The Weight of the Past

Nighttime, hotel room.

A few scattered lights can be seen outside the window, and further away, the outline of a sleeping town can be seen. There is no wind, and the night is very quiet.

Frieren sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed in a soft white nightgown, her long, silvery hair cascading over her shoulders. She was slowly drying her hair with a towel, her emerald eyes fixed on Lowell, who sat in the chair opposite her.

Lowell leaned back in the chair by the window, looking outside.

After tidying up the bathroom, Fern came out and saw that neither of them was asleep. She sat down on another chair by the bed, picked up a comb, and began to comb her long, light purple hair. Her movements were steady, with her usual methodical approach.

The room was quiet for a while.

The only sounds were the faint rustling of a towel against hair and the rhythmic swishing of a comb through long hair.

Frieren stopped drying her hair and draped the towel over her lap. She looked up, her emerald eyes gazing at Lowell by the window for a few seconds.

Lowell.

"Um?"

"You're very happy today."

Lowell turned his head, a look of surprise on his face.

"Hmm...? You noticed?"

Frieren nodded, her expression calm.

"Of course. You rarely smile like that."

Fern stopped combing her hair and looked over.

"They must be happy because they met Lady Lupa and Linié Line."

"... Well, that's natural," Frieren said, "But that's not what I meant."

Lowell was even more surprised and sat up slightly.

"Hmm... when you saw that old man? You noticed?"

Frieren nodded again.

"Kindness."

Fern blinked and set the comb aside.

"Eh... was that the old merchant who used to be a bandit? But judging from your conversation, you only met him once, right? And it didn't seem like a very pleasant experience."

Lowell was silent for a few seconds, then let out a soft breath, leaned back in his chair, and turned his gaze back to the deep night outside the window.

"Hmm... Fern, of course, I'm not close to him, we only met once. I was naturally happier to see Lupa and Linié reunited after so long. But seeing that guy... it feels different."

He paused, as if searching for the right word.

"It's a kind of... well, the emotional joy of seeing a 'possibility' come true."

Fern watched him quietly, waiting for him to continue.

Lowell didn't continue immediately. The room fell silent again, with only the faint rumble of a carriage returning home late in the distance, which soon faded away.

After a while, he spoke again, his voice lower and slower than before.

Do you remember when I told you that happiness is simply being well-fed and warmly clothed?

Fern nodded.

"Yes, I remember. You said that because I come from a noble family, I don't have any pressure regarding food and clothing, so I might not be able to feel the happiness and... weight of such things."

"So, seeing him..." Lowell's gaze seemed unfocused, fixed on a single point in the void, "I feel... something. Perhaps you think I'm strange, Fern, Frieren. But..."

He stopped, seemingly hesitant. His fingers tapped lightly twice unconsciously on the armrest of the chair, then stopped.

"Hmm, what I'm about to say, don't mind my Demons identity. Just think of it as... a story from a very, very far away place, about someone else."

Frieren hummed in agreement, indicating she was listening. She then picked up the towel and continued drying her half-dry hair, her movements unhurried and deliberate.

Fern nodded and listened quietly.

Lowell looked at them, a faint smile curving his lips, a smile that vanished almost instantly.

"First of all, I... am a very contradictory person at heart." He began, speaking steadily, as if recounting someone else's story. "On the surface, I say I don't owe anyone anything, I don't need to pursue anything, I just want to take care of myself and those around me, and slack off. But deep down, I crave peace more than anyone else, and I fear war."

"Why?"

He asked himself the question, then paused for a moment before giving his answer.

"Because my grandfather, grandmother, father, mother... all died in the war."

The air in the room seemed to freeze for a moment.

Frieren stopped drying her hair. She looked up, her emerald green eyes gazing quietly at him.

Fern's interlaced fingers twitched slightly, but his expression remained unchanged; only his gaze became more focused.

"My grandparents died at the hands of a warlord during a war," Lowell continued, his voice flat. "But later, because they needed strength to defend against foreign enemies, this warlord was incorporated into the military and became... well, in their parlance, a 'red and righteous' soldier, even holding a high position, a member of the decision-making body."

"I was young then. My grandfather was very good to me. I once told my father that I wanted revenge."

He paused.

"But my father, who was always gentle and had never hit me before, hit me that time."

"He told me that matters of national importance must always outweigh personal grudges. If you kill him, someone else will kill you; the chain of revenge will never end once it begins. If you kill him, won't someone else kill you? Won't someone else kill that person for your sake?"

He said, "Your grandparents sacrificed themselves for the country, for the nation, and for peace. Revenge? Killing? It's just for momentary pleasure."

Lowell took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

"I didn't understand it at the time. But later, I gradually came to understand it."

His gaze seemed to pierce through the walls, looking towards a war-torn past that didn't exist in this world.

"I've seen too many wars, Fern." His voice lowered. "What is war like?"

"It's a slaughterhouse. It's ruins. It's people who talk to you today becoming cold corpses tomorrow. It's fathers who will never come home, children who will never see their mothers again. It's entire cities reduced to ashes, millions displaced, not knowing where to go tomorrow, not knowing if they'll live to see the next sunrise."

"Soldiers from both sides clashed in the mud, their bodies piled high. Civilians hid under the rubble, listening to the explosions grow closer, wondering if the next spell would strike them. The church was overflowing with wounded, but the herbs had long since run out. A mother held her dead child, her eyes vacant, unable to even shed a tear."

"It means food is burned, land is polluted, and an entire generation struggles with hunger and disease. It means schools are turned into military camps, and children take up arms. It means hatred is passed down from generation to generation, with no end in sight."

"In one place, four years into the war, the combined casualties on both sides have long exceeded one million. Soldiers have been harvested like wheat, cities have been reduced to ruins, and millions are homeless."

"In one place, over two years, the confirmed death toll exceeded 70,000, and the actual number may have already surpassed 100,000. Two million three hundred thousand people, almost all trapped, have no future."

"In one place... in a year and a half, more than 150,000 people died, 12 million were displaced, hospitals were destroyed, and famine spread."

"Somewhere, the country is torn apart by civil war, the economy has collapsed, and the currency has become worthless. People queue for hours for a meager ration to barely feed themselves; hospitals have no medicine, and schools have no textbooks. An entire generation grows up in hunger, fear, and the trauma of losing loved ones, and they may never learn how to live normally, to love, or to hope."

"Somewhere, just days ago... because of an attack by a certain country, a girls' school... 165 people died and 96 were injured, the vast majority of whom were girls aged 7-12. The school buildings were completely destroyed, the walls charred and thick smoke rising. Scattered among the rubble were various personal belongings of the students: a cute little bunny doll, a diary filled with dreams for the future. Hundreds of their parents and residents gathered around the ruins, searching with their bare hands, the cries at the scene heart-wrenching..."

He spoke calmly, as if listing numbers. But behind each number lay a heavy burden.

"The reasons for every war seem to sound 'just' and 'necessary' enough."

"But the result is the same—countless ordinary lives are wiped away like dust."

"Father was right. Once the chain of revenge is started, it will roll on its own, growing larger and larger until it crushes everyone. Hatred breeds hatred, violence breeds violence, and in the end there are no winners, only scorched earth and those who survive but have lost everything."

Those who wage war not out of hatred, but out of self-interest... are even more despicable.

The room was quiet. Several more lights outside the window had gone out.

"Therefore, I believe that 'not killing' is the right thing to do," Lowell said. "Except for a very few... those for whom there is absolutely no other option, or those who pose a threat to people I care about, I will try my best to spare the others. Give them a way out, give them a chance."

He raised his eyes, looking at Frieren, then at Fern.

"But... so what?"

He chuckled softly, but there was no real joy in his smile.

"My father told me that a heart that yearns for peace, without the power, cannot bring about peace. A kind person who talks about peace but cannot save a child crying in the flames of war. Therefore, I became a powerful soldier. Peace is achieved through struggle. You need the strength to make others sit down and listen to you, rather than directly taking action—this was my father's creed, and it later became mine."

"My mother said that if more people have a home, food, clothing, and can feel love and know the value of peace, the seeds of hatred will not easily sprout, and the foundation of peace will be solid. So she traveled everywhere, giving speeches, raising funds, building schools, and taking in orphans... Later, I founded the Continental United Academy. The initial idea also stemmed from this."

He paused for a long time again. This pause was longer than any before.

"Later, my father died in the war he fought for peace. My mother was assassinated while appealing for a ceasefire in a war-torn region."

His voice remained steady, but he spoke more slowly.

"But I know," he finally said, his voice soft but with an unusual certainty, "That they never regretted it."

"But I... I've tried my best, and I'm tired of it."

He closed his eyes, then opened them a few seconds later, his eyes revealing a deep-seated weariness.

"Peace is so hard to come by. There are far too many... fools. Or not fools, just people blinded by anger, fear, and greed. They don't know, or pretend not to know, the preciousness of peace. Some empty glory or ancient grudges can easily send young people to the battlefield and drag civilians into hell, pushing them into the meat grinder."

"Back then, I carried the weight of responsibility, their expectations, and... my own obsession with proving them right. So... even when I was weary, I couldn't let go. I had to keep moving forward, even knowing that there might still be a cliff ahead, even knowing that there was no happiness for me there."

He gently shook his head, looked at Frieren, and his eyes softened considerably.

"And now... without that responsibility, without those expectations, I can... well, just let myself go, slack off, and live an ordinary life with Frieren, and finally find my own happiness..."

Frieren looked at him, her clear green eyes sparkling. She didn't speak, but simply returned his gaze quietly.

"But my desire for peace has never been extinguished. It has only become more deeply hidden. I am still very afraid... afraid that because I am soft-hearted for a moment and let some evil person go, others will suffer the same fate as I did, with their families torn apart and their lives destroyed. This fear often arises at night."

"Demons... although many are now able to 'coexist' with Human race, in the end, apart from myself, many are just beasts shackled by the 'Dominating Stone Ring' I've put on them..."

"So, I don't know if they've truly become capable of peacefully coexisting with Human race without constraints, now... including Solitär and Linié. Well, of course, these shackles won't actually affect their lives or combat abilities... but I still feel bad."

"That's why 'Future Prediction' exists... I hope to prevent the tragedy from happening, and I also hope to see a future where they can let me feel at ease to unshackle them and live in peace with Human race. However, it's not perfect yet; it can only see the 'predetermined future,' not the future of 'what will happen if I do this.' After all, only that former Hero of the South possessed perfect Future Prediction."

He took a deep breath.

"So, when I saw that guy... when I saw him truly walk a different path, have a legitimate livelihood, have a lover, and his eyes no longer held the bewilderment of someone living on the edge, but rather the contentment, the happiness and peace of having a family..."

"I just feel... very happy. Really, very happy."

He's finished speaking.

The room fell silent again.

The night grew deeper. The last few lights outside the window went out one by one, leaving only the moonlight, which dimly streamed in, casting faint shadows of the windowpanes on the floor.

Frieren put down the now completely dry towel. She shifted her position, got off the edge of the bed, and walked barefoot onto the cool floor to Lowell.

Then, she reached out, cupped his face in her hands, and made him look up at her.

Her fingers were still slightly damp and warm from her shower.

Her emerald green eyes stared intently into his eyes for several seconds.

Lowell.

"Um?"

"Okay, you're a good person, I know that."

She announced it in her usual calm and direct tone, as naturally as if she were saying, "It's a sunny day today."

Lowell paused for a moment, then chuckled and raised his hand to cover the hand that was cupping his cheek.

"What? Suddenly giving me a 'friend zone' card?"

"It wasn't sudden," Frieren shook her head and said seriously, "I've always known. It's just that today, I'm even more certain."

She paused, then added.

"And you don't need to be afraid."

Lowell looked at her.

Frieren blinked.

"Because I'm here. If someone you let go later harms someone else, I'll take care of them. You won't feel guilty."

She spoke as if it were a matter of course, as if it were a matter of course.

Lowell was stunned.

He stared at the calm face before him, a face that seemed to say, "Is there a problem?", for several seconds.

Then, he let out a low laugh from his chest. It started softly, then grew louder and louder, until it became an unrestrained, hearty laugh. His shoulders shook as he laughed, and then he raised his hand to wipe the tears from the corner of his eyes.

"Hahaha... Yes, yes. With you here, with Frieren here, what do I have to be afraid of?"

He smiled, pulled Frieren into his arms, hugged her tightly, and rested his chin on her silver hair, which smelled faintly of soap.

"My Frieren the most reliable."

Frieren was held in his arms, not moving much, just leaning against him quietly, and then whispering.

"Besides, Lowell's happiness makes me happy. So, let's be even happier."

Lowell tightened his arms and gave a muffled "hmm".

Fern sat to the side, watching the two embracing, her pale purple eyes calm and undisturbed. She picked up the comb from her lap and continued to comb her already neatly styled long hair, stroke after stroke.

After Lowell finished laughing and released Frieren, she put down the comb and spoke softly.

"I think I understand now."

Lowell and Frieren both looked at her.

Fern raised his head, his eyes clear.

"You're happy not because of him personally, but because you see that 'change' can really happen. Bad people can perhaps really become good people. There's a chance to turn back from the wrong path."

"And peace, perhaps, is built up little by little through many such 'turning back' and 'getting better' actions."

Her tone was calm.

"Although the wars you mentioned are far removed from my own time, I think I can understand your feelings to some extent."

Lowell looked at her with a gentle smile.

"Fern is really smart. She summarized it more clearly than I could have explained it myself."

Fern nodded and stood up.

"Well, it's getting late. We need to travel back to the academy tomorrow. Lady Frieren, Lady Lowell, please get some rest."

She took off her outer robe, straightened it, draped it over the back of the chair, and then lifted the covers and lay down on her bed.

"Good night."

"Goodnight, Fern," Lowell said.

Frieren also got out of Lowell's arms, went back to her side, climbed into bed, and burrowed under the covers.

"Good night."

Lowell also stood up, stretched, walked to the bedside, and lay down next to Frieren.

Fern reached out and turned off the last magic lamp on the bedside table.

The room was plunged into darkness.

The moonlight was clearer than before, casting long, quiet streaks of light across the floor through the window.

Lowell lay awake in the darkness, staring at the blurry outline of the ceiling.

After a while, he felt Frieren move beside him, and then a cool hand reached out, groped around, found his hand, and gently took it in hers.

He gripped it tightly with his hand behind his back.

"Lowell." Frieren's voice rang out softly from very close by.

"Um?"

"From now on, let me see your smile like that more often."

Lowell blinked in the darkness.

Then, he turned to face her, even though he could only see a blurry outline in the darkness.

"Okay," he said softly, with a hint of a smile.

"As long as Frieren is here, every day is a happy one."

Frieren hummed in agreement and said nothing more.

She held his hand and didn't let go.

His breathing gradually became steady and long.