds of reforming Fíliya were never in our favor," Serie said, fixing Sense with a look of genuine concern.
Her feelings toward Sense were, in truth, deeper than those she held for most other First-Class Mages. Sense was, after all, one of only two disciples she had taken under her wing directly in this era.
The first was Lernen. The second was Sense.
She had entertained the idea of taking Fíliya and Fern as students as well — but both of those girls, names starting with the same syllable, had declined her without any apparent coordination between them.
"Mm..."
Faced with the revered Serie, Sense only managed a single, hollow murmur in response.
It had to be said — Serie really didn't understand people. What Sense was carrying in that moment wasn't guilt over a failed mission. It was something else entirely: the very real, very raw mental damage she had sustained at the hands of that insufferable creature, in those final moments of farewell.
Seeing that Sense could still respond, Serie's brow eased. If she could still acknowledge others... then surely there was nothing too seriously wrong? Humans were like this often enough — short-lived races did love to be dramatic. Once Sense thought it through, she'd be fine.
With that assessment settled, Serie shifted her gaze elsewhere — and it came to rest on the hero, who had only just emerged from his bewildered stupor.
This was Serie's first real exchange with this hero, and she found herself inevitably curious about the young man who had both captured Frieren's regard and defeated the previous Demon King.
After all... she could sense nothing of a fighter's edge about him. No sharpness. No killing intent.
What seemed to drift around Himmel, always, was something more like a warm and gentle spring breeze.
"Himmel, both you and Flamme were revived by Fíliya. I've already spoken at length with Flamme — and since you've only just awakened, I'll ask you the same as a matter of course. What is your impression of that child, Fíliya?"
At the question from Frieren's great-teacher, Himmel straightened immediately, pinching his chin between his fingers with a look of deep thought.
"Unfathomable. The magic Fíliya used to rebuild our bodies — she told us it was called 'Fantasy Manifestation.' It seems capable of turning anything she can imagine into reality."
Himmel's words sent the room back into silence.
This was far from the first such meeting, but the deeper they pressed into the question of how to defeat the Demon King, the more doubt seemed to hollow out everyone present rather than resolve.
Could a monster like that truly be defeated by human hands?
If this discussion continued much longer, what little morale remained might be snuffed out entirely.
"Turning anything imagined into reality... what does that even mean? If it truly works as stated... isn't that a literal god? Even the legendary Goddess of Creation couldn't claim much more than that."
Genau spoke with a deep frown, his expression heavy.
"There's no need to lose heart. I believe Fíliya cannot use this ability freely — it must have some corresponding limitation."
"And besides... we have seen this type of 'conceptual' magic before — the kind deeply tied to the user's own will. It appears to carry limitless potential, but in practice it is also constrained by the user's imagination. The user's own willpower is, itself, the ceiling on what such magic can achieve."
Fern, sensing the oppressive mood — even noticing that her own teacher, Frieren, had not spoken — couldn't quite stay seated any longer. She rose and offered her perspective.
"Fern, you're talking about Übel's magic — the 'if she feels she can cut it, she can cut it' ability, right? But that and Fíliya's Fantasy Manifestation are nowhere near the same league. Still, you do have a point — Fíliya can't possibly use Fantasy Manifestation without limits, or it would violate the fundamental principles of mana. And besides, during our last exchange when we were testing each other, she had no time to bring any real technique to bear against me. If it weren't for that infuriating immortality of hers, I would have subdued her already."
"Himmel, Flamme — do you think there is any possibility of getting Fíliya under control?"
Serie's words did something to ease the atmosphere in the hall. Her claim that she had nearly subdued Fíliya was, of course, intended to give everyone a measure of confidence — and her well-meaning fib clearly had an effect.
At those words, the tension visibly eased from the faces around the room, and all eyes turned toward the hero who had once accomplished something truly extraordinary.
"Impossible. There is no method that could bring Fíliya under control."
Himmel's answer was absolute. It was a hero's instinct — toward that girl who had subdued him with ease, he simply didn't know where one would even begin. He had never felt this hopeless even when facing the previous Demon King.
"I share that view. Whatever form it takes — curse, mental magic — I struggle to imagine any of it taking hold on Fíliya. So for safety's sake, it would be best if Miss Edel did not accompany the expedition."
Flamme looked at Edel with complete sincerity. For this young woman who had so eagerly volunteered to join the subjugation party, she truly wanted to spare her from a pointless death.
"No! I have to go see her!"
But Miss Edel's resolve was clearly unshakeable — not the sort of thing anyone else could sway.
"I... I'm going too!"
Another voice rose up — slightly lower in pitch, but just as firm.
"Ehre..."
Lernen looked at his little granddaughter and felt a headache coming on.
Ever since the girl had heard that the Association was deliberating action against Fíliya, she had been relentlessly pestering him, begging to be included in the discussions.
Unable to hold out against Ehre's persistence, Lernen had swallowed his pride and asked Serie herself to allow Ehre into the meeting.
What he hadn't anticipated was that Ehre, too, harbored such fierce desire to join the subjugation — to go and face Fíliya herself.
"Enough of this nonsense."
Serie's voice cut through the room without warning. Everyone fell silent at once.
"You are both gifted young talents — but you are still in the midst of growing. This is not something you should be facing. Hardship can drive a person's growth, but hardship too severe will only cut you down before you ever reach your potential. I don't want to hear such talk again."
Serie's voice was cold.
And so, though both Edel and Ehre were deeply reluctant, neither dared say another word.
"No — I actually think we should bring Miss Edel and Miss Ehre along."
Just as silence fell over the room once more, Frieren chose that moment to speak.
Every gaze in the hall turned toward her.
"Why?" Serie looked at her, puzzled.
"Serie... why can't we simply admit that we elves are a dull, imagination-poor race? The situation has reached a point where we must try every possibility available to us. As time passes, the human nations across the continent will continue to fracture further — I've heard that riots have already broken out in quite a few places. Some people are willing to upend their governments entirely just to reach the Far North. And there are already those among the first wave of human leaders who have abandoned all thought of governance, abandoned their people, emptied their national treasuries, and are preparing to bring their entire fortunes to the Far North — pledging loyalty to the Demon King in exchange for immortality."
"The campaign against Fíliya is now a matter of urgency. If those of us with power but no imagination cannot come up with answers — why not trust in the young, who are still full of possibility? Their strength may be unripe, and their real combat experience limited. But they always manage to bring ideas that catch us off guard, don't they? Fern is the best proof of that."
"Frieren..."
Flamme stared at her elven student with something close to shock. For a moment she could scarcely believe those words had come from Frieren's mouth.
This child really had grown.
Flamme smiled softly and nodded, then turned to observe the reactions of Miss Edel and Miss Ehre.
Both of them were visibly moved — deeply grateful that Frieren had spoken up on their behalf.
If the young ones themselves were unafraid of death, what reason was there left to stop them?
Flamme thought as much, and so she turned to Serie as well.
"Frieren's words aren't without merit, Teacher. Please — allow these two children to come along. They may well bring results no one expects."
"...Fine."
Though a trace of reluctance still lingered on her face, seeing that even Flamme no longer objected, Serie relented.
"Beyond this point lies the Far North."
Frieren gazed at the landscape stretching before her, and for a moment, something like quiet feeling welled up inside her.
What had she been feeling the last time she stood here? Probably much the same as now — nervous, but with just a touch of excitement underneath.
"To think I'd be setting out to slay the Demon King again... I honestly expected you'd drag your feet the whole way, Himmel, just like last time — wasting everyone's time before finally making it here."
Eisen gripped his battle axe and watched Himmel's silhouette, unable to resist taking a jab at his old companion who had returned from the dead.
"Mm... I really do want to savor this second chance at life. But now isn't the time for that. Until we put an end to the chaos that's thrown the whole world into turmoil — no one has the right to enjoy happiness."
Himmel's expression was calm and unhurried. He simply raised his Hero's Sword high, leveling its blade toward the direction of the Demon King's Castle.
"Fair enough... So then — does the man who crawled back from the underworld still move as well as he used to?"
Eisen kept talking. His thick beard hid most of his face, but everyone present could tell — he was smiling.
"I could say the very same to you, Eisen... Yes, I did die once, but the body I have now is young. You, on the other hand, have aged quite a bit since then — can you still swing that axe?"
"Of course. I have no intention of giving up the title of 'Humanity's Strongest Warrior' so easily. Even if my own disciple came for it, they'd have to beat me first."
Eisen's eyes shone with unshakeable conviction — the very picture of a man who refused to admit age or defeat.
"...Master, what are you talking about? I never had any intention of taking your title... And besides, when did you get so bold all of a sudden...?"
Stark, standing to the side, could only blink in confusion.
In his memory, his master Eisen — though a legendary warrior who had helped defeat the Demon King — was in practice no different from an ordinary old man... Except for being unusually strict when teaching him combat techniques, Eisen had spent most of his time in a state of quiet, almost sullen withdrawal.
To think his master could make a face like that — burning with the will to fight. It was genuinely surprising.
"Master Eisen is probably just putting on a brave front... Acting tough when he's actually terrified, gritting his teeth and saying it doesn't hurt when it clearly does... Boys are always like that."
Fern, standing beside Stark, offered her own take on the scene.
"Uh... Fern, do you realize how many people you just hit with that?"
Fern's wide-area devastation of a remark left more than a few of the men present looking distinctly uncomfortable.
"Well done, Fern — spoken like a true student of mine. You found the weak point immediately... That's exactly how boys are."
Frieren, for her part, was delighted. She reached out and patted her disciple on the head.
One of them had died and come back. The other had lived for several centuries — and though Dwarves lived far shorter lives than Elves, that was still a remarkably long time to have existed. Yet the moment they were together again, the two of them were bickering like a pair of children, without a trace of tension between them.
Frieren watched the two of them and couldn't help but laugh. She had half a mind to step forward and remind them both to act a little more serious — this was, after all, a mission to save the world... But somehow, the more Himmel put on that carefree, out-of-place attitude, the more Frieren's own nerves quietly settled.
She glanced back at the people around her. Almost everyone was the same — the expedition party that had set out wearing heavy expressions now looked considerably more at ease.
Well, wasn't that just fine. Being too tense wouldn't help anyone perform at their best.
That said, it wouldn't be accurate to say every last person had calmed down. At the very least, there was still one — a child with hair long enough to brush the ground — whose face remained clouded with worry.
So Frieren quietly drifted over to Sense's side.
"We'll be seeing that kid soon enough."
Faced with Frieren's quiet opening, Sense didn't quite know how to respond.
"Don't worry... I'm furious at her too. So it won't be for anyone else's sake — it'll be out of my own anger. I'll make her cry, make her get down on her knees and beg for mercy."
Hearing those words, Sense finally understood.
Ah... this elf had come over to comfort her.
And so she managed, at last, to squeeze out just a small smile.
"...Thank you. But she's my little sister, so... I won't back down either."
"Is that so. Then pull yourself together — you have no chance of winning looking like that. Get your head in the game."
Frieren said nothing more. A brief, matter-of-fact word of encouragement to Sense — and then she turned and walked back to the front.
"Frieren, there's something I don't understand."
Seeing Frieren return, Fern fell into step with her again.
Fern almost never called Frieren "Teacher" — after all, in their daily life together, it was Frieren who was forever being looked after by Fern, not the other way around.
"You want to ask why Serie didn't come with us, don't you?"
Frieren anticipated Fern's thought before she could voice it.
"...Yes."
Fern gave a straightforward nod.
"She definitely has her own thinking. She'll probably only show herself at the most critical moment. Aces are always saved to match against other aces."
"I see..."
Fern nodded again, but a shadow of undeniable gloom passed through her eyes.
"...Mm. I think it's a real shame too. That drunkard of a monk was genuinely reliable when it counted — if Heiter were here, our odds would be quite a bit better."
This was proof of how much Frieren had grown. The Frieren of old could never have read her disciple's feelings this precisely and responded so directly.
"..."
Seeing that Fern had gone quiet, Frieren said nothing more either. She simply reached out again, and gently placed her hand on Fern's head.
At that moment, a surge of mana approached at high speed — and everyone instinctively shifted into a defensive stance.
But Frieren called out immediately.
"It's Master."
The instant she spoke, Flamme appeared before them all. And what made everyone do a double-take was what Flamme was carrying — held by the scruff in her hand was a Demon of a very familiar silhouette.
The creature had fully transformed herself into gold — Gold Transformation Magic and all — and the expression frozen on her gilded face was one of sheer, undiluted terror.
"Master... how did you catch her?"
Frieren was taken aback as well. Aura should have been inside the Demon King's Castle, or at Fíliya's side — why had she turned up here at the periphery, only to be captured by Flamme, who had gone ahead as the vanguard?
Flamme had, of course, volunteered for the vanguard role herself.
Though in the latter half of her life Flamme had spent most of her time in quiet study, compiling her theories and knowledge into texts for those who would come after her — no one could overlook the fact that her combat ability was the genuine article: a true Great Mage.
"I'm not entirely sure myself, but she has the mana of a Greater Demon, and yet I caught her without much trouble at all... Is she the type that doesn't do well in one-on-one fights?"
Flamme herself hadn't expected things to go so smoothly. At the outset, she had simply intended to scout the enemy's situation for her juniors. She had emerged from the Demon King's Castle, yes — but that was long ago, and no one knew what changes the Far North might have undergone since then.
After a thorough reconnaissance, she came away with quite a haul. After all... it was the first time even she had ever seen demons building houses on their own initiative — and not just one or two, but whole settlements of them.
Shortly after pressing deeper into the Far North, she located a cluster of demon activity. She had no intention of engaging them — she simply committed the location to memory and moved on.
But just as she was preparing to scout elsewhere, she stumbled across someone radiating an unusually large pool of mana. She concealed herself again immediately.
The figure was unmistakably Aura.
Even now, Flamme found it strange.
She knew this demon, of course — she had seen her at Fíliya's side before. Flamme had no particular interest in the demon race, but she certainly remembered a face once she'd seen it.
So what was a Greater Demon like Aura doing out here alone?
And more puzzling still — she had planted herself in front of a crowd of low-ranking demons busily constructing buildings and was lecturing them with an air of supreme self-importance. What was the point of that?
If a Greater Demon wanted the lower ranks to fall in line, all she had to do was demonstrate her power. Why go through the very human-sounding ritual of delivering a speech?
It seems that while I wasn't watching, this child Fíliya has brought some rather curious changes to the demon race.
The hypothesis formed quickly in Flamme's mind.
Demons forming settlements and building their own homes. A Greater Demon showing up in person to lecture them. Both were strange beyond measure.
And so Flamme made up her mind: she would capture this Aura first and sort out the details later.
She had no desire to disturb the demon settlement — though even if she did, she wasn't afraid of what that would bring. What concerned her was something else entirely: if too many demons were alerted, would that information somehow reach Fíliya?
After all... given that Fíliya had managed to summon demons scattered across the entire continent to her cause, she almost certainly possessed some means of communicating with other demons regardless of distance.
That meant she had to move fast, precise, and decisive — subduing the Greater Demon before she had any chance to react.
Was that even possible?
Flamme had boundless confidence in her own abilities, but... neutralizing a Greater Demon before she could so much as flinch was still a considerable challenge.
Even so, she decided to act.
She moved — and then... caught Aura with almost embarrassing ease. So easily, in fact, that Flamme herself could scarcely believe it.
The woman was already in her grip, and still wore a look of blank bewilderment — only belatedly triggering Gold Transformation Magic to encase herself, as if that counted as refusing to cooperate.
With nothing else to be done, Flamme brought the self-gilded Aura back to the subjugation party as she was.
——
"Oh my, Aura really wasn't paying attention, was she. And just like that, she's been caught."
Fíliya spoke from her throne with an air of theatrical regret, shaking her head as though deeply moved by the tragedy of it all.
But Solitär, seated beside her, was looking at her with undisguised suspicion.
"Don't tell me this was deliberate again. You knew perfectly well that the human subjugation force was closing in on the Far North — and you still sent Aura out to 'inspect' things."
Could anything be more suspicious than that? This one had stopped bothering to even pretend. She could survey every demon's situation from her throne without moving a muscle — and yet she had gone out of her way to send Aura out to observe the construction work.
And Aura — absolute fool that she was — hadn't noticed a single thing was off. She'd gone along without a second thought. Probably the moment she imagined all those low-ranking demons fawning over her and calling her "Lady Aura," she was already humming to herself in delight.
The more Solitär thought about it, the angrier she got. She fixed Fíliya with a venomous glare, seething at how this insufferable woman had fed Aura to the enemy and was now sitting there as if nothing had happened at all.
"Hmm? Did I? All I said at the time was that someone needed to go and inspect the demons' construction progress. Aura volunteered herself — in fact, she practically fought you for the privilege."
A sly smile began to spread across Fíliya's face.
Solitär blinked, and then cast her mind back to what had actually happened.
She had sensed something was wrong the moment Fíliya announced the task — which was precisely why she had stepped forward first.
[I dare you to throw me away too.]
That was exactly the sort of half-defiant, half-petulant spirit Solitär had brought to the moment.
When Solitär stepped up, a flash of genuine awkwardness had crossed Fíliya's face.
And then Aura had bounded forward, already talking.
"No, no — Solitär, you can't go. If you leave, what are we supposed to eat?"
Just recalling Aura's idiotic face in that moment made Solitär want to look away. She shook her head.
To make it worse, Tot had stood up right alongside her with a look of utter seriousness, chiming in his agreement.
"Right — eat — yes — what would we eat."
Absolutely hopeless, all of them.
And so it was that under Aura's vigorous lobbying, Fíliya had ultimately handed the inspection duties over to her.
Before leaving, Aura had cheerfully clapped Solitär on the shoulder and told her to "have a nice meal ready for when I get back."
Replaying that absurd scene in her head, Solitär could only think one thing.
Are these really humans?
Oh — no. None of them were human. Right.
Anyway. The real question now was:
What was this one scheming?
Solitär finally collected herself, and turned her glare back on Fíliya.
"Fine... I just happened to realize that Aura's existence is something of a problem. If she's on my side, then the numerical advantage the humans are so proud of becomes meaningless. No matter how many soldiers they send, as long as Aura is there, she could wipe out every mid- and low-tier fighter in an instant. That's not a good situation."
"So — in order to let the subjugation army feel free to surround me using their numbers — I've very thoughtfully sent Aura away."
"As for Aura's safety, don't worry about it. The subjugation party won't hurt her — they'll want to extract information first."
Solitär stared hard into Fíliya's eyes for a long moment, then let out a long, heavy sigh — the sigh of someone who had given up entirely.
She truly had no idea what to do with this Demon King who was single-mindedly paving the road for humanity.
Slowly, she walked to Fíliya's side. Slowly, she settled herself onto Fíliya's lap. As their eyes met, she reached up and curled her fingers into the collar of that infuriating woman's clothes.
Fíliya's expression remained perfectly calm. She was dressed today in the outfit Solitär had sewn for her — made to Fíliya's own specifications, which had insisted it be "cool" and include a "one-shoulder cape."
"I don't care what game you're playing... Don't forget what you promised me."
Solitär said it coldly.
"Of course. That one thing — I will never forget. Not ever."
A faint, quiet smile rested on Fíliya's face.
At that, Solitär released her grip with a helpless exhale, turned her face away, and stewed in sullen silence.
As for their agreement — it was, at its heart, quite simple.
Solitär could accept anything. Even if Fíliya truly intended to destroy the world, she would gladly serve as her accomplice.
There was only one thing she could not accept.