Bronze Statue

Bonie Village, the first large village on the border of the Imperial territory.

Fern stopped and looked at the scene before him.

The main street, paved with stone slabs, is wide, with densely packed wooden and stone houses on both sides, mostly two or three stories high, with flowering potted plants on the windowsills.

The shop signs swayed gently in the afternoon sun, displaying a bakery, a blacksmith shop, a general store, and a clothing store. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, the faint sound of metal forging, and a dense sense of human presence that was distinct from the wasteland.

Pedestrians on the street were mostly walking hurriedly, carrying their purchases and wearing bright expressions on their faces as the festival approached.

The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, the faint sound of metal being hammered, and a fresh, human scent that was different from the wilderness.

"We've finally arrived in the Imperial territory."

"Fern said softly."

Frieren walked beside her, her gaze sweeping across the street.

"Yeah, how are you feeling?"

"Hmm..." Fern tilted his head slightly, "It's clearly a village, but it's as bustling as a big town."

Lowell followed behind the two, arms crossed.

"Hmm... I remember this is the Subjugation Festival, right? It's the day to commemorate the successful defeat of the Demon King. Look, preparations for the festival are everywhere."

Methode walked behind her, her blue-violet eyes curving slightly.

"Yes, I've heard there's such a festival here."

Frieren quickened her pace noticeably. She turned her head, her silver hair cascading over her shoulder in an arc, her bright green eyes sparkling.

"Maybe we'll get to eat something delicious!"

"Oh!" Fern raised his hands as well, his voice revealing a rare hint of youthful exuberance.

Lowell looked at them, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"Girls really do get all energetic when it comes to shopping and eating. Even though Frieren usually the type who'd rather lie down than sit up, like me..."

Methode's fingertips gracefully rested on her chin, and in her other hand, a delicately designed padlock bag appeared out of nowhere, which she gently slung over her arm.

"Hehe... When it comes to enjoying life, magicians and ordinary girls are no different."

She turned to the silent Liletta beside her and extended her hand.

"Miss Liletta, let's go for a walk together. You probably don't eat many of the snacks during the Human Festival, do you?"

Liletta glanced at her with her golden eyes and nodded.

"Okay, sure."

Fern looked at Frieren again.

"So, Lady Frieren, where shall we go first?"

"Kindness..."

Just as Frieren was about to answer, the conversation of several villagers drifted over.

A middle-aged man carrying a bamboo basket was talking to a seven or eight-year-old boy beside him, pointing towards the depths of the street.

"Remember, touch the statue of the hero Himmel in the center of the square; it will bring you good luck. I'll take you there to touch it later."

The little boy looked up and nodded vigorously.

Frieren's eyes widened slightly, and the corners of her mouth immediately turned up, revealing an expectant smile.

"Let's go to the square, I want to touch it."

Fern blinked.

"This must be a rumor..."

"Who cares?" Frieren said, already striding in that direction, her voice light. "It's free to touch it, and I feel like I'd be missing out if I didn't."

Fern was silent for two seconds.

"... I think I understand why you always get bitten by the Mimic."

Lowell chuckled softly, walked over to Frieren, and reached out to ruffle her silver hair.

"Hmm... As expected, my Frieren is the cutest. What's wrong with that? Feel free to touch her if you want."

Fern turned his head, his pale purple eyes looking at him, his tone steady.

"What's cute about that? It feels like Lady Frieren is the kind of person who would be easily fooled by a roadside 'free lottery' stall."

Lowell straightened his back, made a gesture as if he were holding the hilt of a sword with his right hand, and put on a half-joking, slightly sharp smile.

"Haha... let's see if they can take a beating. My sword isn't going to be any less effective!"

Fern looked at the pose he had struck and sighed softly.

"Alright... Anyway, hurry up and catch up with Frieren, she's already disappeared."

She looked ahead at the street. The crowd was bustling, and Frieren's silver-white figure flashed through the gaps and turned into another side road.

"So many people... Wait, Frieren, we've gone the wrong way! Himmel's statue is over there!"

In the distance, Frieren seemed to hear the shouts, paused, and turned to run in another direction.

Fern jogged to catch up, his voice tinged with helplessness.

"Seriously... it feels like taking a kid who always runs off to the street."

Lowell, Methode, and Liletta followed. The group walked through the bustling streets, past several stalls filled with festive decorations, and finally arrived at the square in the center of the village.

The square was spacious, paved with bluestone slabs, with rows of benches along the edges. In the very center stood a bronze statue, its surface gleaming with a somber metallic sheen in the afternoon sun.

The group walked up to the bronze statue.

Frieren looked up.

Fern also raised his head, his pale purple eyes quietly observing.

The figure is clad in ornate and elaborate armor, with shoulder armor sculpted into the heads of roaring lions and breastplates covered in reliefs of vines and swords. He rests his hands on an overly ornate two-handed greatsword, the hilt inlaid with a large gemstone. His face is sculpted as serious, with furrowed brows and downturned lips, exuding a heavy sense of majesty.

The hairstyle was indeed like Himmel's, combed back, but the face shape, features, expression...

Not at all like it.

Fern's lips twitched slightly.

"... It doesn't look like it at all."

Her voice was very soft.

"The face doesn't look like him, and the demeanor is... This shouldn't be the Hero of the South, right? Is it really Himmel?"

Frieren didn't speak, but continued to gaze at the bronze statue, her emerald eyes reflecting the cold, hard luster of the metal.

Just then, a familiar voice came from the side.

The voice was young, bright, and carried an undisguised narcissism, as well as a clear sense of dissatisfaction.

"Hmm... As expected, this bronze statue doesn't resemble me at all! It doesn't even capture a tenth of my handsome appearance... no, a hundredth! Damn it... where did my original bronze statue go...?"