A Spacetime That Might Exist (5)

Methode gently stroked Frieren's head, her fingertips caressing her silvery hair. Frieren lowered her head contentedly, her gaze fixed on the magic book in her hands, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Fern stood behind them, her pale purple eyes fixed on them, her little mouth pouting unhappily.

"Miss Frieren," Methode's voice trembled slightly with a hint of expectation, "May I hold you a little? Lady Serie has never let me hold her before."

Frieren didn't even look up, her smile unchanged.

Do whatever you want.

Methode's eyes lit up instantly.

"You can do whatever you want!?"

She pulled her arm around Frieren's head and hugged it tightly, rubbing her cheek against the soft top of her head with satisfaction. Frieren let her hug her, her gaze still glued to the pages of the book, as if she were the one being hugged.

Fern's lips curled up even lower.

She stepped forward, reached out and grabbed the fabric at the back of Frieren's robe, pulling it back forcefully.

It couldn't be moved.

Frieren was pulled so hard that she swayed, finally managing to look away from her book a little, her voice muffled.

"Wha... what happened...?"

Methode ignored her, still immersed in the satisfaction of the embrace, and tightened her arms around her.

Seeing this, Fern loosened his robe, bent down, put his arms under Frieren's knees, picked up her lower body, and began to drag her backward with force.

So, Frieren was pulled horizontally.

Her upper body was tightly embraced by Methode, her head buried against her chest. Her lower body was held by Fern, her feet off the ground. She was like a rope being pulled at both ends, suspended in mid-air.

"No, don't do this," Frieren's muffled voice came from Methode's arms, slightly distorted by the pressure, "I'm being torn apart..."

Just then...

All three people stopped moving at the same time.

Methode and Fern let go almost simultaneously. Frieren landed lightly, steadied herself, and snapped the spellbook shut in her hand.

The air around us seemed to freeze for a moment.

In the distance, two massive and undisguised surges of magical energy swept across the entire area like boulders thrown into a still lake. The surges carried a clear provocation and fighting spirit, directly colliding with the three people's senses without any detours.

Fern raised his eyes and looked in the direction from which the fluctuations came, his pale purple eyes narrowing slightly.

"This..."

Methode had composed herself, and her voice had returned to normal.

"Indeed, it has been detected."

Frieren raised a hand to tidy her disheveled silver hair, her emerald eyes gazing in a certain direction in the sky, a calm, slightly "I knew it" smile curving her lips upwards.

"They're Demons. And the really warlike kind. They don't seem afraid at all, even knowing that the three of us are all capable mages."

High in the sky, in the distance.

Nebel and Zolida stood in mid-air, their black robes fluttering slightly in the wind. The magical probe they had just conducted was their doing.

Zolida, who was wearing an eye patch, tilted his head slightly.

"They've spotted us too."

Nebel clasped his hands together in front of him, his tone calm and even.

"Yes. Let's begin. Mist-Summoning Magic."

His lips moved slightly, uttering short syllables.

The next second, thick, viscous, and magically potent mist erupted from his body, spreading and expanding rapidly downwards like a living thing, instantly engulfing a vast forest below. Trees, rocks, paths—everything became blurred and distorted in the churning sea of mist, eventually disappearing completely.

The visible distance was compressed to the limit, and even the perception of magic was like being stuck in a quagmire, becoming sluggish and difficult to extend.

Frieren stood in the suddenly descending thick fog, her emerald green eyes scanning her surroundings.

"It's a fog made of magic; it's significantly blocking our vision and magic detection."

Before he could finish speaking...

"Whoosh--!"

A sharp whistling sound came from different directions simultaneously! Several condensed magical slashes sliced through the mist, arriving in front of him in an instant!

Frieren and Fern dodged to the side almost simultaneously, their figures disappearing into the mist. Methode- Dai leaped in another direction, the hem of her black dress flashing by in the fog.

The attack missed, blasting up a patch of earth and rocks on the ground.

Frieren and Fern leaned against a thick tree trunk. The fog was so thick that even their outlines were somewhat blurred.

"They've separated us from Methode," Frieren's voice was soft but clear. "They've got some skills. Watch out for aerial attacks."

Fern gripped his staff tightly, his pale purple eyes scanning the mist-shrouded sky above him warily.

"Lady Frieren, something's strange," she whispered. "Both Demons are flying in the air. Is that Flight Magic?"

"What's wrong?" Frieren asked casually. "I've said it before, until forty years ago, the skies were ruled by Demons, and humans couldn't fly back then. What's so strange about that?"

"Didn't you say that most Demons only dedicate their entire lives to researching one type of magic...?"

"Fern," Frieren's voice remained steady, "Do you think walking is a kind of magic?"

Fern paused for a moment.

"Just like walking," Frieren continued, "Flight Magic isn't really 'magic' for Demons. It's more like an instinct, or rather, a racial talent that has solidified over a long period of evolution. So, encounters with Demons in the wild often turn into this kind of scene."

As if to confirm her words, above the sea of mist, bursts of magical energy and sharp whistles cutting through the air came from different heights and angles, sometimes near, sometimes far. The attacks fell, exploding nearby and splashing mud and broken leaves.

"These guys are really used to fighting like this," Frieren listened intently, "It's exactly the same way we fought the Demons Demon King's Army decades ago."

In the distance, deep within the fog, came a slightly muffled boom, followed by the buzzing of intense magical collisions.

Frieren turned her head and looked in that direction.

"It seems Methode has already sparred with one of them." She turned her gaze to Fern, "Fern, the other one is yours."

Fern blinked.

"... Why?"

"It's a mission for First-Class Mage," Frieren said matter-of-factly. "Fern is the First-Class Mage."

"At a time like this, you still..."

"It's alright, they're not an insurmountable opponent." Frieren smiled, a hint of encouragement in her smile, then her gaze suddenly shifted to behind Fern. "--Ah, watch out."

A cold sweat instantly broke out on Fern's back.

She didn't even have time to turn around; instinctively, she held her staff to her side, and magic surged forth.

"Buzz!"

A honeycomb-shaped, pale purple Defensive Magic circle instantly unfolded beside her, its structure dense.

Almost at the same instant the magic circle was formed, a dark beam of magic, hidden in the thick fog and silent, slammed into us!

"Clang--!"

A deafening explosion! The defensive array flashed and rippled violently, barely managing to block the attack. The aftershocks made Fern's arms go numb, and he slid half a step to the side.

She took a quick breath, steadied herself, and looked at Frieren, her face pale.

"See?" Frieren's voice was faster than usual, "We managed to defend against it."

Fern shook his head.

"... No, it was purely by chance that I managed to defend against that attack. I didn't even notice the trajectory of the attack. If Lady Frieren hadn't reminded me, I wouldn't have had time to defend myself. I would be dead."

She raised her eyes and looked in the direction from which the attack had come, though all she saw was swirling, thick fog.

"My opponent is far stronger than me. Their perception, Concealment, and the intensity of that attack just now... they're not even in the same league."

Frieren looked at her, her emerald eyes quietly reflecting her slightly tense profile. Then, Frieren smiled again, a faint smile that inexplicably reassured people.

I don't think so.

Her voice was calm.

"Don't worry, Fern can win."

Thick fog swirled, slowly engulfing the two figures. In the distance, the tremors and explosions of magic, like deep heartbeats, echoed continuously through the silent forest.