Indulgence

(Eisen's Illusion)

He was standing in a familiar, massive stone hall, imbued with the rugged style of the dwarves. The air was filled with the aroma of ale and roasted meat, and deafening cheers and clinking glasses echoed all around him.

Standing before him was his close friend, the dwarf warrior Ransen, whose weathered face now radiated a restrained yet genuinely bright smile. Ransen patted Eisen's strong shoulder firmly, his voice deep and resonant:

"Eisen, you really did it... You defeated the Demon King! You are the pride of our dwarves, the strongest warrior without a doubt!" A hint of excitement and pride flickered in Ransen's calm eyes.

Eisen's bronze face was flushed with the effects of alcohol. He touched the edge of his sturdy horned helmet somewhat sheepishly, habitually maintaining the humility of a dwarf. His voice was deep, yet carried a subtle, barely perceptible satisfaction at being recognized by a close friend. "You flatter me, Ransen. There are always stronger players out there; I am still far from being a match for you."

"You're still so modest." Ransen took a sip of his drink and stroked his beard. "In terms of pure physique, there might be a few freaks, but most of them fell on the road to the Demon King's Castle... Only you, Eisen, you and your companions made it to the end and completely defeated that Demon King, didn't you?"

He leaned closer, his tone becoming more serious and emotional:

"Do you remember what you taught me back then? 'A warrior's honor is important, but sometimes being too obsessed with it can lead to the death of yourself and your comrades. Only by surviving can you protect more.' It was those words that helped me let go of unnecessary stubbornness in countless perilous situations, saving my life and allowing me to drink this celebratory toast with you today! So, don't be modest, Eisen, you who defeated the Demon King are a living legend, the strongest warrior!"

Looking into his friend's sincere eyes and hearing his resounding affirmation, Eisen's usually tightly pursed lips, like cracks in rock, finally slowly and irrepressibly curved upwards into a clear smile, revealing a genuinely joyful expression that mixed with emotion, relief, and a great sense of accomplishment. He raised a wooden wine glass almost as large as his head and clinked it heavily against Ransen's:

"Really... Haha... Good! Cheers to victory!"

The illusion rippled like water, and the scenes shifted silently.

The harsh sunlight softened, and the aroma of ale was replaced by a rich floral fragrance.

The Priest Heiter, his young face devoid of the usual flush from heavy drinking, wore a rare, clear smile. He was carefully placing a slightly crooked wreath of wildflowers on the head of the horned helmet in Eisen.

Eisen didn't refuse; he even bent his short, stocky body slightly to cooperate, a hint of clumsy yet genuine pleasure appearing on his bronze face. He tried shaking his head, and the petals on the wreath trembled gently.

Then, Eisen also squatted down and, with his large hands, which were used to wielding battle axes, somewhat clumsily but extremely earnestly braided a flower wreath, which he handed to Heiter. Heiter laughed as he took it and put it on his messy hair.

The two chased and played like children in the flower field. Heiter deliberately tripped and fell, Eisen tried to pull him up, but they ended up tumbling together in the soft blossoms, laughing loudly and startling a few butterflies. Sunlight shone on them, and the flower wreaths tilted, yet they were filled with pure, unadulterated joy.

Not far away, Ruby watched this scene, first making a "gross" sound and then a face that said, "Two old men playing this is disgusting," but a hint of envy flashed deep in her emerald eyes. She subconsciously looked at Himmel beside her.

Himmel's handsome face wore a gentle smile, his blue hair shimmering like jewels in the sunlight. As if reading Ruby's mind, he magically produced an exquisitely woven crown adorned with tiny blue flowers from behind him and gently placed it on Ruby's fiery red curls. "It suits you perfectly, Ruby."

Ruby's face instantly flushed a blush brighter than any flower. She lowered her head, fidgeted a little, and then pulled out a vibrant wreath she had prepared beforehand—woven from sturdy grass stems and small blue flowers—from behind her back. She tiptoed and, somewhat flustered, hurriedly placed it around Himmel's neck. "Simmel, Himmel, too!"

The camera freezes. Amidst the fluttering petals, Eisen's hearty smile, Heiter's cheerful laughter, Himmel's gentle gaze, and Ruby's shy yet happy face appear together in the frame. The wreaths on their heads and necks shimmer briefly and brilliantly in the sunlight.

The hearty smile on his bronze face gradually settled, transforming into a deep sense of satisfaction and peace.

He closed his eyes.

Eisen is lost.

(Linié's Illusion)

This was a dark yet magnificent hall, with an eerie style, Burning with ghostly blue flames. Linié —a girl with pink twin tails—sat enthroned on a tall and menacing throne constructed of black crystal and pale bones. The air was filled with the scent of sulfur and old blood, yet strangely mixed with a hint of sweet fruitiness.

She was still wearing the same simple clothes, and her expression remained the same as always, devoid of any emotion. Her deep blue eyes gazed calmly ahead. This extremely incongruous contrast made her seem less like a Demons queen ruling over a region and more like a bewildered doll forced onto an adult's throne, exuding a strange and endearing contrast.

Beneath the throne, a figure knelt on one knee, her posture utterly respectful. It was none other than "Seven Sages of Destruction" Aura! But at this moment, her face lacked its usual indifference and arrogance, replaced by an almost fanatical devotion.

She held a silver platter high in both hands. On the platter was not some magical gem or precious offering, but an enormous, bright red apple that looked juicy and flawless.

Aura's voice rang with the excitement of presenting a treasure. "Lady Linié! These are the finest apples, the best quality I've ever collected, from all over the continent! Please enjoy!"

Linié, seated on her throne, fixed her gaze on the apple, her deep blue pupils flashing almost imperceptibly for a second. She nodded slightly and, in her signature flat, monotone voice, gave the command, "Hmm. Feed me."

"Yes! I will obey your command! This is my greatest honor!" Aura was so excited that she almost cried. She carefully crawled forward on her knees and, with the gentlest movements, cut the huge apple into small pieces, then respectfully, as if performing some kind of sacred ritual, fed it to Linié's mouth.

Linié ate in small bites, her cheeks puffing slightly, and a faint, almost imperceptible glimmer of satisfaction seemed to flash in her deep blue eyes.

(Lowell's Illusion)

"Boyue, from now on... the Han Dynasty and the Northern Expedition will depend on you..." A weak voice, yet still filled with boundless wisdom and regret, rang out beside the bed.

"General, with the Prime Minister gone... what am I to do?" The young emperor's sobs sounded helpless and terrified.

Lowell found himself standing beside the bed, where the man called "Boyue," dressed in full armor with tears in his eyes, tightly held the hand of the elderly man on the bed, who was nearing the end of his life and wearing a feather fan and turban. The emperor, on the other hand, looked at him with dependent and panicked eyes.

"Tsk... Is this never going to end?" Lowell felt a surge of irritation, a slight dizziness creeping into his soul. "From imperial ambitions to the weighty responsibility of entrusting a child to an heir... this illusion is layered upon layer..."

Images of Frieren possibly being trapped in other illusions flashed through his mind, intensifying his anxiety. "And with each level I break through, my judgment seems to be imperceptibly weakened... Although I can still recognize that these are illusions, the allure of these scenes is strangely increasing."

He raised his hand, and magic began to gather at his fingertips, preparing to forcefully break through as he had done before. However, looking at the expectant and regretful eyes of "Zhuge Liang" on the bed, at Jiang Wei's grief and Liu Shan's helplessness, the complex knot in his heart stemming from "historical regrets" and "entrustment of responsibilities" in his long life made him hesitate for a moment.

"Ugh, troublesome..." He took a deep breath, suppressing the inexplicable turmoil in his heart, and forced himself to concentrate.