"Let's head out. Forgot anything?"
"Don't treat me like a kid."
Himmel's tone, as if I'm Linie, annoys me. We're outside the capital's gate—my second visit finally over. No fond memories here. This time or last, both bad enough to swear off returning.
No gains for our goal. No sign or rumor of that elf. The mimic trap plan failed. Maybe it was flawed from the start. I ended up collecting grimoires, like her. Depressing realization.
"Your red robe suits you better than vestments."
"You're still hung up on that?"
"What?"
Himmel teases, targeting my robe. The capital's one perk is not needing it. Yet he wears a matching one. A jab for earlier? Petty.
"Enough. Where are those two?"
I look back—no Heiter or Eisen. I thought they'd join us, but they're off together, as always.
"They're hitting sweet shops. Probably Jumbo Berry Specials—Eisen's favorite."
"What's with those two?"
"Best friends. Me included."
Himmel brags, baffling me. What's their deal? Sweet shops in the capital? I can picture them giggling over desserts. Two old men—unbearable image. Good call not staying.
"Fine. Why not stay? Plenty to do here."
"Wouldn't ruin their fun. Can't let you go alone. Friends, right?"
"Forgot about that."
His answer stuns me. Friends? A concept harder than malice. Demons have it, but his version's different. Five years as "friends," yet it feels unchanged. I forgot until now. He's returning with me—noble, but maybe he's avoiding capital trouble.
"Plus, Linie's waiting. Don't want to inconvenience her."
"True."
I agree. No tasks left, but Linie's my main reason to leave. She's trouble—village peace at stake. Himmel's concerned too.
"It's been a while since we're alone. Reminds me of old times."
As we walk, Himmel muses nostalgically. He's right—since Linie, we're rarely alone. Villagers and the party keep us busy. Early on, being alone with him was torture. Maybe I'm free now.
"That was recent."
"For you. I remember. Someone plotting escapes."
"Forget that already."
To me, recent; to him, vivid. All humiliating memories—my desperate escape attempts. He knew but ignored them. Infuriating. He'll never forget.
"Sorry, it's in my diary. Even if I forget, it stays."
"Then I'll burn it."
"Tch, trouble… Kidding, right?"
His diary—self-written legacy. He's meticulous about it. Can't he use that elsewhere? My threat's real; he panics. Serves him right. After banter—
"You got magic from her, right?"
He asks casually, hero-like.
"How'd you know?"
I retort, but I know. He reads people—even demons. I'm used to it, yet it's unnerving.
"Frieren said she's childlike, clumsy."
"You're one to talk."
He cheated—Frieren's intel. Like master, like disciple. Flamme, cherished, was a whim disciple. He didn't say then, wary of Serie. Good call—it'd spark chaos. He'd get called out too.
"Not asking what?"
"Wouldn't tell, would you?"
"Infuriating."
"My pleasure."
He predicts my response, infuriating me. Am I that transparent? Less chance to deceive humans now? No, he's just immune. Heroes are demons' bane—except maybe Linie.
"Still, you're amazing, Aura. Changing her in so little time."
He spouts nonsense, unlike Serie's monologue-like disdain.
"Huh? I didn't."
"No, you did. She wasn't going to give you magic. Your words, actions changed her. Slightly, but you altered someone's life."
"Exaggerating. What's the point?"
"Not clear yet. But it matters. A whim can topple a Demon King over a millennium."
His goody-two-shoes logic. Why so grand? I just mimicked him—Serie saw through it. The magic was her whim. Yet he insists it's meaningful.
Her whim disciple, Flamme, saved Frieren. Frieren's whim magic made Himmel a hero. That chain felled the Demon King.
What of my whims? What lies ahead? Maybe Himmel sees it.
"Any magic, a privilege… The world's vast. Ten years traveling, still so much unknown."
His eyes gleam, childlike, adventurer's spirit. Beating the Demon King was just a stop.
"What magic would you pick?"
My question slips out—not his mimicry, my own.
"Easy. I'd refuse. Chasing dreams is the fun."
Confidently, he echoes Frieren—Serie's "foolish" answer. I agree. They're idiots.
"You're two peas in a pod."
Perfect match. Only fools tolerate fools. Good thing I didn't pick a search spell—he doesn't need it. No reason for me to bother. Let him be.
"I'm chasing it now. Rough road ahead."
He declares, eyeing me. Infuriating. I know his dream—unspoken, conveyed silently.
"Good. That's what you want, right?"
"Exactly. You're getting it."
My sarcasm fails. It's his nature now.
"Big dreams are fine, but catch that migratory bird first."
"No worries. You're helping. Thanks, Aura."
"Idiot."
I call Frieren a bird, like them. He gets it instantly—his crew, his friends. Spilling everything. Hiding from him was futile. Maybe Heiter and Eisen planned this. I can't beat them. Even the Demon King couldn't.
"She said… you sure about keeping me? I could become a Demon King."
I recall Serie's words—her intuition. My demonic ambition, yet unreal. A chilling premonition, like Schlacht's foresight, in her words.
Not a question for Himmel. I know he won't kill me. This tests him as a hero. If I become a threat, a Demon King, ruining everything? Before recalling her last words—
"No worries. It won't happen. If it does, stopping you's my job. Know what? Heroes have a privilege to stop Demon Kings."
He smiles, saying "stop," not "kill"—classic Himmel. Using "privilege" mockingly. If heroes have that power, no wonder they stopped the Demon King. I can't beat him either.
"Fine. I'll wait till you're gone."
"Listen properly."
Then it'll be after his death. I was right—wait out the hero. So I will, as a demon.
Unknowingly, I grip the accessory. The robe hides it from Himmel. First time it's useful.
"Let's go. Linie's waiting."
"Yeah. House might collapse otherwise."
"! R-Right, let's hurry!"
Imagining our half-ruined home, Himmel quickens. I trail, a familiar yet rare duo journey. We walk—toward home.
Six months later, at an old magic shop on the Central Countries' edge.
"Heard there's a mage event in the capital soon."
"Already happened, sir."
"What?"
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