Meet it head-on!
Facing the shower of glintstone, the Ancient Hero of Zamor swung her curved greatsword, weaving an impenetrable wall of steel that intercepted each projectile.
Consider that the previous Demi-Human chieftain had been utterly powerless against such a bombardment. Yet, she, with almost divine skill, deflected and redirected every shard of magic, even managing to close the distance while doing so.
Suddenly, she ducked low, evading the main volley while simultaneously sweeping a wave of sharp ice shards across the ground.
Frieren stepped back effortlessly, dodging the attack.
At the same time, the staff in her hand switched to a different sorcery. A Carian Piercer arced through the air, slicing past the lingering ice shards and heading straight for its target.
Can't block this!
Battle-honed instinct saved the Ancient Hero of Zamor. This time, she didn't try to meet it head-on but rolled sideways. The piercing blade of light flew past her ear, carving a deep furrow in the ground.
This was completely different from ordinary glintstone sorcery. The sheer power of the caster overturned the known limits of magical damage.
And she hadn't escaped completely unscathed. A gash marked the armor on her flank. How many years had it been? Her armor actually damaged, and she herself wounded? Who was this unfamiliar Tarnished?
Regardless, the Ancient Hero of Zamor charged forward again without hesitation.
Clang!
Her longsword was unexpectedly parried by a katana, the force of the impact nearly jarring the weapon from her grasp. Seeing this, she roared with laughter, "Excellent!"
The fight reaching white-hot intensity, the two began clashing at mid-range. Both possessed ranged attacks – ice from one, glintstone from the other – trading blows that erupted in dazzling flashes of light and thunderous booms.
Finally, the Evergaol seal, unable to withstand the strain, shattered completely.
The shockwaves from their clash finally burst outwards, scouring the land like steam escaping a pressure cooker.
The ordinary folk who had been watching cautiously were sent tumbling, thrown off their feet by the terrifying force.
Fortunately, the situation was becoming clear:
The Ancient Hero of Zamor's movements were noticeably slowing. She wasn't yet acclimatized to the ambient magic levels of the Lands Between after so many years. It was like attempting strenuous rehabilitation exercises immediately upon facing a powerful foe; her stamina was clearly wearing thin.
As for Frieren, she was quite content to act as a sparring partner. Only she could face an ancient hero like this and control the pace of battle so perfectly – neither causing serious harm nor letting the collateral damage spread uncontrolled. Flawless.
Suddenly, the tall, pale-haired warrior spun in place, whipping up a vortex that began to resonate with the environment, summoning wind and snow.
"What a desolate age this is." She glanced around. "Can you change all this?"
"Of course."
"Then let me see just how capable the future king truly is!"
The Ancient Hero of Zamor gripped her sword with both hands, cloaking herself in biting frost. Her body, once bathed in snowstorms, showed no fear; instead, it weaponized the cold. Low-level magic couldn't even touch her body now; she seemed to have become a living blade.
She felt exhilarated, truly alive. She had thought she would rot away and die in this prison, but now she could fight without reservation. This was truly a blessing.
This magnificent Tarnished had extended an invitation, deeply moving the hero. But she had to test herself first:
Can I still charge into the fray?
In truth, the real test was for someone who hadn't tasted battle in countless years. Therefore, she had to give her all, an offering to her future commander. If Frieren couldn't withstand this, she wouldn't be worthy of joining her campaign.
With absolute resolve, the ice storm created a frost-colored sky. The highlands were blanketed in snow, the cold becoming bone-chillingly intense.
Then, the Ancient Hero of Zamor moved. Her greatsword, poised like a spear, gathered power, condensing the furious gale into a single point – a terrifying force of absolute zero hurtled towards the silver-haired girl.
Don't even think about dodging this technique that combines mass and area!
Crystal Burst!
Frieren used the recently acquired sorcery, launching hundreds of magic crystals to chip away at the massive ice projectile from its edges. Although the icy mass carved a serpentine path of destruction, Frieren's precise magic caused it to disintegrate from the outside in.
It was a masterful deflection, using finesse to overcome brute force. Her keen perception identified the ice's weak points, dismantling the attack with incredibly high-speed projectiles. A perfect counter.
The crystal magic from the Dark Souls world was no longer needed; she had found its counterpart native to this world.
The contest of strength ended faster than expected. Moments later, the Ancient Hero of Zamor staggered, dropping to one knee, supporting herself with her sword. Lifting her head, she saw the frost-imbued sword aura had completely vanished. At the far end of the icy field stood the silver-haired girl, slowly lowering her staff.
A glacier now lay between them, but the fervent heat of battle had already forged a mutual understanding, a connection.
"Your soul is... unique. Like a raging fire."
"Not many possess such insight."
The brief exchange of blows was enough for Frieren to understand that the hero's reputation was well-earned. Fame in the Lands Between carried weight. This person was highly capable, likely the strongest being on the Weeping Peninsula.
"The Giants once worshipped a Fell God of Flame, and Queen Marika punished their entire race for it. What do you think made her so anxious?"
"The Erdtree?"
"It's said the Giants' Flame can burn the Erdtree. Of course, there's also the death-infused Black Flame, the curse-laden Fire of the Serpent, not to mention the Frenzied Flame... Fire isn't generally seen as a good thing here."
"A tool depends on the user. You simply haven't met someone strong enough to master it."
"I know you have mastered it completely. That's why I want to see the day you reach Leyndell, the Royal Capital."
The tall, pale warrior held her longsword horizontally and gave a slight bow. Before all the witnesses, she spoke:
"My homeland was destroyed anyway. Please, call me Zamor. I shall accompany you in achieving your great work."
"My name is Frieren. My goal is the Elden Ring."
No further words were necessary. The connection between them had been forged in combat; they understood each other's nature. The goal was immense, but its challenge was precisely what made the alliance worthwhile.
Truthfully, other promises might not have swayed Zamor; she had seen too much. But the Elden Ring – that always stirred the heart.
She'd risk everything for this.
The expedition's objective was officially complete.
For Frieren, removing one troublesome Evergaol was already a benefit. Now, the eastern and western parts of the Weeping Peninsula were fully connected, making internal resource mobilization much easier.
She was likely the fastest to act. Estimating travel times, Edgar's party on the central-southern route should still be somewhere around the caves. At this moment, the surrounding crowd erupted in cheers, even more excited than the two combatants:
"Praise the great Lord of Limgrave!"
"The Weeping Peninsula will finally see true unification and integration!"
"Long live the Tarnished!"
Their impression of the Tarnished had even improved somewhat – after all, she was certainly better than the monsters.
"Right, I meant to ask earlier: Zamor, did you sense a strong magical presence over by those ruins?"
"I've seen that particular kind of magic before. It's likely used to seal someone. Don't tell me another prisoner showed up while I was locked away?"
Seeing Frieren's puzzled look, a nearby forest villager immediately answered, "Locals know it as the Witchbane Ruins. They say it's the Academy's cage for the Graven Witch."
"What's her name?"
"Sorceress Sellen of the Primeval Current."
"The Academy's power shouldn't extend into our rear lines. This isn't good."
Frieren glanced at Zamor. The latter raised her longsword and nodded. Her first task after pledging loyalty had already been found.
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