It was nearing evening when Frieren and Fern finally reached the outskirts of Alt Woods Village. The sun hung low in the sky, its light filtered through layers of clouds and tall trees, casting long shadows across the dirt road. The air carried the scent of damp earth and wood smoke, the kind that clung quietly to the senses without demanding attention. It was peaceful in a way that felt almost inappropriate after what they had been through.
They did not have to carry Stark themselves.
Graf Garant, perhaps out of guilt or gratitude or both, had lent them two knights. The men walked ahead and behind with practiced steadiness, each supporting Stark's weight with care. Even so, the boy's condition was obvious. His face was pale, lips drawn tight, breath shallow and uneven. Every step sent a faint tremor through his body, and occasionally a sharp sound escaped him before he could stop it.
Frieren walked beside him, eyes fixed forward, expression calm in a way that felt almost wrong. Internally, her thoughts were anything but.
A demon.
Young, far too young by her standards. A hundred years or less, perhaps. That alone would not have mattered if her mana had been overwhelming, if it had pressed down on the world the way powerful demons often did. But it had not. Her presence had been ordinary. Almost dull.
And yet Stark lay like this.
Frieren replayed the words of Stark again and again. The mana. The strange wounds. The way it cut through flesh as if the rules had briefly loosened their grip. It did not feel like raw power. It felt precise. Focused. Crafted.
It had to be the weapon.
That realization unsettled her more than she liked to admit. Tools that could bridge gaps were rare. Tools in the hands of someone so young were worse. The world had not grown safer with time. It had only grown quieter.
Fern followed close behind, hands clasped at her chest, steps careful and measured. Her eyes kept drifting to Stark despite her efforts to look composed. This was her first time facing something like this. Not a simple injury. Not exhaustion. Not poison she recognized. This was damage caused by something she did not fully understand, and the uncertainty showed in the tension of her shoulders.
She trusted Frieren completely, but even trust had limits when confronted with the unknown.
The village came into view slowly. Wooden houses clustered together near the treeline, roofs sloped and worn, smoke rising gently from chimneys. A narrow road led inward, lined with fences and small lanterns that had just begun to glow. It was not a large place. Modest, quiet, and unassuming.
Alt Woods.
The knights slowed as they crossed into the village proper. A few villagers glanced up from their work. Some paused. Others stared openly at the sight of an injured warrior being carried through their streets. Whispers spread, soft and cautious, but no one interfered.
"We were told about a priest," Fern said quietly, breaking the silence. "Someone skilled."
"Yes," Frieren replied. "A man named Sein."
Her voice was steady, but her eyes scanned the surroundings carefully. Villages like this could be kind. They could also be wary. Outsiders brought trouble as often as they brought coin.
They stopped near the center of the village, where the road widened slightly and several paths branched off. The knights shifted Stark gently, adjusting their grip as he winced.
Frieren approached the nearest villager, an older woman carrying a basket of herbs. "Excuse me," she said. "We are looking for a priest. Sein."
The woman studied them for a moment, gaze lingering on Stark's injuries. Her expression softened. "The church," she said, pointing with her chin. "North end. You will find him or his brother there."
"Thank you," Frieren said.
They moved on, asking once more to be certain. The answer was the same each time. The church stood a little apart from the rest of the village, modest in size, its wooden walls darkened by age and weather. A simple symbol was carved above the entrance, worn smooth by time.
As they approached, Fern felt a strange tightness in her chest. Churches had always carried weight for her. Not fear, exactly, but expectation. Places where people came when they had nowhere else to turn.
The doors were closed.
Frieren reached out and pushed them open without hesitation. The hinges creaked softly, the sound echoing into the quiet interior. The air inside was warm, carrying the faint scent of incense and old wood. Lanterns hung along the walls, their light steady and calm.
"Anyone around?" Frieren called, her voice echoing gently.
For a few seconds, there was no response.
The knights stepped inside carefully and lowered Stark onto a long wooden bench near the wall. He gasped softly as his body settled, fingers curling weakly into the fabric of his clothes. Fern knelt beside him at once, murmuring reassurances even though she knew he might not fully hear her.
Then came footsteps.
They were unhurried, measured, approaching from deeper within the church. A moment later, a man emerged from a side passage. He was middle aged, with tired eyes and hair beginning to gray at the temples. His priestly attire was simple, practical rather than ceremonial.
His gaze went first to Stark.
The change in his expression was immediate.
"We are looking for Sein," Frieren said, stepping forward. "Our companion is critically injured and needs medical attention."
The man seemed to feel the urgency and did not hesitate. "Sein is my brother," he said quickly. "Give me a moment and I shall summon him. Meanwhile, please lay him down."
───✧───
The night had swallowed the world whole by the time Subaru realized just how far she had gone.
There was no moon. No stars. Only a thick blanket of clouds that pressed low against the sky, turning everything into layered shades of black and muted gray. Even the horizon was gone, erased by distance and darkness. If she had still been human, she would have been exhausted, trembling, desperate for rest after walking so far.
Eighty kilometers. At least.
She knew that not by a map or marker, but by a strange internal sense that had grown sharper since her arrival in this body. Distance, direction, mana flow. Things she never learned, yet now understood without knowing how. Her legs should have burned. Her lungs should have begged for air.
Instead, she felt… fine.
Not refreshed. Not energized. Just unchanged, as if the march had been nothing more than a stroll through a park back home. That realization unsettled her more than fatigue ever could. It reminded her again that this body was not human. That whatever laws governed her old life no longer applied.
The wind picked up without warning.
At first it was a low whisper that tugged at her clothes and slipped through the grass like something alive. Then it grew teeth, sharp and cold, biting through the thin fabric of her dress. Subaru pulled her arms closer to herself and adjusted the cloth wrapped around her head, tightening it instinctively.
A few minutes later, the drizzle began.
Thin drops fell, scattered and light at first, barely enough to matter. Then they multiplied, dotting her sleeves, darkening the ground beneath her feet. The smell of wet earth rose quickly, rich and heavy. Subaru stopped walking and looked up at the sky, though there was nothing to see.
"Great," she muttered.
She focused, reaching inward, to that strange place where thoughts turned into form. Erfassen answered immediately. Mana stirred, obedient, familiar now. In moments, an umbrella took shape in her hand. Simple, dark, functional. It felt solid, real.
Too easy.
She opened it and continued forward, scanning her surroundings more carefully now. Rain in a forest was not just uncomfortable. It was dangerous. Slippery ground, hidden roots, poor visibility. And she had no shelter, no supplies, no plan beyond putting distance between herself and the place she had died again and again.
The forest thickened as she went on. Tall trees crowded together, their branches forming a tangled ceiling that trapped the sound of rain. The ground sloped unevenly, rising and falling in gentle but constant waves. She cursed herself quietly for not thinking ahead back in the village.
I could have bought something. A cloak. A bedroll. Anything.
She could try to make those things with Erfassen. She was not fully sure if she could really do that. Even if she could, creating large objects or anything too complex felt like lighting a beacon in the dark. Mana did not exist in isolation. Others could sense it. She had learned that lesson the hard way when that light beam had disintegrated her yesterday.
So she walked on, rain tapping steadily against the umbrella, boots sinking into damp earth. Her thoughts drifted, unanchored, circling the same questions without answers. Why this body. Why this power. Why that boy. Why the loops.
Why her.
She almost missed it.
A shadow at the base of a hill, darker than the darkness around it. Subaru slowed, squinting, then stepped closer. The hill rose sharply from the forest floor, its side scarred with rock and sparse vegetation. At its base was an opening.
A cave.
Relief hit her so fast it almost felt like laughter bubbling up in her chest. She did not hesitate. Folding the umbrella away, she slipped inside, boots crunching lightly over gravel and stone.
The air inside was dry.
That alone felt like a miracle. The cave was shallow but wide enough to offer real shelter. The walls were rough and cold to the touch, marked by natural grooves and faint mineral streaks. No bones. No nests. No signs of recent habitation.
If there were bears here, she did not care.
Two days ago, the thought would have terrified her. Now it barely registered. Death had a way of recalibrating fear.
She moved deeper into the cave, far enough that the rain became a distant sound rather than a constant assault. She leaned her back against the stone wall and exhaled slowly, letting herself relax for the first time since night fell.
At least until a voice spoke.
"Well, well, well."
Subaru froze.
Every muscle in her body locked at once, as if someone had flipped a switch. Her heart did not race. Her breath did not hitch. Instead, a cold clarity settled over her mind, sharp and immediate.
"Looks like I am not all alone tonight."
The voice came from behind her.
Slowly, carefully, Subaru turned her head.
A girl sat against the far wall of the cave, legs bent, posture casual as if she had been there for hours. She wore a black dress that clung to her frame without restricting movement, paired with sturdy black boots marked by wear. Her hair was green, cut short, pulled back into a loose ponytail that brushed her neck. Her eyes were purple, bright even in the dim light, watching Subaru with open interest.
She smiled.
"That's a nice headwear there."
Subaru said nothing.
Her mind worked furiously, cataloging details. No visible weapon, though that meant nothing. Mana presence was good, though slightly depleted, like a blade held just out of sight. Not a villager. Not a traveler. Something else.
A mage.
Danger.
The girl tilted her head slightly, unfazed by the silence. "My name is Übel. What's yours?"