Frieren: Reincarnated As a Demon

Chapter 100: The Person Who Praises·

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Although Fern didn't look directly at Ash, her tenderness and anticipation were revealed through her subtle actions—grasping the sheets tightly and the emotion lingering in her eyes.

Even with his eyes closed, Ash could sense something. Yet, unless Fern spoke up, he wouldn't understand why she kept glancing at him, her gaze carrying a quiet hope.

'Do you want me to touch your head again? You really are such a child. I just did it, didn't I?' He smiled faintly at the thought and moved to sit beside her once more. Without hesitation, he gently stroked her soft, purple hair.

Fern's unease melted away almost instantly.

'As expected, Master Ash understands me. After this… he won't leave without saying anything again, right?' The warmth of his touch brought a sense of peace that made her lips curl into a small, contented smile. Quietly, she reached out and grasped the hem of his clothes, drifting into a deep, secure slumber.

Ash waited until she was fully asleep before withdrawing his hand. Then, he resumed his uninterrupted practice under the dark, wintry night sky.

---

The next morning, sunlight did not grace the room as expected.

The sky remained gloomy, and the icy wind howled through the gaps in the doors and windows.

Ash, who had stayed awake all night, opened the door to check outside. The world beyond was still blanketed in thick snow.

The blizzard, far from subsiding, continued unabated. Snowflakes fell endlessly, like streams of white gauze cascading from the heavens. The landscape—mountains, trees, and everything within sight—was transformed into an immaculate, pure white canvas. The sight was so breathtaking that Ash couldn't help but admire it.

"It's exactly as I imagined…"

BANG!

Before he could finish his thought, a hand slammed the door shut behind him.

Startled, Ash turned to see Frieren glaring up at him, her face flushed with irritation.

"Don't stand there sighing over the view! You might not feel the cold, but we're freezing to death in here!"

"Ah… my apologies."

"Forget it. At least you admitted it." Frieren wanted to lecture him, but his rare, honest apology softened her frustration. With a huff, she returned to the fire.

The group spent the morning gathered by the warmth of the flames, chatting idly. Later, they ventured outside together to retrieve Kraft's carriage, which had gotten stuck in the snow.

The supplies they recovered were plentiful enough to sustain the four of them through the bitter cold.

Despite their differences—especially when it came to faith and race—Frieren and Fern found it easy to converse with Kraft. As for Ash, his natural ease with conversation meant he could get along with anyone willing to talk, so there was no issue with communication.

---

In the days that followed, time slipped by like a gentle stream.

The cold wave from the north lingered, and the blizzard persisted intermittently, trapping the group in the cabin.

For Ash, however, being stuck indoors wasn't an issue. As a magician and a warrior with the rare ability to fly—a feat human magicians could not easily replicate—he would occasionally take advantage of breaks in the weather to leave under the pretense of exploring the surroundings.

In truth, he used these opportunities to travel to both the royal capital and the Demon King's Castle, neither of which was far from their current location.

Human flying magic, after all, was little more than a crude imitation of demonic techniques. It consumed an enormous amount of energy, lacked maneuverability, and was difficult to control.

This was why, even though they were all magicians, none of the others attempted to use flying magic to avoid the blizzard or speed up their travel. It was also the reason Frieren, despite her considerable strength, never chose to fly—even when they had risked being left behind before.

Ash could control his body to fly even in a blizzard, but Frieren and the others would be blown away by the fierce winds unless they used protective magic to shield themselves completely.

However, enveloping their entire bodies in protective magic would consume an enormous amount of magical power. Under normal circumstances, even when under attack, magicians only deploy protection briefly and only on the area being targeted.

Of course, while this protective magic consumes a significant amount of energy, its defensive capabilities are extraordinary. A single blast of ordinary attack magic, for instance, could pierce through five two-meter-thick earthen walls, leaving a hole with a diameter of over three meters.

In terms of destructive power, human attack magic, derived from the refinement of killing spells, far exceeds the strength of tank artillery. Its penetrative force is comparable to, or even greater than, the main guns of battleships during large-scale destruction.

Due to the immense energy consumption required for such magic, full-body protection while flying is impractical. Furthermore, short-term protection does not provide warmth, making it impossible to use this method to escape the cold.

---

As the snowstorm began to subside, the group prepared to part ways, setting out once more.

"Speaking of which, Frieren," Kraft said, seated on a wooden stump at the edge of the forest as he carved a wooden pendant in the shape of the goddess. He glanced at her as she passed by. "You're different from Ash. You simply don't believe in the goddess, right?"

"...Though that guy is utterly despised by her, it does make me believe in the existence of goddesses a little more," she replied, her tone tinged with sarcasm.

"Haha~ You'd make a good missionary," Kraft chuckled, his gaze shifting toward Ash, who was practicing martial arts by fending off monsters passing through the area.

Ash, overhearing the comment, sighed in exasperation. "I'd rather not have that kind of bizarre function."

"But have you heard about me?" Kraft asked, smiling as he turned his attention back to Frieren.

"No. Should I have? Are you some kind of celebrity? And what does this have to do with believing in goddesses?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Kraft's smile grew faint as he replied, "Not a celebrity, no. I just meant... as elves, no matter how great our deeds or how much justice we accomplish, time will eventually erase us. All who know of our deeds will disappear."

A flicker of loneliness crossed Kraft's face as he spoke, his tone heavy with melancholy.

This peculiar statement made Frieren pause. "Do you think the goddess will remember? Is that why you believe in her?"

"Yes," he said, his voice soft yet firm. "I want to be praised by the goddess in heaven when I die. I want her to say, Well done, Kraft, you've lived a wonderful life. That's my only wish—to have my faith in the goddess acknowledged."

As he spoke, Kraft gently touched the goddess pendant hanging on his chest, his expression filled with quiet anticipation.

His whispered hope lingered in the air before he turned to Frieren, his voice earnest. "It's unbearable to think that no one will remember the path I've walked in life. That's why I believe in the goddess. Without her, I'd feel completely lost."

"Your faith is... unexpectedly utilitarian," Ash interjected, unable to stay silent any longer. His tone carried a hint of disillusionment as he regarded Kraft, the monk whose apparent piety had, until now, seemed unshakable.

As Ash grumbled about the exchange, a memory flickered in his mind. "Now that I think about it, Heiter had similar ideas."

"Ah, true... Heiter once said he wanted to enjoy a life of luxury in heaven and be praised by the goddess," Frieren replied, recalling her old friend. Her mind wandered back to moments at the orphanage Heiter sponsored, and she couldn't help but laugh. "That drunkard used to sit there, drinking, saying things like, 'The goddess will definitely praise me for being honest and pure.'"

"And what's wrong with that?"

"...You don't think there's anything wrong?" Frieren stared at him, dumbfounded. "You believers in the goddess are truly strange."

"We've all walked a long road to get here, Frieren," Kraft said seriously. Despite his deep faith in the goddess, he wasn't fanatical and maintained an open perspective on belief. "If there were no goddess... I would be lost, and so would he. Facing the inevitable death awaiting us, what else is there to hold onto?"

"...Instead of worrying about what happens after death, why not figure out how to stay alive?" Ash interjected, pinning a monster's hand to the ground before turning his head to them calmly. "Relying on someone else—this is your choice as an elf?"

"You're so young, Ash," Kraft replied with a soft chuckle. "I used to be as fiery as you, but in the end... only the goddess will remember everything."

"I'm not interested in compliments."

"Haha, fair enough. But you're human; you don't have to worry about being forgotten," Kraft remarked before glancing at Frieren. His tone softened. "You're different, Frieren. If you don't trust the goddess' words, then allow me to praise you on her behalf. I will remember your story."

"...We do seem to have the same kind of faith," Frieren said, her thoughts drifting back to a similar conversation with Heiter at the orphanage.

She remembered Heiter's words of praise for her efforts in hiding her magic, and she smiled helplessly, shaking her head. "There's no need. I already have people who will praise me."

"Is that so? Although Ash may be a bit of a troublemaker, it seems you've got a good friend in him," Kraft said with a knowing smile.

"...No, I wasn't talking about him," Frieren replied, glancing briefly at Ash before shaking her head with a light laugh. "But I will admit, this guy praised my magic once a long time ago. And recently, when I wake up early, he's there praising me alongside Fern."

"I really have made some good friends."

Kraft smiled, nodding in agreement. However, he held back other thoughts he wanted to voice.

Even now, can they truly endure the challenges ahead? And when the time comes, will anyone still remember them? These lingering doubts tugged at Kraft, though he refrained from saying them aloud.

The two elves continued discussing the goddess as they gradually made their way back to the small house nearby.

"...Is it really meaningful to place all my hopes on someone I don't even know?" Frieren mused aloud. Her expression shifted slightly, though she quickly dismissed her own thoughts. "Well, even if I wanted to, it's impossible. And I don't need anyone's praise anyway."

Ash, trailing behind them, muttered to himself, "I don't see the point either." With a decisive motion, he kicked the skull of the monster beneath him, sending it rolling like a broken watermelon.

Blood covered him as he watched the pair walking away. His gaze was sharp, yet calm.

For him, the best way to ensure he wasn't forgotten was simple: keep those he cared about alive for as long as possible.

But for humanity as it stood today, achieving immortality wasn't merely a matter of insufficient magical exploration.

Although it was clear that his power wasn't enough, even if it were, it would be useless. Such matters were considered the privileges of the goddess.

Just like holy magic, time magic, and all paths concerning life, these were monopolized by divine authority. According to the scriptures, if heaven truly existed, those souls belonged to the goddess. Wasn't preventing death an act that defied her will?

Because of this, Ash had long resolved to gather the strength to confront the goddess. Using the system, he made wishes and transformed the souls harvested from the battlefield, channeling their essence to push the limits of his own body.

---

After discussing the goddess with Frieren for a while, it was time for Kraft to part ways with the group.

"...I don't think this is farewell forever. Let's meet again in a few hundred years," Kraft said with a calm smile. His gaze lingered on Frieren before he turned and walked away.

Faced with her long-lost fellow elf, Frieren simply nodded, her demeanor exceptionally indifferent.

This reaction made Fern, who had just received the pendant from Kraft and thanked him warmly, sigh in frustration. "You rarely meet a fellow tribesman, Lady Frieren. Could you at least say a few words of farewell?"

"Forget it, Fern," Ash interjected casually, placing his hand on Frieren's head out of habit. He ruffled her hair gently, explaining, "For elves, parting like this is a common occurrence. Unless it involves someone truly important, it's hard for Frieren to feel too much about it."

"Thank you for explaining, Ash," Frieren replied with a slightly annoyed glance. She slapped his hand away and began tidying her hair. "But I've told you countless times to stop touching my hair. Can you please be a little more respectful?"

Fern, intrigued by Ash's explanation, asked curiously, "Is Lady Frieren so cold because she's lived for so long?"

"That's not entirely true," Ash replied matter-of-factly. "There are elves with warm personalities, but it's clear she's one of the difficult ones."

"Perhaps," Fern admitted. "But, Master Ash, it's because you treat Master Frieren so casually that you two have always been at odds, even after knowing each other for so many years."

Ash had only been trying to help, but Fern's remark hit home, causing Frieren to beam with pride. She seemed eager to take the opportunity to mock Ash further.

However, before she could say anything, Fern turned on her. "Of course, Lady Frieren, you're no better! You should work on your personality too!"

"Ah, yes..."

Frieren's smug expression immediately faded into embarrassment.

It was precisely because both Ash and Frieren had difficult personalities that Fern often found herself caught in the middle, exasperated.

As they traveled through the mountains, she took on the role of a stern caregiver, using moments when no one else was around to lecture the two.

Ash and Frieren, well-accustomed to such scoldings, walked silently with their heads down, allowing her reprimands to pass quickly.

They refrained from arguing—not because they agreed entirely but because they knew Fern had a point. Ash, who hoped Fern would continue to grow into a responsible and kind person, saw no reason to debate. Meanwhile, Frieren had grown used to enduring such critiques and took them in stride.