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Reality.

"I will ignite the sea." Sam stood with his sword, his voice as deep and calm as the Melt ice fields of the Northern Frontier, as if stating a given fact.

"You're clearly a general of the ice element; Frozen the ocean would be more in line with your lines, wouldn't it?" Solitär tilted her head.

"I don't know. His Majesty told me to say that," Sam replied expressionlessly.

"That guy always has some weird ideas," Solitär muttered to herself.

"No disrespect to His Majesty is permitted."

"Okay, okay~ Why are you being so mean? Solitär so upset Ծ‸Ծ, I'm about to cry from being yelled at~."

"..."

Warrior Village.

"Demons, please leave our land." Stoltz stood at the village entrance, longsword in hand, his fiery red hair billowing in the wind. Despite facing three powerful figures, his posture remained as upright as a pine tree.

"What a remote corner of the countryside~" Solitär chuckled. "However, we have 'identity cards'—we're 'friendly Demons' certified by the Continental United Academy. Please step aside, we're here to help." She pointed to the badge she wore.

"... Never heard of this academy." Stoltz's eyes were wary.

"The Continental United Academy is..." Ms. Solitär attempted to launch into a lengthy explanation.

"Enough with the nonsense." The purple-haired Demons interrupted impatiently, the scales in his hand gleaming with an eerie light. "The Scales of Obedience..."

"Sigh... alright, alright~" Solitär looked at Stoltz, who had sensed something was wrong and tried to rush over but was blocked by Sam and then controlled. "Controlling him directly is indeed easier. I'm too lazy to waste my breath. After all, I'm not a chatterbox."

"Haha! Sam, so many years have passed, and you don't even say hello before turning your weapons against me?" The Bloodstained War God, Rivale, wielded his giant axe and clashed with Sam, the sounds of metal clashing echoing in the air.

"We have no past to reminisce over." Sam parried the heavy axe blow with his sword, his tone icy.

"Alright, you're still the same old you. So... are those two in the distance just watching the show?" Rivale slowed his attack slightly, glancing towards the edge of the battlefield.

"They're here to ambush you," Sam said bluntly, his hands still busy.

"Is that so...? That's really boring! Don't you want to settle things with me one-on-one, fair and square?" Rivale parried the attack.

"I didn't want to," Sam replied calmly. "His Majesty's exact words were 'a just mob brawl.'"

A few days later, at the Continental United Academy, the afternoon was quiet and warm.

Lowell leaned comfortably against the soft couch by the window, the sunlight making him feel languid.

He thought to himself that having capable subordinates was indeed a good feeling; at least he didn't have to do everything himself. Before, dealing with troublesome curses like Todd's and tasks like Aura's that required some work had to be done personally.

While Rivale is ridiculously strong, he is essentially just a pure Demons general. He doesn't have any fancy tricks or need any special skills. Moreover, given his personality, you can't persuade him; you can only fight him head-on.

I wanted to invite Lupa, but she and Linié have gone off somewhere sightseeing. I haven't seen Himmel or Ruby either. Frieren... I couldn't bear to let her go, and besides, she's just as lazy as I am.

Yes, the Continental United Academy is not a full-time institution and does not have a summer vacation. For those who are already eligible to attend, it's entirely up to them to choose whether or not to attend. After all, the master can only guide you through the door; the rest is up to you. So, by some mishap, Lowell failed to find anyone to attend.

But thankfully, even if you can't shake people, you can still find demons.

The most diligent "student" residing at the academy, Solitär, and Sam, who works year-round without a break and voluntarily "pays to work." He had previously asked Sam to be a sparring partner for the students of the Continental Magic Association on Serie's side, and reminded him to ask for payment. Sam actually did ask for it, and then immediately "offered it to His Majesty," enriching Lowell's little treasury.

Aura, on the other hand, was being dragged all over the continent by the blind monk... oh, the blind adventurer. This time, she just happened to be passing by and was asked by Lowell to help her. She herself was a hundred times unwilling, but she couldn't resist the repeated calls of "sister" tugging at her clothes.

Demons are not known for their teamwork, so this is already an exceptional performance. However, Sam himself can hold his own against Rivale, and with the addition of two... oh, and Stoltz, three powerful figures providing support from the sidelines, the outcome is hardly in doubt.

"So," Eisen's steady voice rang out as he sat opposite Lowell, his thick fingers tracing the rim of his drink glass, "Why did you specifically ask me to take those two brothers as apprentices?"

"Huh? I remember you mentioned before that you wanted to find an apprentice?" Lowell replied lazily. "Buy one get one free, Stoltz and Stark, both with good talent, aren't you satisfied?"

"Hmm, it's not that I'm dissatisfied. I've heard of the reputation of the Warrior Village. But," Eisen paused, a hint of doubt appearing on his bronze face, "You seem to have forbidden Stark from entering the academy?"

Lowell raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Frieren, who was nibbling on a dessert beside him. "Well, I don't like him. I don't want to see him in the academy, so naturally I won't let him in."

Eisen stroked his thick beard. "Why do you dislike Stark? I don't think he's a bad person at heart, and he's hardworking enough." He rarely saw Lowell dislike anyone.

Lowell picked up an apple, took a bite, and mumbled, "Essence is essence. I didn't say he was a bad person, but dislike is dislike. Because in a future I 'see,' his behavior has greatly disappointed me."

"Oh? What kind of future?" Eisen pressed.

Lowell swallowed the fruit and began to narrate in a calm tone:

(A possible fragment of the future)

"Remember to wake me up when it's time for your shift," Frieren instructed Stark, who was standing guard outside the door.

"Can you really get up?" Stark asked her, holding his battle axe.

"If you can't wake me up, just kick me off the bed." After saying that, Frieren closed the door.

"Kicking you off the bed or something, I feel like you'd be sleeping on the floor anyway. Besides, is it really necessary to be so cautious? Taking turns keeping watch..." Fern muttered softly from the bed, his purple hair gleaming in the moonlight. "This house is right on the edge of the village, the neighborhood seems pretty safe..."

"I observed that Village Chief during the day." Frieren lay on the bed, her emerald eyes staring at the ceiling, recalling the Village Chief she had seen earlier that day. "The villagers all say he's kind and has been in the village for decades. But his hands... they're clearly those of an active-duty soldier."

He also said this to Stark.

The night was deep and quiet, with only the chirping of insects. Frieren and Fern had already gone to sleep, while Stark kept watch outside the door.

After an unknown amount of time, a figure appeared silently before Stark, blending into the night. It was the Village Chief, Radaal, dressed in black and holding a dagger. He hadn't chosen to ambush or assassinate, but instead revealed himself directly.

Stark looked at him without making a move.

"Still on guard so late?" The voice of the Shadow Warriors — Radaal— was old and calm. "I didn't expect you to be so vigilant; it was my oversight."

"If Frieren's deduction is correct, you are indeed a seasoned warrior," Stark said, looking at the old man.

"What's the matter so late?" he asked, knowing full well that the other party had ill intentions, yet he still did not raise his weapon or sound the alarm.

Not only that, I couldn't sense any killing intent from him at all... This thought flashed through Stark's mind.

"I only want Frieren's life. Get out of my way." Radaal stated his purpose directly. This was out of character for him. Perhaps he was getting old and too lazy to lie, or perhaps he had been an assassin all his life and wanted to be honest for once, or perhaps... for some unknown reason, he did it anyway.

"Frieren... what did she do?" Stark was even more certain of the old man's purpose, but still did not take any action.

Don't make me say it a second time.

Do I look like the kind of person who would abandon their companions and run for their own life?

"Like," Radaal stated bluntly, but then added, "Precisely because it's like it, it's even less likely to run away, right? There are often stubborn guys like you among the warriors."

Perhaps out of a hint of admiration, Radaal reminded him again, "Pick up your weapon." His gaze fell on the battle axe that Stark was carrying.

"Is there no room for negotiation?" Stark still hadn't drawn his axe, nor had he given a warning.

"I've really been underestimated. You think you can stop me at this distance without weapons?" Radaal finally lost his patience, taking off his cloak to reveal a black outfit underneath. "Indeed, you're stronger than an old man like me. I can tell at a glance that you've been through many battles and accumulated a lot of experience. But... it's not enough."

Before he could finish speaking, Radaal had already closed in! Stark was about to draw his axe, the old man's hand firmly pressed down on the reverse blade of the axe! At the same time, the cold, poisoned blade of the dagger was pressed against his throat.

Radaal made a "shh" gesture with the hand that had just been pressing down on the back of the axe. He didn't kill, perhaps because he didn't want to commit further bloodshed, or perhaps because his target was clear.

"Fri..." Stark only then remembered to warn him, but was struck in the abdomen by a swift knee strike, groaned, and fell to the ground unconscious.

Inside the room, Fern instantly woke up. "Lady Frieren."

Frieren was faster; she instantly stood up and gripped her staff. She wasn't even wearing pajamas, but rather her mage robes, indicating that she had anticipated the possible attack.

The door was destroyed by Radaal. Frieren remained expressionless. Just as her staff began to glow faintly, her wrist was precisely grabbed. In a dizzying moment, she was pinned to the ground by Radaal, a dagger pressed against her neck.

"Please don't move." Fern pointed at him with his staff.

"You're the one who should stay still," Radaal said in a low voice. "At this distance, I'll be the first to decapitate her."

"It seems so." Frieren's tone was calm and unfazed, as if she were not surprised.

If the old man wanted to kill her, Frieren would already be dead.

Trust misplaced.

(Reality)

"That's enough." Lowell interrupted his narration, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and remained expressionless. "From the moment Frieren deduced that the Village Chief was a warrior in disguise, and informed and arranged for Stark to keep watch, to Radaal's appearance, his declaration of purpose, and even his taking up arms... despite so many warnings, he still... Is that gentleness or naivety?"

"Eisen, feeling fear yet still persisting in becoming a warrior is commendable, but he's different from you. You're the kind of responsible person who fulfills the basic duties of a warrior, while he..."

He put down his teacup and looked at Eisen: "By my standards, this is more like dereliction of duty. If this were the army, he would be a sentry, and for this kind of performance, court-martial wouldn't be an exaggeration. If he were in danger on his own, that would be his own business. But there are two companions behind him in the house, two girls. Everyone knows what the responsibility of night watch is. If Radaal had just attacked and knocked him unconscious, that would be a matter of ability, nothing to do with it. But this isn't a matter of ability, it's a matter of attitude. Underestimating the enemy, carelessness, irresponsibility... How could he be so negligent when there are people around him who need protection? In short, I don't like him."

After a moment's thought, Eisen asked, "If you hate him so much, why did you save him?"

"My main goal is to Stoltz..."

"Then why make me take both of them as my disciples at the same time? If you don't like Stark, why not just let me take Stoltz?"

"Dislike is dislike, but let's keep things separate." Lowell waved his hand. "For example, in the army, you might not like a colleague, but as long as they're not a traitor, they're a comrade. I don't like Stark, but he's not a bad person at heart. He's also a lawful good, and in some ways, he's like Himmel —he likes to help people. My dislike for him and my saving him and having you take him on as your apprentice aren't contradictory. Besides, aren't you both 'deserted generals'? Maybe you'll get along unexpectedly." He glanced at Eisen with a hint of teasing.

Eisen remained noncommittal.

"Although I dislike him, what I actually did was to save the lives of his respected brother and the entire village. But that has nothing to do with whether I like him or not. It's not like he can't live just because I don't like him. Who do I mean to him? He doesn't even know that the person who saved his village was me. I just don't want him to come here. I'm a big part of this academy, so it's my right not to let him come."

"I'm telling you this so that when you're training him, you'll pay extra attention to this point and better fulfill your responsibilities as a soldier."

"If he were just a novice, his naivety and timidity would be understandable, given his childhood trauma... But this has nothing to do with childhood trauma. Besides, in the future I saw, he had already trained with you for many years, and had received guidance from experienced warriors like Grandpa Voll and the legendary monk Kraft on his journey. He should have been a mature warrior, and yet he remained like this despite multiple warnings and the need to protect girls... I simply cannot accept it."

He didn't understand the author who wrote it this way just to explain that "mages are no match for warriors in close combat," and immediately turned into a hater. Lowell was a Taurus, and once he disliked someone, it was very difficult for him to change his mind.

Taurus traits: Once they dislike someone, it's very difficult to change their mind; this is indeed a very prominent characteristic of Taurus. This mainly stems from their stubborn, security-conscious, and vengeful nature. They have a strong sense of defensiveness and are slow to warm up: building trust takes a long time; they carefully observe and test others. Once a negative event leaves a bad impression, it's very difficult to reverse it.

Stubborn and principled: They are very persistent in their views and do not change them easily. If the other party's behavior violates their principles, their resentment will be very deep and lasting.

Sharp memory: They tend to remember the details of hurts or grievances they have suffered, as if they have a "ledger" in their mind. This makes it difficult for them to truly let go of grudges.

Taureans are known for their enduring love and hate. It's not easy for them to dislike someone, but once that dislike takes hold, it's incredibly difficult to reverse the situation. This stems from their extreme pursuit of stable, secure, and genuine relationships.

"A person should fulfill the responsibilities of their position. Frieren trusts him so much, I don't think he deserves it. I'm petty, but he's mentioned that forbidden word about Frieren more than once."

"And the thought of his behavior, actually letting that old man hold a Frieren to my neck and pin me to the ground..."

Frieren was picking up a cookie when she heard this. She blinked her emerald eyes and said calmly, "I don't really care..."

Lowell immediately turned his head and looked at her with a "friendly" gaze, winking and making faces.

Frieren received the signal and immediately changed her tune, though her tone remained flat. "... Yes, I do care. That's too much."

"Hmph." Lowell finally let out a satisfied hum, leaned back on the couch, and ended the topic.