Three months later, the trio finally stood at the edge of Voll Basin. The wind rolled over the wide green expanse, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp soil. They had come thousands of kilometres for this, and the journey showed on their clothes, their boots, and—most of all—the slight slouch in Frieren's shoulders.
Naru was the only one who didn't look tired in the slightest. She still had that same bounce in her step, her two short blonde ponytails flicking with every movement. Eisen stood beside her, arms crossed, surveying the place with a craftsman's calm eye.
Sometimes during the trip, they had raced each other—Eisen's dwarven stamina against Naru's unpredictable, almost reckless speed. And when Frieren had the misfortune of being carried on Naru's back during those contests, she had complained the whole time. The wind in her face. Her hair a mess. And—worst of all—the repeated jolt of Naru's sprint making her pelvis ache like she'd been thrown from a horse. Naru didn't understand why the elf grumbled. "It's faster, 'ttebayo," she would say, like that was the only argument necessary.
Now, at the basin's center, a tree rose—massive, ancient, and gnarled, but strangely beautiful. Its roots had wrapped themselves around a small wooden cabin until it was swallowed whole, the way coral grows over a shipwreck. The structure peeked through in places, like an old secret trying to breathe.
Naru tilted her head, squinting at it. "Naru senses magic spell, 'ttebayo."
Frieren's eyes narrowed slightly, her own mana brushing against the faint traces lingering in the air. "Yes," she said. "This place is protected under a spell. That's why Heiter wanted me to check it out. Without an expert mage, it's not possible to unseal it."
Naru, without hesitation, raised her staff. "Naru could blow it up with a Zoltaraak."
"That'd be stupid," Frieren replied flatly, stepping forward without even glancing back.
Eisen smirked faintly, as if expecting this kind of exchange from them.
Frieren placed one pale hand against the bark. Mana seeped into the wood, winding deep into its core. For a heartbeat, nothing happened—just the rustle of leaves in the wind. Then, like the slow breath of a sleeping giant, the tree began to stir.
The bark trembled, lines of faint gold blooming across its surface. The sound was low and resonant, like the hum of a distant bell. With a slow, deliberate motion, the thick wooden coils began to unfurl. Petals of bark peeled away in layers, bending outward like the bloom of an enormous flower in the sunlight. A shimmer of dust—no, mana—floated from the movement, glimmering in the air like stars caught in a breeze.
The roots shifted and rolled aside, revealing the cabin beneath in full for the first time. Its wooden walls were weathered but intact, a door standing in the center as though it had been waiting for them for a thousand years.
Eisen let out a low whistle. "Not bad."
Naru's blue eyes widened, reflecting the golden light still clinging to the bark. "Whoa…" She crouched down to touch the newly revealed ground, sniffing like she expected to smell flowers.
Frieren glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable, though there was a faint spark in her eyes. "Let's see," she said quietly, "what Flamme has to say after a thousand years."
Naru, still crouched, tilted her head at the cabin. "…Naru bets it's snacks."
Frieren ignored her and stepped forward. Eisen chuckled under his breath and followed.
The cabin smelled faintly of dust and old wood, but it wasn't the decayed, musty kind—more like a library that had been shut for centuries, waiting patiently for its reader to return. The single table inside was bare except for one thing: a thick, weathered book.
Frieren stepped forward, her boots quiet on the old floorboards. Her hand hovered over the cover—then, without warning, the pages began flipping on their own, as though an invisible hand was rifling through them at incredible speed.
Naru's eyes widened. "Ghost?!" she blurted, pointing accusingly at the book.
Frieren's gaze didn't waver. "No. It's magic," she said calmly, her voice carrying that infuriating calmness that made Naru feel like she was the weird one.
The last page settled open with a soft whuff. Frieren picked it up gently, her fingertips tracing the old ink as if she could feel the handwriting itself. "This is really Master's handwriting," she murmured, and for the briefest moment, a flicker of nostalgia crossed her face.
"What does it say?" Eisen asked, leaning in slightly, his voice lower than usual.
Frieren began to read, her tone steady but carrying something warmer beneath the words.
❝I went to the place— the northernmost point of the land, Ende, and reached the place where souls rest. I met some of my dead comrades there and talked with them. It was a phenomenal experience. Frieren, if you're reading this, then come here, to Aureole.❞
She paused, her eyes lingering on the ink, as though reading more than just words. A soft smile ghosted her lips. "Even after all this time, you continue to stun me, Master."
Naru's head snapped toward her. "Ghosts?!" she yelped, taking a small step back. "Frieren-sama is being haunted by ghosts?!"
"No," Frieren said flatly, not even looking at her. "She means the souls of the dead."
Eisen's deep voice rumbled from behind. "Ende… That's where the Demon King's Castle is. The Hero's party—" he glanced between Frieren and the far wall, as if seeing something long gone, "—we went there eighty years ago to defeat him."
Frieren closed the book carefully and slid it into her briefcase. "Looks like it's time for another adventure." She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting Naru's. "What do you say, Naru?"
The blonde horned girl shifted uncomfortably, rubbing her arm. "...Naru doesn't like ghosts."
"You can meet Heiter there," Frieren offered casually.
That made Naru's ears—well, horns—perk a little. "Really?"
"Yes," Frieren added with a small smile. "And Himmel too."
There was a moment where Naru looked away, chewing over the thought, then she gave the tiniest nod. "...Ok, 'ttebayo."