The forest path stretched ahead like a thin brown scar cutting through endless green. Tall trees stood on both sides, their branches tangled high above, forming a loose ceiling that filtered the sunlight into soft patches on the ground. The air smelled damp, like soil that had been turned over recently. Leaves crunched underfoot, though not loudly. The place had a strange quiet to it, the kind that made even small sounds feel like they carried too far.
Subaru walked ahead, one hand lightly holding the edge of her turban, making sure it stayed in place. The cloth wrapped around her head had become something she checked every few minutes without thinking. The horns underneath were not something she wanted anyone to see.
Behind her, or rather beside her, since Übel had decided that personal space was more of a suggestion than a rule, walked the green-haired mage with a casual bounce in her steps.
"So," Übel said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at the path ahead, "have you ever been here before?"
Subaru did not even need to think about the answer. "No."
Her reply came out simple, flat, controlled. Inside her head, though, things were less simple.
Of course I have not been here before. I have not been anywhere before. Two days ago I was in my room. My room. With walls. And a bed. And normal food that did not feel like chewing on cardboard. She kept her eyes forward.
Übel hummed. "Me neither," she said. "First time."
She stepped over a fallen branch with ease, her boots making almost no sound. "But I have heard things about this place."
Subaru felt a small knot tighten in her stomach.
Of course you have. She did not look back. "What kind of things?"
Übel smiled. The kind of smile that always made Subaru feel like she had just stepped into a conversation she did not want to be part of.
"They say this area is famous," Übel said, stretching her arms lazily as she walked, "for having very large birds."
Subaru blinked. "Birds?"
"Very large birds," Übel repeated, as if that somehow clarified everything.
Subaru frowned slightly. Okay. Big birds. Sure. That sounds fine. Then her brain decided to add more details on its own. Claws. Beaks. Wings. Big. Very big. "How large?" Subaru asked slowly.
Übel tapped her chin, pretending to think. "Big enough to pick up a person, I guess."
Subaru stopped walking. "What?"
Übel turned to look at her, smiling like she had just said something mildly interesting instead of completely horrifying. "They are also known to be a bit," she paused, searching for the right word, "homicidal."
Subaru stared at her. There was a long pause.
"I am sorry," Subaru said carefully, "did you just say homicidal birds?"
"Yes."
Subaru blinked again. She tried to process that. Birds. That kill people. Casually. In a forest. That I am currently walking through. With no map. No plan. And a girl who smiles when talking about it. "Is that dangerous?" Subaru asked.
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt stupid. Of course it is dangerous. Why did I ask that like it is a maybe?
Übel looked at her like she had just asked if water was wet. "Of course it is dangerous," Übel said, then her smile widened, "but that is what makes it interesting. Plus, you're a monster yourself,"
Subaru's eye twitched slightly. Interesting. Right. Because almost getting eaten by a flying monster is a fun afternoon activity.
Übel stretched her neck a little, as if imagining something. "I wonder how they taste."
Subaru slowly turned her head to look at her. "What?"
"I said I wonder how they taste," Übel repeated casually. "If they attack us, I would like to try eating one."
Subaru stopped again. She stared. She searched Übel's face for any sign of humor. A twitch. A smirk. Anything. Nothing. She is serious. Of course she is. Why would she not be serious about eating giant murder birds? Subaru looked away, her expression flattening into something between disbelief and quiet suffering.
"Let us not mess with them," she said.
Her tone carried a strange mix of caution and exhaustion.
Übel shrugged. "I am not planning to," she said. "I am just saying, if they attack us."
Subaru narrowed her eyes slightly. There was something off about that sentence. "I am just saying." That sounded harmless. But coming from Übel, it felt like a lie that had not realized it was a lie yet.
Subaru resumed walking, her steps a bit quicker now. "I am serious," she added. "We avoid them. No fighting. No tasting."
"For a demon," Übel laughed softly, "you are no fun."
"It keeps me alive," Subaru replied.
"That is temporary," Übel said cheerfully. "What if someone kills you?"
Subaru froze mid-step. "Can you not say things like that?"
Übel tilted her head. "Why?"
Because I have died more times than I want to count and I do not want to hear about it like it is a joke. But she did not say that. Instead, she sighed. "Just do not."
Übel studied her for a moment, then smiled again. "Alright."
They walked in silence for a bit after that. The forest felt different now. Every rustle of leaves made Subaru's shoulders tense. Every shadow between the trees looked a little too deep. She found herself glancing upward more often than before. The branches above swayed gently with the wind. Nothing moved between them. No massive wings or giant silhouettes. Still, her grip on reality felt thin.
This world had already shown her enough to know that ridiculous meant nothing here. Flying. Dying. Coming back. Magic that made no sense. A girl who cuts things because she can imagine cutting them. And now birds that hunt people. Sure. Why not.
Subaru let out a quiet breath.
"Hey," Übel said suddenly.
Subaru did not look at her. "What?"
"Why are you so nervous?" Übel asked.
Subaru's steps slowed slightly. "That is a strange question."
"Not really," Übel said. "You are strong. You can create things with mana. You have that weird magic. But you act like everything might kill you."
Subaru's lips pressed into a thin line. Because everything does kill me. Again. And again. And again. She looked ahead. "I just do not feel very comfortable," she said. "I am a demon who is like a human, you know."
Übel hummed. "That sounds boring."
Boring. If only you knew. If only you knew how exciting dying feels when it keeps happening. "I will take boring," Subaru said.
Übel did not argue. She just watched her for a moment longer, then looked ahead again. The path curved slightly, leading them deeper into the forest. The air grew thicker, the trees closer together. Sunlight struggled to reach the ground now, leaving the trail in a soft gray shade. The quiet had changed too. It was not the peaceful kind anymore. It was the kind that made Subaru's skin prickle.
She slowed her pace and let her hand drop from her turban to her side. Her fingers curled loosely, ready to summon something if needed. Übel noticed but did not say anything. She just kept walking, her steps still light, her expression still calm.
───✧───
The cabin creaked every now and then like it had opinions about the people inside it and was not afraid to express them. The wooden walls were thick, built to survive winters that could freeze a grown man into a decorative statue. A small fire crackled in the fireplace, doing its best to fight the cold that pressed from all sides like an uninvited guest who refused to leave.
Inside, the atmosphere was quiet. Not peaceful quiet. The kind of quiet where everyone was thinking too much.
Sein sat beside the bed where Stark lay unconscious. The red-haired boy looked far worse than he had any right to. His breathing came unevenly, like his body had forgotten the proper rhythm and was now trying to guess it each time. His skin looked pale against the rough blanket covering him. Sein leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked on Stark's face. He had been doing that for a while. Every small movement. Every twitch. Every shallow breath. He noticed all of it. At this point, if Stark sneezed in his sleep, Sein would probably write a report about it.
"You are still alive," Sein muttered quietly, almost like he was reminding the boy. "Good. Keep doing that." He reached out and adjusted the blanket again, even though it did not really need adjusting.
Across the room, Kraft sat cross-legged on the wooden floor. Eyes closed. Back straight. Hands resting calmly on his knees. He looked like a statue that had decided to take a break from being stone and try meditation instead. He had not moved in a while. Not even a little. If someone had placed a cup of tea on his head, it probably would not have spilled.
Fern stood near the window, arms folded, her gaze drifting between Stark and Kraft. Her expression was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that came from holding back a lot of thoughts at once.
Finally, she spoke. "Why are we here?"
No one answered immediately. Sein glanced at her briefly, then looked back at Stark. Kraft did not even blink. He remained perfectly still.
Fern's eyes shifted toward him. "You brought us here," she continued, her tone polite but firm. "So you must have a reason."
Still nothing. Kraft did not respond. He did not move. He did not even breathe loudly.
Fern stared at him. "Did he fall asleep?"
Sein shook his head. "No. I think that is just how he is."
Fern narrowed her eyes slightly. "That is unsettling."
From the other side of the room, Frieren sat on a wooden chair, her staff resting beside her. She looked relaxed, almost like she was waiting for a bus that might arrive sometime next week. She spoke without looking up. "I think I know what he is planning."
Fern turned to her immediately. "You do?"
Frieren nodded slightly. "I am almost certain."
Fern took a step closer. "Then what is it?"
Frieren paused for a moment, as if arranging her thoughts. "This village," she said slowly, "is the place where Himmel claimed the Hero's Sword."
Fern blinked. "Yes, I know that part." She crossed her arms. "But that still does not explain why we are here now."
Frieren continued. "That is what most people believe."
Fern frowned. "Most people?"
Frieren did not answer immediately. Instead, she looked toward Kraft. Still meditating. Still completely ignoring the conversation.
Fern followed her gaze. "Are you going to keep pretending he is not here?"
Frieren tilted her head slightly. "He is listening."
Fern looked back at Kraft. "Then why is not he answering?"
"Because he wants to finish his meditation first."
Fern stared. "That is extremely inconvenient."
Sein nodded in agreement. "Very."
The fire crackled. The cabin creaked again.
Then, without warning, Kraft opened his eyes. No dramatic movement. No buildup. Just open. Like someone had flipped a switch.
"The sun is high," he said calmly.
Fern blinked. "That is your response?"
Kraft stood up in one smooth motion, stretching his arms slightly. "The blizzard has weakened for now," he continued. "This is the best time to move."
Sein immediately straightened. "You mean now?"
"Yes."
Kraft walked toward the bed where Stark lay. Sein quickly stood up and stepped in front of him. "I will carry him," he said.
Kraft paused. He looked at Sein for a moment. Then he nodded. "As you wish."
Sein carefully lifted Stark, adjusting his position so the boy rested securely against his back. Stark did not react. Not even a little. Sein swallowed quietly. "Hang in there," he muttered.
Fern grabbed her staff and moved toward the door. Frieren stood up slowly, picking up her staff as well.
Without another word, she walked to the entrance and pushed the door open. Cold air rushed inside immediately, sharp and biting. Snow still covered the ground, though the storm had calmed for now. The sky above was pale, with thin clouds drifting lazily.
The group stepped outside. The cold hit them all at once. Sein tightened his grip on Stark. Fern adjusted her cloak. Kraft simply walked forward like the temperature was a suggestion. Frieren stepped out last. The door creaked shut behind them.
They had barely taken a few steps when a voice cut through the quiet.
"You have got to tell me what you are plotting!"
The group turned. Standing a short distance away was the young cheftess. Her arms were crossed. Her expression was serious. Very serious. For someone her size, she managed to look surprisingly intimidating.
Fern blinked. "She is back."
Sein whispered quietly. "I think she never left."
The girl marched toward them, her boots crunching against the snow. She stopped right in front of Kraft and looked up at him. "I heard enough," she said. "You are planning something."
Kraft looked down at her calmly. "Yes."
"And you are not going to explain it?"
"Not in detail."
The girl's eye twitched slightly. "That is not a satisfying answer. I want to come!"
Kraft shrugged lightly. "You want to come with us?"
There was a brief pause. Fern looked at him. "You are inviting her?"
"Not really," Kraft shook his head. "The weather is not ideal," he added. "It might be dangerous."
The girl scoffed. "I grew up here." She pointed at the snowy landscape around them. "This is nothing."
Sein leaned slightly toward Fern. "She does have a point."
Fern sighed softly.
Frieren watched the exchange quietly. Her expression did not change much, but there was something in the way her eyes followed the girl, something that suggested she was not entirely surprised by any of this.
The girl stepped forward again, her small figure full of determination. "I am coming," she said.
Kraft nodded once. "Very well."
───✧───
The forest had been quiet for a while. Too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet where birds chirped and leaves rustled gently like they were having a calm conversation. This was the kind where everything seemed to hold its breath. Even the wind felt like it was moving slower, as if it did not want to disturb something lurking nearby.
Subaru walked with a steady pace, though her eyes kept shifting. Left. Right. Up. Always up. Ever since Übel had mentioned those birds, her brain had refused to let it go. Every shadow above felt suspicious. Every branch looked like it might suddenly sprout wings and decide to ruin her day.
Beside her, Übel walked like she was on a casual stroll through a park that did not have a single murderous creature in it.
"So," Übel said, swinging her arms lightly, "if we actually find one, can I keep a feather?"
Subaru did not even look at her. "No."
"Just one?"
"No."
"Half?"
Subaru stopped walking. She turned slowly. "What are you planning to do with a feather from a bird that wants to eat us?"
Übel smiled. "I do not know yet."
"That is worse."
Übel laughed. Subaru sighed and turned forward again. "Let us just not find one," she muttered.
That was when it happened.
A sharp sensation ran through her body. Not pain. Not exactly fear either. More like a sudden alarm bell ringing inside her bones. Her entire body froze mid-step.
Übel reacted immediately. She did not ask what was wrong. She did not hesitate. She simply reacted. Her staff appeared in her hand like it had been waiting for permission. In the same motion, she twisted her body and swung it toward Subaru with full force.
From Subaru's point of view, it looked like betrayal. Absolute betrayal. Her eyes widened. "Oh, come on, not again."
Her instincts kicked in before her thoughts could catch up. She dropped low, a sharp duck at the last possible moment. The air above her head split with a violent sound. Something huge crashed into the invisible force that Übel had just released. A massive shape was sent flying backward, feathers scattering like a storm of knives.
Subaru skidded across the ground, boots digging into dirt as she forced herself to stop. She crouched, one hand pressed against the ground for balance, breathing quick and sharp. "Are these the birds you were talking about?" she asked, not even looking back yet.
"Yeah!" Übel replied brightly. "They are bigger than I thought!"
Subaru slowly lifted her head. And then she saw it.
The bird. If it could even be called a bird. It was enormous. Easily larger than anything she had ever seen in her old world. Her brain tried to compare it to something familiar. Elephant. Yeah. About that size. Wait. Does this world even have elephants? Why am I thinking about elephants right now?
The creature let out a harsh cry, its wings spreading wide. The feathers were dark, almost metallic in sheen, each one sharp enough to look like it could slice skin open if you touched it wrong. Its eyes locked onto Subaru. Predatory. Focused. Hungry.
"Nope," Subaru whispered. "Nope, nope, nope."
More movement above. She looked up. There was not just one. There were several. Circling. Watching. Waiting for an opening.
Of course there are more. Why would there be just one? That would be too easy.
Subaru exhaled sharply. "Okay," she muttered to herself. "Think. Think. Think."
Her hand lifted slightly. Mana stirred. Erfassen. She needed something. Something fast. Something that could deal with flying targets.
Her mind raced through options. Swords. No. Too close range. Spears. Maybe. But still not ideal. Guns? Not sure how they worked properly.
And then a memory surfaced. A figure in a red coat. A calm expression. A bow. "Got it."
Mana gathered in her hand, shaping itself into something unfamiliar to this world. A bow appeared. Black. Sleek. Not carved from wood. Not forged from metal in the traditional sense. It looked constructed, layered, as if multiple shapes had been pressed together into one form. The limbs curved in a way that felt unnatural yet perfect. Lines of faint red traced along its body like veins carrying energy.
Subaru grabbed it instinctively. "Whoa."
It felt right. Like her hands already knew what to do.
She reached back. An arrow formed, not from a quiver but from mana. A long, black shaft with a sharp, almost glowing tip.
Übel was already moving. She swung her staff again, sending another invisible slash upward. One of the birds twisted mid-air, barely avoiding it. Another dove down toward them. Fast. Very fast.
"Subaru." Übel started to say something.
Subaru did not wait. She drew the bow. Pulled the string. Released.
The arrow vanished. No travel time. No visible path. One moment it was there. The next, the diving bird dropped from the sky like its strings had been cut. A clean hit. No hesitation. No resistance. The creature crashed into the ground with a heavy thud.
Übel blinked. "Oh."
Subaru was already moving. Another arrow formed. She drew. Released. Another bird fell. And another. And another.
Her hands moved quickly, almost too quickly. Draw. Release. Draw. Release. Each arrow appeared and disappeared in a blink. Each target dropped without a chance to react.
Übel watched for a second. Then she grinned. "That is new." She jumped forward, swinging her staff again. A wide slash cut through the air. One of the birds that had been trying to flank them split cleanly and dropped.
Subaru did not stop. Her focus locked in. Her breathing steadied. Everything else faded. No fear. No hesitation. Just movement. The bow hummed softly in her hands. Each arrow felt natural, like she had done this a thousand times before.
Übel noticed something. Between shots, Subaru was not forming a new bow. The same one stayed in her hand, stable, consistent. But the arrows vanished after impact, completely, with no trace left behind.
"Interesting," Übel muttered.
Another bird dove. Too fast. Subaru turned, but her timing was slightly off.
Übel stepped in. Her staff moved. A sharp slash. The bird split mid-air and fell. "Do not get lazy," Übel said casually.
"I am not lazy!" Subaru snapped, already drawing another arrow.
The battle continued. Fast. Relentless. The forest, once quiet, now echoed with crashes and sharp cries. Feathers fell. Bodies dropped. Subaru's arrows kept flying, invisible paths, instant impact. Übel's slashes cut through anything that got too close. Between the two of them, the sky began to clear.
One by one, the birds fell. The ground soon looked like a battlefield of oversized feathers and very unfortunate wildlife.
Finally. Silence.
Subaru lowered the bow slightly. Her chest rose and fell. "Is that all of them?" she asked.
Übel looked up, scanning the sky. No movement. No shadows circling. "Looks like it," she said.
Subaru exhaled. The bow in her hand flickered. Then vanished.
Übel whistled. "I didn't know you were an archer too."
"Sometimes," Subaru struck a smug pose. "The archer class is indeed made of archers,"
Übel stared at her. "What?"
Around them, the massive bird corpses lay still, their wings spread awkwardly across the ground. The danger had passed. For now.
The birds were all down.
───✧───
As they reached the place, Fern and Sein were not sure where they were. The landscape had become a stretch of white hills and frozen valleys that all looked the same after hours of walking. They had followed Kraft without question, trusting that he knew the way, though Sein had started to wonder if the elf was simply walking in a straight line and calling it a destination.
Kraft stopped atop a low hill. The wind pushed against his cloak, but he stood steady, looking down at something below. "We are here," he said.
The cheftess stood beside him, her small frame nearly swallowed by the thick coat she wore. She peered down the slope. "So you really were coming here."
Fern and Sein moved closer, their boots crunching against the frozen ground. Below them, the hill dropped into a shallow valley. At the bottom, a cave mouth gaped open, dark against the white snow that covered everything else. The entrance was wide, tall enough for two people to walk through side by side, and it seemed to sink into the earth like a mouth waiting to swallow something.
In front of the cave, a pack of wolves moved in restless circles. Their fur was white, blending almost perfectly with the snow, and their breath came out in clouds of steam. They barked and growled, their bodies tense, but none of them stepped into the cave. They moved around the entrance like something was holding them back.
Sein frowned. Something pressed against his senses, a weight in the air that made his skin prickle. He closed his eyes for a moment, reaching out with the awareness he had trained for years. When he opened them again, his expression had shifted. "I can feel an extraordinary amount of divine mana emanating from that cave," he said. "It is strong. Very strong. Like standing near something that should not be disturbed."
"That is correct," Kraft said.
Before anyone could ask another question, Kraft stepped forward. He did not walk down the slope. He simply dropped.
His body fell from the hill, boots hitting the snow below with a force that sent white powder exploding outward. The wolves turned instantly, their heads snapping toward the sudden noise. They did not hesitate. They lunged.
Kraft moved.
His fist drove into the first wolf's chest before it could close its jaws. The impact lifted the creature off its feet and sent it flying backward into a snowdrift. It did not get up. Another wolf came from his left, teeth bared. Kraft caught it by the throat mid leap, his hand closing around its neck, and slammed it into the ground so hard the snow cracked beneath it.
The third wolf tried to circle around him. Kraft spun, his leg sweeping out in an arc that caught the animal across the ribs. It tumbled sideways, rolling twice before coming to a stop against a rock. Its side rose and fell, but it did not move again.
The remaining wolves hesitated. They had been hunting these lands longer than most creatures, and they understood danger. But instinct pushed them forward. Two lunged together, one high, one low. Kraft dropped into a crouch, letting the first wolf pass over him, then shot upward, his shoulder driving into the second wolf's belly. The creature let out a sharp yelp as it was thrown into the air. Before it landed, Kraft was already moving, his hand catching the first wolf by the tail and swinging it like a weight into the other.
They crashed together and lay still.
From the hill above, Frieren watched for a moment. Then she raised her staff. A beam of pale light shot from its tip, thin and precise, cutting through the air toward the wolves that had begun to retreat. One of them fell. Another stumbled, a line of frost spreading across its side. She fired again, and again, each bolt finding its mark.
The wolves scattered, but not fast enough. Frieren moved her staff in a slow arc, and a wall of ice rose from the snow, blocking their escape. They turned, confused, snapping at the air, and Kraft was already among them, his fists and feet moving with a speed that did not seem possible for someone his size. Bone cracked. Snow sprayed. The sounds of the fight echoed across the valley, sharp and brief.
Within moments, the wolves were down.
Fern stayed close to Sein and the cheftess, her staff raised not for attack but for warmth. A soft glow emanated from its tip, spreading outward in gentle waves that pushed back the cold. The cheftess stood near Stark, who remained unconscious on Sein's back, his breathing shallow but steady. She watched the fight below with wide eyes, her hands tucked into her sleeves.
"He is a monk?" she asked.
"He is a monk," Fern confirmed.
"I thought monks were peaceful."
Fern did not answer.
Below, Kraft straightened and brushed the snow from his sleeves. He looked around at the wolves lying still in the white, then up at the hill. "The place is cleared," he called. His voice carried easily across the distance.
Sein started down the slope, careful with each step, one hand supporting Stark's weight. Fern followed, the cheftess close behind her. Frieren came last, her staff resting against her shoulder, her expression calm.
When they reached the cave entrance, Sein stopped. He looked at the dark opening, then at Kraft. "Alright," he said, his breath fogging in the cold air. "Enough mysteries. Tell us what this is about."
He turned to face Kraft fully, expecting an answer, some explanation for why they had walked through a blizzard, why they had followed an elf they barely knew, why Stark was not being taken to the Capital of Magic but in front of a cave that pulsed with mana so strong it made him baffle.
Then he looked inside.
The cave was not deep. The light from outside reached far enough to illuminate most of it, casting the walls in shades of gray and white. The floor was stone, worn smooth by time. And at the center, resting on a pedestal of natural rock, stood a stone.
No, not just a stone. A stone with a sword stuck in it. The blade was long and straight, its edge catching the faint light with a gleam that seemed too bright for something that should have been sitting in a cave for decades. The hilt was simple, unadorned, wrapped in leather that had not rotted or faded. It rested in the stone like it had been placed there yesterday.
Sein's words died in his throat.
The Hero's Sword.
He knew it. Not because he had seen it before. No one alive had seen it before, not really. But the stories were everywhere. The songs. The paintings. Every child in every village had heard the tale of Himmel and his companions, of the sword that chose the hero, of the blade that was pulled from its resting place to defeat the Demon King. Sein had grown up with those stories. He had heard them a hundred times, a thousand times.
And here it was. Still in the stone.
"Frieren-sama," Fern said, her voice low, almost a whisper. She stood beside Sein, her eyes fixed on the sword. "Why is the Hero's Sword still here? Did not Himmel-sama already claim it eighty years ago?"