Missing

Ten days slipped quietly by amid the peaceful cycle of mornings and evenings in the village.

Mina's presence was like a pebble dropped into a lake: it stirred ripples at first, then sank to the bottom of everyday life. She remained expressionless, her purple eyes betraying no emotion. Like an exquisite doll, she carried out basic instructions: "eat," "sleep," and "follow the village chief's daughter to the fields."

She made no attempt to escape and did nothing unusual. Even when the chief's daughter put a wreath of wildflowers on her, she merely stood still, letting the delicate petals frame her inhuman horns.

Himmel's party took turns accepting simple commissions near the village—or perhaps they were not commissions at all, just requests from the villagers.

They cleared out wandering lesser monsters and mended fences, always leaving at least two people behind to keep an occasional eye on the fields where Mina was. But all their vigilance seemed unnecessary.

The villagers' initial fear and hostility gradually wore away amid the uneventful days. The chief's daughter in particular, a kind and innocent girl, seemed to have truly come to regard Mina as a quiet playmate. She even shared the candy she saved with her—though Mina only accepted it and never ate any.

"Looks like... we worried too much?" Heiter took a swig of wine as he watched the two figures sitting side by side on a distant ridge between the fields. The crooked wreath around Mina's neck looked a little comical in the setting sun. "Maybe... things really can be different?"

Himmel wiped down his sword and smiled. "That would be best."

Even Ruby began to think that perhaps the demon girl really could be "won over." She occasionally stole a few extra glances at Mina, the wariness in her eyes greatly diminished.

Frieren and Lowell spent most of their time beneath the old tree at the village entrance, one studying the book Basic Principles of Sweet-Sour Conversion Magic, the other staring blankly at the sky, as though everything in the village had nothing to do with them. Only Lowell occasionally raised his eyes and glanced in Mina's direction, his gaze calm and undisturbed, as though he were looking at a still painting.

Himmel had decided to leave the next morning. That evening, he informed the village chief. An expression of relief mixed with a trace of complicated emotion appeared on the chief's face, and he nodded repeatedly. "All right, all right... Thank you all for your hard work, for solving so many of the village's troubles... Please, you must let us treat you again tonight..."

Night deepened, and the village fell asleep. Only the chirping of insects and the occasional distant bark of a dog could be heard. Thin clouds veiled the moonlight, leaving the land in darkness.

Suddenly!

On the outskirts of the village, in the direction of the chief's house, a tongue of crimson flame shot up, tearing through the stillness of the night! The crackle and explosive pops of burning wood followed, along with a piercing, anguished scream!

"Fire! The chief's house is on fire!"

"Help!"

The chaotic cries instantly roused the entire village.

Himmel's party was the first to rush out of their temporary lodgings. They moved like lightning, racing straight toward the towering flames.

The sight before them nearly froze everyone's blood.

The chief's relatively isolated wooden house was already more than half consumed by flames. In the firelight, Mina stood quietly in the open space before the house, holding a bloody severed human arm! Fresh blood still stained the corners of her mouth, and her purple eyes reflected the dancing flames, so calm that it was chilling.

The chief lay not far from her, his right shoulder a bloody mess and his empty sleeve soaked with blood. His face was deathly pale, and he trembled all over from the agonizing pain and utter shock. He pointed at Mina with his other hand, his lips quivering, but he could not form a complete syllable. An overturned oil lamp nearby showed that the tragedy had happened in an unguarded moment.

"Mina—! You... why! Why?!" The chief's daughter ran over in her nightclothes. At the sight, she let out a heartbroken cry and nearly fainted.

Himmel's sword flashed from its sheath, its cold blade pointing straight at Mina. There was no trace of fury on his handsome face, only a deep, unrelenting gloom. "Why?"

Ruby shook with anger, magic flickering uncontrollably at the tip of her staff. "You... you liar! Demon! We almost believed you!"

The villagers surrounded Mina with hoes and pitchforks, their roars and curses unceasing. The firelight flickered across faces twisted with anger and fear.

Mina tilted her head, seeming to try to understand the surging emotions. She raised a bloodless finger and casually pointed at the farmwoman in the crowd who had once lost her child—the woman was glaring at her as though she wanted to tear her apart.

"Ah, because that woman,"

Mina said without inflection, as though commenting on the weather, "was always looking at me like she wanted to kill me. It was only a little meat." She looked at the blood around her mouth, then at the severed arm in her hand. "I just wanted a peaceful life, so I wanted to give her compensation. Since the chief said he liked me, I thought he would understand and help with this 'compensation.' I did consider compensating her with my own, but it would only turn into mana and dissipate."

Her logic was clear, but chilling to the bone.

An uproar swept through the crowd, their anger reaching its peak.

Mina looked at the furious villagers, then at the tip of Himmel's sword pointing at her. Tilting her head, she showed an expression resembling "thought" for the first time, though it was still vacant.

"Ah, ah, it looks like that won't do. It's really hard to understand."

She murmured as if to herself, then did something that left everyone stunned. Slowly, she bent her knees, seeming to intend to kneel toward the farmwoman and the villagers. "Then it looks like I should kneel and apologize? Will that quell your resentment? I've seen humans do this."

Her movements were awkward and stiff, as though she were imitating a vague image. Rather than an act of repentance, it was an attempt at behavior based on a faulty database.

"Enough." Himmel's voice cut through the bizarre scene. The tip of his sword rose slightly, his killing intent no longer concealed. Ruby tightened her grip on her staff as well, mana beginning to gather, though she was trembling slightly.

"Ah... it looks like that still won't do. Then... Mommy?" Mina continued expressionlessly, trying to draw on another part of her vocabulary that might elicit a "forgiving" response.

Just then, a weak but unusually resolute voice rang out:

"Wait... wait! Hero!"

The chief struggled to raise half his body with all his strength, supported by his daughter. Agonizing pain covered his forehead in cold sweat, and his lips were pale. As he looked at Mina, beneath the pain and disbelief, there surged a sorrow almost like compassion.

"Don't... don't kill her..." Every word the chief spoke seemed to consume his life. His voice was halting, yet it reached everyone's ears clearly. "Ultimately... this... this was... a lack of education... It's our fault... for failing to teach her... right from wrong..."

He panted heavily, his gaze sweeping over the angry villagers before finally settling on Himmel, with an almost pleading look.

"She... she's like a blank sheet of paper... with only the rules of survival written on it... She doesn't understand what it means to hurt someone, or what it means to cherish someone... We... were the ones who deluded ourselves into judging her by human emotions... and caused this disaster... Hero... please... give her one more... chance to be properly guided..."

His words shocked everyone even more than Mina's actions had. Even Himmel froze, his sword faltering slightly. Ruby's eyes widened as she looked from the chief to the expressionless Mina, completely unable to understand.

The fire crackled, illuminating the chief's aged, stubborn face, Mina's purple eyes that could never be lit by human emotion, and the complicated, thoughtful expressions on every adventurer's face.

In the silence, only the sound of burning flames and the chief's heavy breathing remained.

At some point, Lowell had come to stand beside Frieren. The two quietly watched the heart of this tragedy made up of "understanding" and "inability to understand." Frieren's emerald eyes remained calm and undisturbed, as though she had foreseen it all, though she was somewhat puzzled by the chief's actions.

And the burden of the choice fell once again on Himmel's shoulders.