"Hiss… my head hurts. I feel like I remembered a little bit of something from before…"
"Weird… even earlier than that, I don't think I was like this. What were the names of those guys I tricked and killed again?"
"Majet? Or was it Wikabib?"
"Whatever, not important. Let's sleep a bit more…"
After the school field trip, back at the otaku apartment, Diego collapsed into bed and slept for three straight days without getting up. His headache grew increasingly severe.
This pain was impossible to resist. It came without warning, striking in sudden waves. The sensation was similar to the nerve pain of having a tooth nerve extracted during root canal treatment.
Hiss—
That night, Diego was jolted awake by another violent headache. He climbed out of bed, sat on the edge, and panted heavily.
"Haa… haa… I let my guard down. Even I, Dio… my soul and body have reached their limit…" Diego rubbed his temples. Signs of dinosaur transformation crawled across his entire face as he tried to endure this wave of pain.
Soon after, Diego struggled through it. He was drenched in cold sweat, looking utterly miserable.
Though extremely reluctant, it was time to abandon this body…
A body created by a goddess could not be overused. Even with Heavenly Restriction, it couldn't withstand repeated soul-tearing consequences.
As the frequency increased beyond what the soul could endure, it triggered pain—and the pain grew more intense.
The agony of soul-splitting was several times more excruciating than physical tearing.
Indeed, leaving a sliver of soul behind to maintain the passage had already left Diego's soul in a fragmented state.
Although there had been eleven years of rest in between, given the flow of time in Frieren's world, the rate at which Diego tore his soul away was pathologically high.
Now Diego's soul was like a candle in the wind—its faint flame flickered violently in the gale, ready to extinguish at the slightest provocation.
How hard could it be for one dragon to keep huffing every day?
In the bedroom, Diego waved his hand. The wind sprite instantly understood. A gust appeared out of nowhere, swept up the water glass on the table, and delivered it to Diego's hand.
Gulp gulp…
At that moment, the voice of the space sprite arrived.
"Dio-sama, Frieren-sama is about to confront Headless Aura."
"Hm? It's fine. Frieren won't lose to her." Diego waved dismissively, acting indifferent. But soon a grave expression appeared on his face. "Wait… this might actually be an opportunity I can use."
Crack…
The glass shattered violently in Diego's grip. Shards fell across the bed, glinting in the moonlight.
"Hmph! Schlacht… although back then I let you let Aura escape… but you risked your life to save her just to use her against me—that was your strategic mistake!"
"The 'plan' has already taken shape… a plan led by Aura to fully restore my soul. Though I must prepare myself to a certain extent, I've already made up my mind."
"Behind me, I, Dio… a victorious wind is blowing to speed me forward…"
...
Seventy-eight years after Diego disappeared…
—Northern Countries, Granat County Territory—
Frieren checked her luggage into the inn and left Stark and the others behind to go browse the magic shops alone.
After Fern and Stark finished their super-sized berry sundaes at a dessert shop in town, they prepared to meet up with Frieren.
"So small…" On the street, Stark couldn't hide his disappointment. He held his head in his arms and gazed idly at the sky. "The super-sized sundaes Master used to make were so big…"
"That's because Stark-sama has grown up." Fern walked behind him and picked up the conversation.
"No no no, the super-sized sundaes Master made back then couldn't even fit on a whole table. I stuffed myself and still only ate a small portion."
"Mm… eating that much would upset your stomach, though."
"Huh? Fern, didn't you know?" Stark blinked, clenched his small fists seriously, and declared, "It's perfectly normal for warriors to eat that much, so it won't upset your stomach—because that's what Master told me!"
"This weird belief… was it passed down from Mabel-sama or Diego-sama…" Fern broke out in black lines, her gaze tinged with dissatisfaction. "Mm. From now on, no more eating super-sized sundaes all at once."
It will definitely upset your stomach!
"Huh?! Why—"
"Mm?"
"Yes, I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Sensing Fern's unfriendly look, Stark's tone instantly weakened. He obediently chose to apologize.
Sorry, Master. We can't eat super-sized sundaes to celebrate anymore.
o(╥﹏╥)o
(Diego, who used to binge-eat before consuming Mahoraga: gulp~)
The two arrived at a magic shop. Stark looked around but couldn't spot that familiar white figure.
"But where exactly did Frieren go? I can't find her at all."
"Can't be helped. Frieren-sama probably ran off to buy a bunch of weird stuff again." Fern pictured Frieren hugging an armful of junk. Her expression tensed, and her tone grew slightly anxious. "Stark-sama, we have to find Frieren-sama before she spends all our travel money!"
"Huh?! What kind of bizarre money sense is that?"
"It's all Diego-sama's fault for spoiling Frieren-sama. He never refuses any of her requests, so now she completely can't understand why 'no money' could ever happen to her!" Fern pursed her lips, instantly puffing out her cheeks in anger. "If we don't find Frieren-sama soon, we'll end up living without snacks every day."
[Frieren (angry face): Don't call it spoiling.]
Hearing this, Stark instantly understood the gravity of the situation. A bead of cold sweat appeared on his forehead. He rushed out onto the street and began searching, anxiously shouting: "Then what are we waiting for? Let's hurry and find Frieren!"
"Hmph hmph, Stark-sama is a normal person after all." Fern's voice carried unconcealable delight. She took small quick steps to catch up with Stark and asked, "Stark-sama, do you have any idea where Frieren-sama might have gone?"
"No clue, but Master taught me a magical way to ask for directions!"
Through their tireless efforts (Stark lifted his bangs and used the scar on his forehead to intimidate passersby), they finally extracted Frieren's whereabouts from a merchant.
"Um… I just saw the white-haired elf head toward the intersection up ahead. Eek—also, could you not stand so close…"
"Great! Now our daily snacks are safe!" Stark's spirits lifted instantly. He immediately ran toward the nearby intersection.
At the corner, Stark's eyes widened and he stopped dead.
Huh? What's this situation?
Shoo shoo shoo…
Ordinary attack magic gathered in the staff, poised to strike at the three demons following behind Count Granat and his party.
The moment I arrived, I saw Frieren pulling out her staff to fight demons.
What appeared next in his vision was Frieren being violently pinned to the ground by guards, her attack magic interrupted.
"Hey!! What do you think you're doing!!" the guard shouted.
The demon Lugner following Count Granat froze for a moment, then turned with an innocent look and asked: "Count Granat, is this your doing?"
Count Granat's expression was grave. His gaze darkened slightly as he explained: "Lord Lugner, I truly despise demons. But I'm not foolish enough to attack peace envoys in broad daylight."
Demons, peace talks?
What a joke!
Behind the wall, Stark's eyes narrowed. Though his body trembled, in that instant he chose to abandon thinking and surrender control to instinct.
Without further thought, he drew the war axe from his back, gritted his teeth, and charged out. He swung with full force at Lugner's wide-open defenses, closing the distance instantly.
Clang—Boom!
A sword?!
The petite female demon Linie, who had been following Lugner, struck decisively. A light orb in her hand condensed into a one-handed sword and blocked the blow.
The ground beneath Linie's feet cracked and spiderwebbed from the impact. The gothic lolita dress she wore fluttered wildly in the wind pressure.
"I won't let you harm Lord Lugner." Linie's expression was cold. Her sword pointed at Stark.
"Hey! Adventurer! Don't you understand the situation?!" Count Granat's eyes bulged as he roared. "They are peace envoys sent by Aura, who has grown tired of meaningless slaughter!"
"Stinky old man, I should be saying that to you!" Stark didn't loosen his grip on the axe. He increased his strength again, the blade pressing straight toward Linie's head as he retorted, "If sheep could avoid being eaten by wolves just by bleating, wolf packs would have starved to death long ago!"
"To be honest, I never want to see demons destroy someone's precious hometown again—even if they destroy everything here, would that be okay?"
The guards gradually surrounded Stark, clearly ready to act, but seeming wary of his war axe, they held back from making the next move.
"Talking with demons is completely meaningless. They're just beasts that imitate human speech but are incapable of real communication." Frieren's expression remained calm as she silently watched everything unfold.
While the demons' attention was drawn to Stark, Count Granat gave the guards a look. They instantly understood. Frieren suddenly felt the pressure holding her down lighten.
"Lord Lugner, I truly wished to bring you to see my son in his room, but it seems the schedule must change." Count Granat stepped in front of Lugner and spoke word by word. "Though I didn't want it to happen in the middle of the street."
"?"
Confusion appeared on Lugner's face. The hand behind his back exerted slight force.
"Ten years ago, my son lost an arm in battle against Aura. If Lady Elga hadn't passed by and intervened, he would have died long ago. Peace talks can go to hell!" Count Granat drew a sword from his waist and pointed it straight at Lugner's throat, speaking gravely. "Today I will avenge that lost arm. You all die here!"
The guards surrounded the demons completely. The awkwardly suited Dorat, seeing the situation turn sour, manipulated several thin threads toward the guards' throats.
Boom!
Stark swung his axe without hesitation and severed both of Dorat's hands that controlled the threads.
Master said demons have no sense of pain—it's just a lost hand. They'll regenerate quickly.
Gotta press the advantage!
"Tch. There was still room for diplomacy…" Lugner's expression darkened. He bit his own wrist, blood slowly flowing from the wound. "Dorat, you useless fool—you've wasted all our efforts up to now."
"Blood Drive Magic."
The blood solidified under magical influence. Multiple blood threads shot out, aiming straight for everyone surrounding them.
Shoo!
A single ordinary attack magic shattered the Blood Drive Magic instantly.
From afar, Frieren stood holding her staff, expressionless as she spoke: "Don't move."
"Looks like we've been caught in a trap. Quite troublesome." Lugner condensed Blood Drive Magic again. Massive amounts of blood enveloped the three demons in a protective barrier. His voice echoed from within the blood wall. "But this hopeless situation that can only be resolved through violence… fills me with immense pleasure."
"Lord Lugner, that warrior's attacks are very heavy. He's strong." Linie's sword hand trembled continuously from the immense force as she warned.
"Then kill him first."
Several threads burst from the blood wall, shooting straight toward Stark's neck in an attempt to decapitate him.
Stark crouched to dodge, raised his axe, and cleaved into the blood wall. A crack opened under the tremendous force. Through the fissure appeared that familiar face.
It was Lugner!
At the same moment, a giant claw formed of blood lunged out. Unable to evade completely, Stark could only raise his arm to block and was knocked to the ground.
"Avoided the vital spot? Good reflexes." Lugner's expression remained calm. His gaze locked tightly onto Frieren, maintaining his unruffled smile. "Do you know why I'm not looking at you directly? Because I could kill you anytime."
"Anytime?" Stark resisted the intensifying Blood Drive Magic. The corners of his mouth curved up slightly as he spoke with some amusement. "You still haven't noticed anything… The ones who could be killed anytime—are you!"
"What are you talking about?"
"Fern—now!!!"
Oh no!!
Shoo! Shoo! Shoo!
Lugner whipped his head around, but three shots of Frieren-modified demon-slaying magic pierced through the heads of Lugner, Linie, and Dorat—the three decapitation officers—before the blood wall could fully form.
"When exactly…"
Why hadn't even Linie, who excelled at magic detection, noticed…
Before Lugner could finish, he died on the spot.
With the crisis resolved, Fern slowly descended from dozens of meters in the air and lightly dusted off her clothes.
Stark lay on the ground and slowly spoke: "Fern."
"What is it, Stark-sama?" Fern tilted her head and asked softly. "You were very brave just now."
"Can you help me up?" Two tears streamed down Stark's face as he sobbed. "My legs feel weak from fear… I can't stand…"
"Mm—"
Fern dragged Stark away.
So heavy. Why is this person so heavy!
But I don't want to use the floating magic that can make people hover…
...
—Granat Family Residence—
In the living room, several cups of hot tea slowly released white mist on the table. Delicious pastries sat nearby. Count Granat and Frieren's party sat on the sofa discussing intelligence about Aura.
"Frieren, you could have easily taken out those three demons, right? Why didn't you act?" Stark suddenly asked.
"Because the two of you weren't any weaker than them. So I just needed to provide a little support." The corners of Frieren's mouth curved up slightly as she smiled in reply.
"But I really almost got killed…" Stark's body trembled slightly. Then he glanced at Count Granat, whose expression had grown even worse, and asked, "Uncle, what's wrong with you?"
Frieren, did I hear that right…
One of Diego Brando's former party members.
I had the guards pin her down—am I going to get killed?
Even so, Count Granat's mouth remained merciless: "…Stinky brat, showing disrespect to me in this city is a serious crime!"
"What?! And here I thought you were slightly better… but you nobles are exactly like what Master said!"
"Master? Who's your master? Even if he's the emperor—"
"Let me think… the tone Master used back then should have been…" Stark looked up, recalling, then clapped his hands as he reached a conclusion. "…It was Diego Master!"
"Fine! Treat me like a normal friend to chat with! Ah no—I mean, I was just kidding…" Count Granat's momentum instantly deflated.
Fern, who was eating pastries, blinked and quietly leaned toward Frieren's ear, whispering: "Frieren-sama, Count Granat seems very afraid of Diego-sama."
"Because back then…"
"Ahem, I'll explain. It's nothing shameful anyway—everyone's the same, everyone's the same." Count Granat took a deep breath and slowly began: "My grandfather…"
"…Back then, Diego Brando took control of all the Empire's nobility and created a massive dinosaur army. My grandfather was one of them—the 257th dinosaur soldier to be knocked flying by Serie-sama."
"Though my grandfather had been turned into a dinosaur, he still retained fragments of memory in a haze. After being freed from dinosaurization, he added one family rule and made his descendants remember it for generations—"
"Never put on aristocratic airs in front of Diego Brando."
"A lesson written in blood and tears."
...