Defensive Victory

After the brief exchange, the group began clearing the battlefield.

The most striking feature was the colossal scarlet flower dominating the center of the plain, staining the surroundings crimson. Countless fallen demons left deep red marks upon the land.

This macabre painting radiated a sinister aura, making people hesitant to investigate the nature of the magic capable of annihilating over a thousand individuals in one move. When soldiers mustered the courage to try and move the flower, they found it utterly immobile, as solid as a fortress wall.

Given its world-destroying power, no one dared interfere too much. Its petals were currently closed; what might happen if it bloomed again?

Commander Wayne scratched his head, muttering, "Maybe we should just make it a victory monument?"

"I'll retrieve it."

As she spoke, Frieren stepped forward. Cupping her hands, the giant flower shrank accordingly until it was merely finger-sized, the Scarlet Rot contained within reduced to a non-threatening level.

It was rumored that the Caelid region was similarly marked by giant flowers after the Shattering war.

The Flower of Aeonia is notoriously difficult to eradicate, always leaving traces after blooming. Besides, how could she bear to destroy such precious experimental material?

But if something went wrong, the potential for catastrophe was immense.

"By the way, Your Excellency, can this red soil be removed?"

"There's no truly effective method for now. But don't worry, it just looks dramatic. There's no residual contamination; otherwise, I certainly wouldn't use it so readily."

Wayne quickly replied, "Please don't mind me, Your Excellency, I was just asking casually. Honestly, use whatever means necessary against the Demon Race! Environmental damage? An environment without humans is meaningless. We'd be happy even if you turned this place into scorched earth."

There was nothing left to say.

War tormented both sides. If the conflict didn't truly cease, everyone involved would become warped.

"Teacher Frieren, what kind of flower is this? It's so pretty." Flamme, looking like a curious child, reached out to poke it.

The silver-haired girl quickly pulled the flower away.

"Don't touch it, little one. This thing is extremely dangerous; you saw its power. Furthermore, it's experimental magic. I haven't even fully grasped some of its fundamental properties and principles yet."

"But it looks good on Teacher. The color suits you, doesn't it?"

"What?"

Flamme reached past Frieren's hand, held the flower up, and placed it by the latter's left ponytail. A splash of vivid red adorned her simple appearance, showing a surprisingly good eye for aesthetics, complementing the golden, crown-like ornamentation on her head.

Whether it looked good or not was secondary. At least keeping it close allowed for observation, preventing mishaps. Perhaps next time it was about to bloom, she could throw the hair ornament out as a catalyst, saving mana in the process.

Anyone from the Lands Between would probably lose their composure seeing a demigod use the Flower of Aeonia as a hair accessory.

Seeing her teacher accept the suggestion, Flamme clapped her hands excitedly.

Frieren, however, lacked a child's boundless energy. She turned her attention back to collecting soil samples, digging small amounts at one-meter intervals radiating from the impact center. More data meant more precious, irreplaceable material.

Truly worthy of the name Scarlet Rot.

If Frieren hadn't developed the control technique and withdrawn her power in time, this area would have become a breeding ground for decay until a purification method was found. In other words, unrestrained use within the Demon Race's territory was feasible, but there was no guarantee how far it might spread.

As she pondered, Flamme, showing initiative, started digging samples from the other side, carefully placing them into separate bags.

Good, having an assistant is much more convenient. Unfortunately, humans might not be usable for very long...

Half a day later.

Working together, the soldiers and citizens of Northwind Keep quickly cleared the battlefield.

Once she finished collecting samples, Frieren received the magic books promised by the nobles. They were remarkably efficient, almost as if afraid she'd forget and leave.

The stereotype about elves was likely something along the lines of, "Forgot something again, but it's not important, they'll remember in a few decades anyway." They seemed indifferent to everything. When dealing with them, it was best to keep track of discussion topics yourself; don't rely on the long-lived species.

She was quite content sitting outside the city walls, reading.

No one was tactless enough to disturb the Divine Era Mage. To them, she was a reclusive master who had righteously intervened. There was no need to trouble her further; she had already helped immensely.

During this time, Flamme reunited with her family—a stroke of luck amidst misfortune.

At least she would have a somewhat normal childhood and could grow into a mentally sound apprentice. Frieren certainly didn't want to end up like some mages who trained bizarre disciples, trying to teach too much too fast.

Unconsciously, evening arrived. Even Frieren, who often forgot food and sleep, considered finding lodging.

Suddenly, she noticed Flamme beside her, looking at her notes. More importantly, why hadn't she noticed her approach sooner?

"Are you concealing your mana?"

"Yes. I'm learning to restrain my presence like Teacher, and it's good practice for control."

"You don't need to compress it to a tenth like I do. Half is sufficient for you; the cost-benefit isn't great for humans. Speaking of which, since you've seen your family, why not go back with them? Let me warn you, I'm not someone who prioritizes quality of life. It might be tough."

"It doesn't matter. I want to train with Teacher."

"A pity. Your talent is first-rate, but time to grow is what this era lacks most. Too many geniuses die young in war, especially since the Demon Race specifically hunts those with potential."

"I heard the Demon Race might have prophets, which is why they've always been able to strategically suppress humans."

As Flamme spoke, fear flickered across her face. Being intelligent, she immediately realized that as Frieren's apprentice, she was undoubtedly on their kill list too.

Dangerous.

"Don't worry about that stuff. Let me ask you one thing: could their prophets predict the massive losses the Demon Race suffered today?"

"Perhaps, but Teacher still succeeded. This simply means either the prophets don't care, or the predicted outcome was an unavoidable event. I lean towards the latter. As long as you're strong enough, it doesn't matter." The silver-haired girl closed her magic book with a smile.

"You have keen insight and can keep up with my pace. Let's see how far each of us can go."

Though young, Flamme already possessed the heart of a powerhouse. The growth and nurturing she required weren't difficult for Frieren. Teaching her step-by-step ensured she'd learn; it was also a way to pass on her knowledge.

If I wanted my magical techniques to endure unchanged for ages, I should take a long-lived species as an apprentice. They stay the same for centuries.

If I wanted my skills to flourish and spread widely, I should teach humans. They adapt and innovate quickly, blossoming like branches on a tree, even if the result diverges greatly from the original.

Frieren didn't care about purity or pedigree. Knowledge that was actively shared and transmitted was living knowledge. Therefore, teaching a short-lived species was a good choice, allowing the spirit of her magic to endure in the world.

"Let's go into the city and buy supplies first."

She stood up, intending to walk briskly, but Flamme took her hand. Their size difference made them look like an older sister leading a younger one. Perhaps it was a longing for security. Frieren indulged her apprentice's trivial request. Whatever.

Surprisingly, a grand welcoming ceremony greeted them the moment they entered the city—a roaring tsunami of cheers.

How did I suddenly end up on a red carpet?

Petals rained down around Frieren, punctuated by the occasional boom of fireworks. Thousands upon thousands of people waved at her, some even weeping with joy.

She gave slight nods and waves in response, keeping a low profile. After all, someone who joined midway shouldn't steal all the credit.

The nobles, however, felt differently. Led by the commander, they offered the highest possible honors, exceeding even the reception for a monarch. A king couldn't save Northwind Keep, but the mage who wielded the Scarlet Flower did.

It felt good to be alive.

Everyone's current safety was entirely thanks to Frieren's protection.

Thus, their grand welcome was also a plea for her to stay, hoping for mutual support.

In chaotic times, the strong ruled because they brought security and maintained basic order. Otherwise, when enemies besieged the city, engaging in slaughter and plunder, no one would be spared.

Of course, part of the celebration was for themselves. Simply surviving long enough for help to arrive was luck. Many hadn't lived to see this day's victory. Those still living should remember and stay strong.

"Victory!"

"We defended the central heartland plains!"

"Praise Lady Frieren!"

Wave after wave of cheers contained not just praise but also a sense of release. The crisis that had lasted months was finally over.

Although supplies had continuously flowed into the city from the central regions, preventing a true siege, everyone had remained on edge. Now, the alert was finally lifted.

If nothing else, they could finally get a good night's sleep, unlike before when demon attacks occurred daily, shaking beds and raining dust from ceilings.

They had to be constantly ready for the walls to breach, not even daring to take off their trousers, prepared to flee at a moment's notice.

The long period of tension was over, and it wasn't just a temporary reprieve—it was a decisive victory.

They had won big.

Even for humans with their large population, losing over a thousand at once would be a staggering blow. For the Demon Race, it was undoubtedly a devastating injury, not to mention the crippling impact on morale. As long as the scarlet soil remained outside the city walls, it served as a constant reminder of Frieren's terrifying power—a deterrent implying: I can cast magic right on your doorstep.

Based on this achievement alone, she would instantly become one of the most renowned powerhouses in the world.

Frieren heard someone call her "Frieren the Slayer"—that title finally felt right, more accurate than "Magic Sword."

People in this world actually get it. They see my style and know I'm a mage. Good. A little fame would make finding people easier, and perhaps grant access to more magic books for researching new techniques.

She had seen many grand scenes like this before. Unfazed, she walked down the welcoming avenue, heading straight for the merchant street, ready for some long-overdue shopping.

Flamme, however, was stunned the entire time.

If Frieren hadn't been holding her hand, she might have forgotten how to walk. The adults' intense emotions exerted a strange pressure, yet mostly filled her with burgeoning pride and ambition.

Perhaps one day, I too can achieve this.

Today, her teacher had shown her the pinnacle, an unforgettable sight, a goal worth pursuing for a lifetime. Flamme now realized the path ahead: protect humanity and spread magic, letting this technology benefit civilization.

The orange-red-haired girl gazed at the small yet resolute figure ahead. Frieren had already suppressed her mana signature, but her intense presence couldn't be ignored, especially her eyes:

They held the weight of ages, having witnessed the world's changes, the shifting of seas and lands. They brimmed with the aura of time, yet also profound loneliness. A soul forged with human-like passion through countless trials, hidden within the vessel of a long-lived being—that was the source of her magnificence, an essence few noticed.

Abnormally strong.

What epics unfolded within the gaze of Frieren, the Millennial Watcher?

If I reach a higher realm, could I share this loneliness with Teacher? Two people's solitude is better than one's...

Just as Flamme was lost in thought, she saw the silver-haired girl glance towards stalls filled with various strange trinkets.

"Could these all be treasures unearthed from dungeons?"

"Unlikely. Maybe if they were dug up last week. Ninety percent of the artifacts here are younger than you."

"You don't understand. Dungeon treasures provide information about the dungeon itself. I hear there are still many large, undiscovered underground complexes left over from the Divine Era. There must be extraordinary things inside."

Despite saying this, Frieren didn't have time for close inspection. She headed towards workshops and stores selling magic-related goods, planning to purchase a full set of various containers first.

Ping!

Flamme, curious, tapped a reagent bottle. It resonated with mana, emitting a crisp sound that made her gasp in surprise.

The shop owner chuckled. "First time here, little lady? My wares are rather basic, just right for you. And judging by your mana resonance, you seem quite sensitive. Good talent. No wonder Lady Frieren took an interest in you."

"Indeed. I'm buying some suitable items for her apprentice training."

"We certainly have everything you could need for that."

"Also, give me some materials that can serve as anchors for barrier magic. The more, the better. I'll take them all."

Hearing this, the owner went behind the counter. He knew the items displayed for ordinary mages wouldn't satisfy this esteemed customer; it was time to bring out the good stuff.

"Teacher doesn't seem like someone who specializes in barrier magic?"

A small smile touched Frieren's lips. "In battle, one should quickly assess an enemy's likely specialization. So, let me test you: if you encounter an elven mage like me, how would you probe their strengths?"

"Attack proactively, of course."

"Wrong. You run. Same applies if you encounter a high-ranking demon with centuries of experience. Use retreat to bait out their techniques. Maintaining distance first increases your margin for error."

Flamme nodded thoughtfully, immediately connecting it to the battle that had just occurred.

"Actually, everyone misjudged Teacher, didn't they? Especially the demons, who thought you were just a mage. But the remaining elites were mostly killed using warrior techniques. Are you also a warrior? Do you know martial arts?"

"Therefore, against opponents like us, fight conservatively. Wait for an opportunity. Baiting attacks and focusing on defense and counter-attacks is most effective."

"But you still plan to teach me offense first."

"Because I'm confident the attacks I teach you are unlike anything the world has seen before, guaranteed to be unexpected. Only when you've mastered offense, thereby creating more leeway for defense, are you qualified to learn defensive techniques. Otherwise, pure defense is just waiting to die."

Soul Magic attacks were Frieren's latest development—covert and efficient. As a new school of magic, they were perfect for surprise attacks.

It's the most suitable.

If Flamme mastered it, it could help compensate for the mana gap caused by her age.

Besides, humans weren't known for vast mana reserves; their ability to quickly master diverse magics was what allowed them to contend with the Demon Race.

And she had a theory: did the adaptability granted by Soul Magic mean it could potentially interface with the Soul Arts system? Could it even allow one to infuse large amounts of souls to boost fundamental attributes?

For instance, could Frieren become Flamme's Fire Keeper?

____

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