Heading North

Northern Plateau, Ernst Region.

The wind swept across the open wilderness, carrying a biting, dry chill. The sky was a hazy, leaden white, hanging low.

It's so cold lately.

Fern wrapped her thick outer robe tighter around herself, the fur trim at the collar brushing against her chin. As she spoke, her breath quickly dissipated in the cold air.

Lowell walked a few steps ahead, turned around upon hearing this, and nodded.

"Okay, I'll take out the cotton-padded coat tonight."

Methode walked beside Fern, tilting her head slightly, her blue-violet eyes crinkling into crescents, her voice gentle.

"Miss Fern, I have a magic spell that makes people feel warm just by hugging them."

Her tone carried just the right amount of expectation.

"Want to give it a try?"

Fern turned his face, glanced at her with his pale purple eyes, and then calmly looked away.

"... Holding someone close is always a warm feeling, isn't it?"

Her voice was flat.

"I don't want to."

"What a pity..."

Methode sighed softly, a sigh that didn't reveal much genuine regret, but rather sounded more like a habitual, gentle expression.

Fern's gaze returned to Lowell's back as he walked ahead. She thought for a moment and then spoke.

"By the way, Lord Lowell."

"Um?"

When you mentioned "double standards" before, did you mean that your standards are different from others?

Fern's tone was thoughtful.

"Why do you always say you shouldn't do this or that, but when Lord Gluck claims to have done so many wrong things, you still try to comfort him?"

Lowell didn't stop.

"To put it simply," his voice drifted on the wind, "Because I want to."

He paused for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts for more formal language.

"To be serious, Gluck is a good person now. People are judged by their current situation."

He slowed his pace slightly, waiting for Fern to catch up, then turned to look at her. A casual smile played in his dark eyes.

As for why there's double standards—

He raised his hand and brushed a strand of hair that had been blown across his forehead by the wind, the movement deliberately carrying a touch of nonchalance.

"Because I'm used to being strict with myself and lenient with others."

He maintained that pose, the corners of his mouth turned up.

"I'm pretty charming like this, aren't I?"

Frieren, carrying the gilded magic book she'd bought from Weise, walked beside him. Hearing this, she glanced up at him, her emerald eyes calm and unwavering.

"This guy is copying Himmel's methods again."

Fern looked at Lowell's affected manner and remained silent for two seconds.

"I was a little touched at first," she muttered softly, "But now I'm not."

She looked away and gazed ahead at the road.

In the distance, on the boundary between the wasteland and the gray-white sky, the outlines of several low houses could be vaguely seen.

"Hey, is there a village ahead?"

Fern gazed at the shadows.

"Are there villages in places like this?"

Frieren followed her gaze.

"The Ernst Region is a relatively peaceful area with few powerful monsters, and the roads are well-maintained. It serves as a gateway connecting the Northern Plateau and the imperial territory."

She raised her hand and pointed to the distant, deep-colored outline of the rolling mountains.

"Once we cross that next mountain, we'll reach the imperial territory."

A hint of curiosity appeared in Fern's eyes.

"What kind of place is the Empire?"

"The largest of the Northern Countries," Frieren replied, "Possesses a powerful army, so its territory is quite safe. You probably won't need to fight monsters as frequently as before."

Fern nodded slightly.

"Really?" she said softly, a hint of relief in her voice, "That's really good..."

She didn't finish her sentence.

A slightly weary female voice broke in from nearby.

Are you adventurers?

The group turned to look.

A middle-aged woman was squatting in the weeds by the roadside. At her feet was an old bamboo basket containing some freshly dug tuberous plants, still covered in soil.

Lowell turned to face her and nodded.

Yes. Is there something you need?

When the woman saw him speak to her, she took half a step forward.

"If you are all very strong... I would like to entrust you with the task of defeating the monster."

"Lately, our crops are constantly being shredded by monsters. And our livestock are being killed every now and then..."

Fern turned to look at Frieren. Her pale purple eyes blinked, and she didn't speak, but her meaning was clear.

--Didn't you just say there aren't many monsters here?

Frieren caught her gaze, tilted her head slightly, and let her silver hair slide to one side.

"Hmm," she uttered a doubtful syllable, "Has the world changed?"

She looked at the woman again, her emerald eyes calm.

"Anyway, what does that monster look like?"

"It's strange... it has a body like steel. The villagers are helpless against it. Swords and blades can't even leave a mark on it."

She paused, then lowered her voice.

"Strangely, this monster never attacks people. It only destroys crops and steals livestock. But even so, it's enough to give us a headache..."

She rubbed her rough hands together, her voice even lower.

"That's why the Empire Army refused to send anyone to deal with it. They said that since the monster hadn't harmed anyone, the army couldn't be mobilized..."

Frieren listened without showing any expression.

"I see," she said.

"Although it's safe, there are still many powerful monsters in the Northern Plateau. The empire is probably reluctant to mobilize troops that won't harm the villagers in order to protect key areas."

Methode gave a soft "ah," her fingertips gracefully resting on her chin.

"Then what about the Norm Knights? They should also be able to deal with monsters, right?"

Lowell shook his head.

"While the Ernst Region serves as a buffer between the Northern Plateau and imperial territory, it is actually more under imperial control. The Norm Knights would likely find it rather inconvenient."

He crossed his arms.

"Unauthorized military intervention could trigger conflict between nations, even if it's just against monsters."

Fern frowned slightly.

"But isn't this still part of the Northern Plateau?"

"Where cultural spheres overlap," Lowell explained, with a hint of "that's the problem," "the power dynamics become blurred due to the movement of people. The result is that neither side can act in the name of the state."

He shrugged.

"Human rights are such a complicated matter."

Frieren's attention seemed to have shifted. She looked at the peasant woman, her clear, emerald eyes fixed on her.

"So, what is the reward?"

She asked directly.

Do you have a magic book?

The woman lowered her head and thought for a moment.

"A magic book... there probably aren't any decent ones in the village. Oh, right."

"I remember a really old one... I think it was a 'Magic Book That Makes Paper Airplanes Fly Farther'... I wonder if this one will work?"

She had barely finished speaking.

Frieren nodded decisively, her voice clear and crisp.

"Make a deal!"

The group followed the woman to a field.

The pumpkins, potatoes, and other crops in the field were still intact, showing patches of dark green and orange-yellow in the fading light.

"It's said that this is the last piece of farmland that hasn't been destroyed," the woman pointed.

Frieren hummed in agreement and squatted down by the edge of the field. Fern found a rock next to her and sat down, Lowell leaned against a dead tree not far away, and Methode and Liletta stood a little further back. The woman went home.

The sky gradually darkened.

The wind on the wasteland grew colder and sharper, whistling like knives against the cheeks. In the distance, scattered lights appeared in the villages, their dim yellow glow flickering slightly in the deep blue twilight.

The group remained crouched until night fell.

Fern suddenly raised his head, his pale purple eyes gazing into the darkness on the other side of the farmland.

"Huh, Lady Frieren, this magical reaction..."

Frieren turned her head to look in the same direction. Her emerald eyes reflected the faint light of the distant village in the night, and a look of understanding flashed across them.

"... I see," she said softly, her voice clear in the wind, "This reaction... it's not a monster."

In the darkness, a huge silhouette slowly emerged.

The creature resembled a large snake, its body pieced together from dark metal parts, the joints gleaming with a matte finish honed over the years. Yet it possessed four front paws, each ending not in sharp claws, but in metal spikes sharpened to the point of a spearhead. Most peculiarly, it carried a large, finely woven wicker basket on its back, with a few withered leaves hanging from its sides.

Frieren stood up and brushed the dirt off the hem of her robe.

"This is Golem from the Unified Empire era."

Fern also stood up, watching the slowly approaching metal construct.

"Unified Empire... that was a thousand years ago... can it still move?"

"Do you remember the barrier that was still in effect a thousand years ago?"

"I remember, but that was the Great Mage Flamme..."

Frieren nodded.

"This was also made by her. It's Golem she personally crafted during Flamme. If it's a military-grade model, that would be troublesome; you might not be able to handle it..."

Before he could finish speaking...

The Golem's four front paws suddenly moved.

"Shuashua--!"

The movement was so fast that it left only a blur. The metal cone blade sliced through the air, making a sharp whistling sound.

The perfectly intact pumpkins, potatoes, and a few low shrubs bearing fruit in the field were cut into evenly sized pieces in the blink of an eye. The cuts were neat and smooth, as if measured with the most precise ruler.

Fern watched this scene and remained silent for two seconds.

"... It's really just destroying crops. What's going on? Is it set up as a war machine to 'destroy enemy crops'?"

The Golem deftly used one of its front paws to rummage around and sweep the cut pumpkin pieces into the vine basket on its back.

Frieren watched its movements, tilting her head slightly, her silver hair sliding down to her shoulder. As if struck by a thought, her emerald eyes brightened.

"Ah, is that so?"

She strode toward the Golem.

Fern instinctively reached out. "Hey, Lady Frieren...!"

Frieren had reached the Golem. The massive metal construct stopped moving, and its head—if it could be called a head—turned toward her. Its face had no features, only a narrow, slit-like opening.

A steady sound, with a metallic, friction-like quality, came from the gap.

What would you like to order?

Frieren turned around and waved to the group.

"Come here, everyone. This basket used to hold ingredients must have been broken by someone. Because it's broken, the Golem has been stuck in the 'materials collection' process. But the collected materials can't be saved; they leak out through the broken part."

She reached out and patted the vine basket on the Golem's back. Where her fingertips touched, the vines showed obvious signs of breakage and repair, but the repairs were very rough, just a few haphazard bindings with straw rope.

"This thing... is a cooking Golem. Although I don't know why it was reactivated, it's trying very hard to recreate the dish that someone ordered from it before."

Lowell walked over and looked at the silent metal construct.

"After all, Flamme said, 'Without someone like this, the day of world peace would be very inconvenient for people.' That's exactly the kind of person she is."

Frieren raised her right hand, palm up.

A soft white light gathered in her palm, like a small, warm, breathing fire. She gently placed her hand on the damaged area of the wicker basket on the Golem's back.

The light flowed out, spreading and permeating along the texture of the vines. The break quickly healed, the repaired straw rope turned into light dust and dissipated, and new, resilient vines grew from the break, intertwining and weaving, repairing the damaged area as if it were new in the blink of an eye.

The Golem froze for a few seconds.

Then, the wicker basket on its back trembled slightly. Its four spear-like forepaws lashed out again—

"Swish!"

It recut the pumpkin chunks it had just collected, its movements smoother and more precise than before. Then, it produced a heavy iron pot from somewhere and placed it in front of it. With a flick of its front paws, it swept all the pumpkin chunks into the pot.

The end of the other forepaw deforms, extending a slender metal stirring rod that probes into the pot and begins to stir slowly and rhythmically.

Steam quickly rose from the pot, releasing the sweet aroma of pumpkin mixed with a pungent, spice-like scent. A few minutes later, the Golem stopped stirring, picked up the iron pot with its forepaws, and steadily handed the thick, steaming pumpkin soup to Frieren.

"Enjoy your meal."

Frieren took the pot—the handle had been magically adjusted to the right temperature—and looked down at it. The soup was a rich, orange-yellow color, with a few specks of oil floating on the surface.

She leaned closer, carefully blew on it, and then took a small sip.

"Phew..." She squinted her eyes contentedly, a clear cat-like smile curving her lips. "That was really good."

She looked up at the Golem that was silently awaiting feedback.

"You've worked hard," she said, her voice softer than usual, "You've completed your task."

The light from the observation hole on the Golem's head flickered almost imperceptibly. Then, it slowly lowered its body, tucked its four front paws in, and gently closed the vine basket on its back. The entire massive metal body gradually came to a standstill in the night, finally transforming into a silent sculpture that seemed to have always been meant to stand there.

The wind still blows across the wilderness, carrying the chill of the distant snow-capped mountains.

But along the edge of the field, the steam from the pot of pumpkin soup rose gently, tracing brief but warm white streaks in the cool night.