Mental Image

(Himmel's Illusion)

The Royal Capital Square was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. In the distance, the outline of the statue erected to commemorate Himmel and her companions' successful defeat of the Demon King was gilded. A sweet, happy atmosphere filled the air, as if even the wind carried a warm blessing.

At this moment, Himmel was kneeling on one knee, the ring in her hand, symbolizing her vow, shimmering breathtakingly in the setting sun. Before her, Ruby lowered her head slightly, her fiery red curls making her face flushed, her blue eyes filled with shyness and almost overflowing anticipation, her hands nervously clasped in front of her, waiting for that sacred moment to arrive.

"... Ruby?"

"Hey! Himmel! What are you standing there for!" Heiter's loud, teasing voice broke the delicate pause. "Hurry up! If you're a man, just get to the point!"

The surrounding crowd erupted in good-natured laughter and jeers.

"The brave man is cowardly!"

"Looks like proposing marriage takes even more courage than defeating the Demon King! Haha!"

"Hey! I'm much braver than the Hero in this respect! Geloli! Marry me! This is my lifelong request as a brave knight!"

"Oh dear! What are you saying, Goodwin? There are so many people, but..."

Himmel's gaze shifted from Ruby's blissful face to the enormous, lifelike statue in the center of the plaza depicting the four Hero Party in triumph—a scene he had imagined countless times after successfully defeating the Demon King. Everything before him was as perfect as the most dazzling yet fragile glass dream.

But that's not right.

A faint yet piercing voice is screaming from the depths of my heart.

"No... I remember," he murmured to himself, a flicker of confusion and struggle crossing his blue eyes, like silt suddenly rising from the bottom of clear water. "I should be... fighting. With whom? Where?"

This thought, like a pebble thrown into a still lake, stirred up ripples that Swirl outwards. The picture of happiness before my eyes seemed to fluctuate imperceptibly and blur for a moment.

He looked at Ruby, who showed a slight unease at his pause, her shy demeanor enough to Melt even the hardest heart. Himmel took a deep breath, trying to suppress the unease in his heart, and his reassuring, gentle smile returned. He slightly withdrew the hand holding the ring, his tone filled with sincere apology:

"Ruby, I'm sorry, could you wait Himmel?" He gently held Ruby's slightly cold hand, gazing into her eyes. "This proposal... I'll definitely make it up to you later with the most perfect one. I promise, okay?"

Ruby paused for a moment, her long eyelashes trembling, then her blush deepened. She nodded vigorously, her voice barely audible yet full of trust. "Okay... okay... no matter how long, Ruby will wait for Himmel..."

Even if it's an illusion, he doesn't want Ruby get hurt.

After calming Ruby, Himmel stood up, his sharp gaze sweeping across the square. He spotted Frieren and Lowell standing a short distance away in the crowd, quietly watching them.

He strode through the fake crowd and stood before the two. In the illusion, Frieren remained indifferent to the surrounding commotion, while Lowell leaned against a stone pillar with his usual lazy, aloof smile.

"Frieren, Lowell," Himmel's voice was low and carried an undeniable seriousness, "Tell me, this is an illusion, isn't it? How am I supposed to get out of here?"

"Frieren's " emerald eyes turned to him, as if sensing something, before replying in her usual calm tone, "My magical perception indicates that the surrounding magical flow is stable and self-consistent, no different from the composition of reality. Based on the information available, this is reality."

Himmel frowned slightly and looked at Lowell.

Lowell chuckled, raising a hand to scratch his perpetually messy black hair. "An illusion? If this is already a sophisticated illusion capable of deceiving even your senses, how could a warrior like you, who thinks with his sword and muscles, possibly break through this level of Mental Magic? This isn't your area of expertise."

He paused, a meaningful smile playing on his lips, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Himmel's waist. "However... illusions can distort vision, deceive perception, and even manipulate memories, but... you should still be able to feel your sword, right?"

Upon hearing this, Himmel paused slightly, then a knowing smile appeared on his handsome face. The smile was like sunlight breaking through the clouds, washing away the last trace of hesitation and becoming incredibly clear and resolute.

"It seems... so it is," he murmured, as if responding to Lowell, or perhaps making a vow to himself.

He stopped looking at the vivid illusion before him, stopped listening to the clamor of "blessings," and slowly and resolutely closed his eyes, completely shutting out all external distractions—the illusion of happiness, the voices of his companions, and even his own lingering attachment to that longing.

His world was plunged into darkness and silence.

Consciousness sank to the deepest part of his heart, like diving into the bottom of a dark lake. There, he no longer relied on his eyes or ears, but only on the purest intuition and connection to feel.

He sensed it.

The longsword that accompanied him on his conquests, a symbol of courage and oath, hung silently in his consciousness. Its blade was cold, yet connected to his blood, as if it were an extension of his limbs.

It lacked the ornate decorations bestowed by the illusionary realm, bearing only the subtle scratches left by countless slashes against demons, and the indelible, faint aura of malevolence that had settled after bathing in Demons blood. It remained silent, yet emitted a deep and clear hum that only he could "hear." The hum was neither loud nor boastful, but simply existed steadily and firmly, like the solid ground beneath his feet, like the steady beating of his heart in his chest.

Is it a false Hero's Sword? No, this companion, etched with the marks of real battle, is his only proof. He must become a true hero, and then this sword in his hand will forever be the Hero's Sword cuts through the darkness.

In the illusion, Himmel stood still with her eyes closed.

In reality, Himmel stood silently with her eyes closed.

The illusion almost overlapped with the real Himmel.

In the illusion, his hand rested on his empty waist.

In reality, his hand was on the hilt of the sword.

Reality: Frozen Hall.

The enormous dome, made of endless ice and snow, had completely closed in, sealing the entire Hero Party within. Inside the dome, the light was dim, with only the faint glow emanating from the ice and snow itself, and the holy light shield supported by the Heiter, which flickered and swayed precariously under absolute cold and immense pressure.

Beyond the shield lay an almost solidified, deathly cold, with countless sharp icicles growing and spreading along the inner wall of the dome, like the bars of a cage, slowly pressing inward. Inside the shield, the temperature was so low that breath froze instantly, and the motionless figures resembled eternally frozen ice sculptures. Only their faint, almost imperceptible heartbeats and breaths proved that life had not completely departed.

Heiter knelt on the ground, his hands pressed tightly against the Holy Scripture that maintained the shield. His arms trembled violently from overexertion, his teeth were clenched, and his face was as pale as paper. Sweat that had just seeped from his forehead froze into ice beads. The magic power within him was like a stream about to dry up, and the shield's range was compressed to barely cover a few people at the core. The "crunching" sound of ice and snow being squeezed out of the edges was constant and made one's teeth ache.

"Still resisting, you stubborn monk?"

A clear and icy voice pierced through the thick ice, carrying a hint of mockery and a subtle surprise. It reached Heiter's ears; it was Snow Witch Monet. Her voice was faint and distorted by the ice and snow, yet it remained clear.

"My 'Eternal Silence Snow-Burial Dome' seal, combined with Grausam's 'Paradise Transference' magic, has never been broken by any living being. Give up, turn into an ice sculpture in this eternal slumber, and become part of my collection. Isn't that also a kind of final resting place?"

Heiter abruptly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes glaring in the direction of the sound, though all he could see was a blurry ice wall. A hoarse, bellows-like growl escaped his throat, each word seemingly strained with all his might, accompanied by another violent flash of the shield:

"Ha... How many times do I have to say it... you... Bingbing Demons... my companions... have... countless times... turned the impossible... into the possible!"

His voice, though weak, carried an almost religious, burning steadfastness, like the first flame of life.

"This time... will be no exception! Just you wait and see!!"