They walked through the ruins.
Villagers bowed as they passed. Not to Heiter. To Zeke.
The little girl he'd saved, the one from the house, ran up to him. She didn't speak, just shyly pressed a small, hand-woven flower crown into his hands.
"It's just a small token," her mother said, her eyes wet with gratitude. "When the village is rebuilt, we will prepare a proper reward for you."
Zeke's fingers brushed the petals. A pang. He thought of the single, wilted orchid he'd kept in his cubicle. He pushed the memory down. The demon bloodline made it... easy.
They found Frieren near a half-built house, levitating bricks.
She was... bored. Her magic was effortless, her expression a mask of pure, thousand-year apathy.
Heiter approached her like a man approaching an unexploded bomb.
"Frieren," he began, his voice laced with a careful, diplomatic tone, "this is Zeke. He's... helping. He needs to learn levitation. Would you be... willing...?"
"Okay," the white-haired elf said flatly.
Heiter stopped. He just... blinked.
Frieren's long, white hair was in twin tails. Red earrings, like drops of blood, hung from her pointed ears. Her blue-green eyes were as calm and still as a forest lake.
"Frieren..." Heiter was so stunned he pulled a paper-wrapped sugar cube from his pocket. "Want a candy?"
It was rare to see her this agreeable. He had to reward it.
"No, thank you. And... why are you suddenly offering me candy?" Frieren tilted her head, confused.
"Just asking." Heiter chuckled, embarrassed. "I... have other business. I'll be going."
He fled.
In the direction of the newly-rebuilt tavern.
"Drunkard monk," Frieren muttered. She turned her ancient, placid gaze to Zeke.
"Have you ever studied magic?"
"No," Zeke shook his head. "Neither human nor demon magic. But after I... changed, I woke up with two spells, like instincts. Flight, and Memory Magic."
The air changed.
Frieren's bored expression vanished. Her eyes, moments ago flat, were now sharp.
"Memory Magic?" Her interest was a palpable thing. "I've never heard of it."
"Hey," she said, her voice suddenly bright, "let me study your magic. In exchange, I'll teach you other spells."
"It's a deal," Zeke said instantly. This was the win.
Frieren raised her hand. White light gathered, extending into a slender, beautiful staff.
A complex magic circle appeared at its tip, enveloping Zeke. Mana threads, like curious, weightless spiders, crawled over his skin, tasting, analyzing. As she began her analysis, he told her his goal: using his magic to "replicate" people.
"Demon magic is so weird," she concluded after a few minutes, her voice humming with academic curiosity.
"Replicating a living 'clone' of someone? Impossible for you. The gap between a person and an object is too vast."
"However," she continued, "replicating parts of them onto yourself... that's possible."
"You would need to understand them. Completely. You need a deeper, more comprehensive memory."
"Not just how they fight." She tapped her staff. "You need to know their ambitions, their personalities, their hobbies, their little everyday habits. What they had for breakfast. How they sneeze. Everything."
Zeke's pulse hammered.
He knew the Frieren plot. But this... this required more.
He had to get closer. He had to understand them.
He could... he could fix their regrets.
Frieren, who only understood Himmel's love after his death. Heiter, who quit drinking too late, his body already ravaged.
Zeke hated bad endings. It's why he became a fanfiction author.
Now... he had the chance to fix the original. He wouldn't miss it.
"I see," Zeke said, his voice serious. "Frieren, you've been traveling with them for seven years. You must know them well. Can you tell me about them?"
"What are you talking about?" The elf was genuinely confused. "It's only been seven years. Seven years is a blink of an eye."
"A blink?" Zeke's eyes widened. He set the hook. "But for you, Frieren, seven years should be more than enough, right?"
Where is this weird confidence in me coming from? Frieren thought.
"At least, I'm begging you to tell me about Himmel!" Zeke said, his voice full of sincere, earnest hope.
"You're the only one I can ask! A reliable, perceptive, and mature elven big sister!"
...Reliable?
...Perceptive?
...Mature... big sister?
This kid... he sees me for who I am.
A small, proud smile quirked at Frieren's lips.
"Well, since you put it that way... this mature big sister will help you!"
She put one hand on her hip, triumphant, and pointed at the tavern with her staff.
"Let's go! I'll tell you everything about Himmel!"
...
Night. The tavern roared.
Lion-boar steak, hunted by Himmel and Eisen, sizzled on the fire.
The main table, however, was silent.
Zeke, Eisen, and Heiter. Shoveling food. Their eyes locked.
Heiter, sobered by shock, was eating his peas, not discreetly passing them to Eisen.
Frieren was... staring at Himmel.
Intently.
Like a researcher studying a new, fascinating insect.
"Frieren?" Himmel said, trying to sound casual. He self-consciously brushed his blue hair back. "Have you finally noticed my dashing good looks?"
He'd known her for seven years. He knew how... slow she was.
But as her "passionate" gaze continued, a tiny, dangerous hope began to grow in his heart.
Could it be? After all this time? Does she... feel the same way?
His heart hammered in his chest.
The great Hero... was just a nervous boy.
He struck his "Himmel-pose" and waited for the answer.
He got one.
"Mhm." Frieren tilted her head. "Himmel is, in fact, very handsome."
Her voice was flat. A statement of fact.
It hit Himmel like a lightning bolt.
His eyes rolled back, and he slumped forward onto the table, a look of utter, blissful peace on his face. He was completely "burned out."
"...Such a sinfully devastating woman," the other three men muttered in unison.
Frieren just stared at the unconscious hero, her confusion deepening.
Why did he pass out?
She didn't understand.
But she would. She just had to observe him more.
A reliable, perceptive, and mature elf-sister like her could definitely figure it out.