It was dark.
Terrifyingly dark.
Ren's consciousness slowly surfaced from the void.
The crackling of burning wood reached his ears, accompanied by the pungent scent of herbs mixed with animal hide. The smell forced its way into his nose, sharp and unfamiliar.
He struggled to open his eyes.
His vision swam, overlapping and unfocused, until at last it settled on a wooden beam overhead.
"#…%&￥@…?"
A hoarse male voice spoke beside him, muttering in a language he couldn't understand.
Ren turned his head slightly and saw a burly man standing beside the bed—thick beard, rugged face, and a vest made from animal hide. The man held a wooden bowl filled with a dark, murky liquid.
Where… am I?
His memories were in complete disarray.
The only thing he could clearly recall was his name—Ren—and that he came from another world.
The bearded man noticed him stirring and broke into a relieved grin, saying something rapidly before offering the bowl toward him.
Ren forced himself upright and realized he was lying on a crude wooden bed. Looking around, he saw bows, arrows, and animal pelts hanging from the walls.
A hunter's cabin.
Ignoring the suspicious-looking broth, Ren staggered to his feet and pushed open the door.
A blast of cold air rushed in, instantly clearing his mind.
Outside lay a world utterly unfamiliar to him.
Stone houses stood in neat rows, smoke curling gently from their chimneys. In the distance, endless green mountains stretched beneath a sky so blue it looked unreal. A few long-haired mountain goats grazed along the roadside, bells chiming softly as they moved.
Everything felt… ancient. Untouched. Primitive.
The burly man—Hans—followed him outside, gesturing nervously as if afraid he'd wander off.
But Ren barely noticed.
His gaze had locked onto the stone statue standing at the center of the village square.
It depicted a man wielding twin blades.
A cloak flowed behind the figure, his swords crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon.
Ren recognized him instantly.
The Hero of the South.
The legendary warrior who, before Himmel's era, had faced the Seven Sages of Destruction alone—slaying three of them and ultimately perishing together with Schlacht, the Omniscient Sage.
"…So this is it," Ren murmured.
"This is the world of... Frieren?"
Which meant—
"I've been isekai'd here. If it isn't a dream."
He stepped forward, hands trembling, and placed his palm against the cold stone base of the statue.
The moment he touched it—
Buzz!
A warm current surged into his body.
Then, a translucent blue interface unfolded before his eyes.
[Soul compatibility detected… Synchronization in progress…]
[Synchronization complete.]
[Inheriting partial authority of the Hero of the South…]
[Acquired: Hero of the South Physique]
[Acquired Skill: Dual-Wielding (Beginner)]
[Acquired Talent Magic: Future Sight (Incomplete)]
[Current synchronization rate: 5%]
[World Language Synchronization Complete]
[Seek additional statues of the Hero of the South to inherit remaining will.]
—
A torrent of knowledge flooded his mind.
Combat instincts.
Breathing techniques.
How to maintain balance at high speed.
The optimal angle to strike with twin blades.
The precise force required to sever a demon's neck.
Ren unconsciously clenched his fists.
Though empty, his hands felt heavy—as if they still remembered the weight of swords he had wielded for decades.
He felt like he could cut through the air itself.
"Hey! Are you alright?"
Hans's voice rang out again, this time clearly understandable.
Ren turned around, meeting the hunter's worried expression.
"I'm fine," he said, smiling faintly.
Hans exhaled in relief and clapped him on the shoulder.
"You had me worried. You were out cold all day. Didn't say a word when you woke up—I thought the forest miasma had messed with your head."
He squinted at Ren's clothes.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
Ren glanced down at his modern clothing and let out a dry laugh.
"No… I'm not."
He hesitated before asking, half-expecting ridicule.
"If I told you I'm not from this world… would you believe me?"
To his surprise, Hans simply scratched his beard and nodded.
"Yeah. Why not? After all, the place where you collapsed isn't exactly normal."
Ren froze.
"Where… did I collapse?"
"Near the Goddess Monument, north of the village."
His heart skipped a beat.
"The Goddess Monument?"
Hans nodded solemnly.
"There's an old legend here. They say the monument connects worlds. Some claim it can send people to the past. Others say it brings outsiders into this land."
"You're the first one we've seen in hundreds of years."
Ren's pulse quickened.
The Goddess Monument…
He remembered now. Ancient ruins tied to the Goddess of Creation.
"Then… is there a way back?" he asked urgently.
Hans shook his head.
"No one knows. Legends are just legends. But if there's an answer, it'd be there."
Ren fell silent.
Seeing his expression, Hans chuckled and slapped his shoulder.
"Don't look so gloomy. If you came through that monument, then maybe that's also where your answer lies."
"Those inscriptions on it are ancient—older than our kingdom. Maybe they hold a clue."
"Could you take me there?" Ren asked.
"Of course," Hans said, grabbing his axe. "But stick close. The forest's dangerous these days."
They soon arrived before the monument.
A massive slab of stone, weathered by time, its surface carved with countless runes.
Most were unreadable—even with the world's language now synced in his mind.
But near the bottom…
One line stood out, freshly carved.
[The Land Where Souls Rest] (Aureole)
Ren's breath caught.
He knew that name.
The place where the dead could be spoken to.
The destination of Frieren's journey.
The place she traveled to… to see Himmel one last time.
Could that place be the key to returning home?
But reality hit him quickly.
With only 5% of the Hero of the South's power, he wouldn't survive the northern plateau—let alone reach the Aureole.
And to even enter the region, one needed either:
Certification as a First-Class Mage or the escort of one.
He had neither.
Just as despair crept in—
His vision shifted.
A scene unfolded before his eyes.
A white-haired elf walked lazily ahead, suitcase in hand.
Behind her, a purple-haired girl clutched her staff, cheeks puffed in complaint.
Trailing behind them was a red-haired warrior carrying a massive axe, shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
The image was crystal clear.
Even the ruby earring on the elf's ear swayed gently with each step.
"…This is two months in the future."
And those three—
Frieren's party.
At that time, they would be heading toward Äußerst, the magic capital.
If he could travel with them—
The problem of certification would vanish.
And along the way…
They would pass Fabel Village, where another statue of the Hero of the South stood.
Ren exhaled slowly.
"So Future Sight isn't voluntary… I'll need more statues to master it."
Hans shivered as the wind picked up.
"It's getting cold. We should head back. The forest changes after dark—best not to linger."
Ren nodded.
But his gaze lingered on the monument.
Because now, he knew.
This world had given him an obvious path.
And the first step ofcourse...
Was to meet Frieren.