Frieren: Demon of Domination

Moonlight after dinner filtered through the windows, casting mottled shadows on the ancient study's floor.

The Hero of the South, summoned by his teacher, pushed open the study's aged but sturdy door—

Having some speculation about why his disciple hadn't killed that worthless Grand Demon,

Agusheed, who had called him over after dinner, stood with his back to his silly disciple.

He stood by the window, pale fingers gently tracing the fingerprints she had left on the window frame.

"So she shouldn't die, is that right?"

"At least in the future you've seen, she doesn't die here, nor will she die in battle with you—"

Agusheed turned around, his gray eyes gleaming faintly in the shadows cast by the study's lamplight.

"Is that so?"

The Hero of the South skillfully stepped forward and sat in Agusheed's armchair.

After brewing himself a cup of red tea from Agusheed's six-hundred-year collection,

He rubbed the rim of the teacup and responded to Agusheed's inquiry.

"Teacher, your intuition is as sharp as ever."

He nodded slightly, tiny ripples forming in the red tea.

Interesting—

Such worthless trash could actually survive in the normal timeline?

Agusheed walked slowly toward the bookshelf, his black robe brushing against the ancient carpet.

He pulled out a thick tome but didn't open it, just letting the pages slip through his fingers.

"In the future you've seen, without my interference, what is that worthless Grand Demon's fate?"

His voice was as calm as if discussing a pet's life and death.

The Hero of the South placed his teacup back on the table, the metal saucer making a crisp collision sound.

He folded his hands on his knees, his gaze following his teacher's figure.

"According to the normal future trajectory, two years ago she would have survived her battle with me."

The wood in the fireplace made soft crackling sounds, sparks flying.

"And now she should be fighting Frieren's hero party at Count Granat's Territory."

"Then she'd be left with nearly fatal injuries by that junior hero and flee far away."

Fighting the party that Frieren is in...

Fleeing?

Junior hero—

Is that Himmel mentioned in the letter?

Agusheed placed the book back in its place, his fingertip lingering on the spine for a moment.

"And then?"

His voice remained calm, yet carried a barely perceptible hesitation.

Of course the Hero of the South noticed this hesitation.

Without thinking, he knew this was the old father worrying about whether that worthless Grand Demon would cause trouble for his little daughter.

The Hero of the South looked out the window, his exhaled breath dissipating in the cold air of the early spring night.

"Then she'll reappear nearly a hundred years later."

"Finally eliminated by Frieren together with her young disciple."

Agusheed's finger suddenly stopped mid-air, the sleeve of his black robe trembling slightly.

"Frieren's disciple?"

Not caring about that worthless Grand Demon's eventual death,

Agusheed focused on another phrase in the Hero of the South's words.

He turned around, moonlight illuminating his tightly furrowed brow.

Frieren... will take a disciple?

A gentle smile appeared at the corner of the Hero of the South's mouth, the lines around his eyes relaxing.

"Called Fern, a very cute little girl."

He touched the short stubble on his chin and continued.

"Mm... I think she'll probably be quite close to you..."

"Utterly boring."

Agusheed lowered his eyes and slowly walked toward the chair by the fireplace where Flamme used to sit.

He sat down slowly, his slender fingers interlaced on his knees.

The room fell into brief silence, only the crackling of burning wood echoing.

Utterly boring—

Is that really so?

The Hero of the South gazed at the dancing flames, his expression gradually becoming serious.

Although he was a problem student, Agusheed was equally a problem teacher.

Turning a blind eye to the beauty and happiness before him...

Yet letting himself live forever in false memories composed of dreams and longing.

Teacher—

Why must you make yourself live in such pain?

"Teacher, sometimes I also quietly think about a question—"

The Hero of the South broke the silence in the study after a long pause.

His voice was low and gentle,

Like telling a fabricated story rather than inquiring of the person before him.

"Teacher..."

"Why does someone like you insist on living in dreams and memories?"

Living in...

Dreams and memories...

Under the Hero of the South's gaze, Agusheed's fingertips lightly tapped his hand.

The rhythm like their equally slow heartbeats.

"Teacher..."

"And why must you pursue that hopeless magic that can bring the dead back to life?"

Hopeless...

Magic that can bring the dead back to life—

Agusheed turned sideways and slowly closed his eyes.

But the Hero of the South lifted his head straight up,

His gaze falling on his teacher's emotionless profile.

"You're aware yourself, aren't you? After regaining emotions, you've become even more painful than when you had no emotions."

A cold wind accompanied his silly disciple's soft words, sweeping past the window frame with a whimpering sound.

"Why must you remain in the past, standing still at the starting point from a thousand years ago?"

The Hero of the South's voice grew lighter and lighter, almost merging with the fireplace's crackling.

"I think, even your wife, that Grand Mage Flamme in Aureole—"

"Would never want to see you immersed in regret and self-blame..."

Regret...

Self-blame?

Agusheed suddenly opened his eyes and chuckled softly, his laughter carrying a hint of mockery.

"Regret, self-blame?"

"Is that what you've always thought?"

The flames in the fireplace illuminated Agusheed's gradually calming face.

He shook his head indifferently, his black hair showing dull luster in the firelight.

"Truly a silly disciple..."

"Claiming to understand me best, yet not seeing as clearly as Frieren, who hasn't met me once in hundreds of years."

Agusheed's words made the Hero of the South frown slightly.

He who considered himself the most understanding of Agusheed aside from Flamme and Schlacht was receiving his teacher's denial for the first time.

He murmured softly in thought—

"You mean..."

Agusheed gazed at the night sky outside the window, his eyes looking far beyond thousands of miles.

"Have you ever seen the ocean?"

His voice suddenly became distant and ethereal, giving the Hero of the South an unreal, illusory feeling.

"I have."

The Hero of the South nodded, his rough large hand stroking over sword scars on his knee.

Agusheed stood up with a soft hum, his black robe casting long shadows in the firelight.

"Then do you know there's a special type of fish in the ocean?"

"A kind of fish that dies if it doesn't swim."

The answer was obvious.

With Magic That Can See the Future,

Even Agusheed's other biologist disciple couldn't compare to the Hero of the South in terms of knowledge.

So the Hero of the South quietly watched his teacher's back, waiting for him to continue.

"That fish has a massive body, extremely strong attacking power—"

"But they never stop swimming their entire lives. Do you know why?"

The Hero of the South shook his head slightly, the dancing firelight masking the moonlight lingering at his temples.

"Why?"

The disciple asked his teacher.

"Because living beneath the ocean, they are incomplete."

Agusheed's response was terrifyingly calm,

As if speaking of something extremely familiar to him.

"They lack the swim bladder most important for survival in the ocean, so they cannot float naturally in the sea."

"And coincidentally, their bone structure is very light, which means once they stop swimming—"

"They will sink to the seabed and ultimately die under the pressure."

Agusheed stood at the boundary between light and shadow by the window, half his face hidden in darkness.

"I am like that."

His voice was so soft it was almost inaudible,

Yet the Hero of the South had never heard anything so clearly.

"So now I cannot stop my dreams and longing no matter what."

Fish that die if they don't swim...

People who die if they don't remember...

The Hero of the South placed his hand on the armrest, his knuckles slightly white.

"I want her to return to my side, not out of regret that I was already awakening yet failed to respond to her love while she was alive."

Agusheed walked toward his disciple, his black robe once again brushing over the ancient carpet from the imperial capital.

He stopped before the Hero of the South, his gray eyes reflecting his disciple's middle-aged face.

"I want her to be brought back from the dead simply because—"

"I love her."

"And reality without her makes it impossible for me to survive."

----------

Powerstones?

For 20 advance chapters: patreon.com/michaeltranslates