Faith, Death, and the Cathedral

Heiter is dead.

He died on an ordinary evening.

Nothing special happened that day.

After lunch, he sat in the chair in the yard as usual, basking in the sun. Fern was still learning True Magic from Frieren, and the magic book that supposedly contained the True Magic of immortality and resurrection had been tacitly tossed aside.

As the sun gradually set, Fern came out of the house, intending to call Heiter back for dinner, but found that he had already quietly closed his eyes.

Heiter leaned back in his chair, his expression no different from when he usually took a nap. The setting sun shone on his aged face, casting a warm golden hue on his white hair.

At first, Fern thought he was just asleep, but when she called him several times without getting a response, and when Lady Frieren and Lady Lorenzo came to the courtyard and stood silently beside her, she slowly realized what had happened.

Just as many poets leave behind beautiful verses at dusk, Heiter also left a letter at this juncture of day and night:

I have been preparing this letter for a long time. By the time you see it, if you are allowed, I will probably have already gone to the heavens where the Goddess resides.

Having been a monk for so many years, though I wouldn't call myself particularly devout, I understand that death is not a disease that needs to be cured. After living out one's full life, one should naturally leave the rest of the path to younger people.

Looking back on my life, to be honest, not many things were of my own choosing. It was Himmel's invitation that led me to begin my travels, and it was only after being strongly urged by others that I became an archbishop.

But perhaps this is fate. After all, although the Goddess is kind, she also enjoys playing tricks on people. Being tricked by fate can be considered a human weakness, but sometimes, just surrendering oneself to the clear stream can also be a great pleasure in life.

Frieren, thank you for staying to teach Fern.

I did take advantage of your reluctance to refuse True Magic research at first, please forgive me for that, but now that Fern has the strength to live on her own, I can finally entrust her to you with peace of mind.

You always feel that human time is too short.

But in reality, for humans, as long as they accomplish what they want to do within a limited time, that can already be considered a long life.

I also want to thank you again, Mr. Lorenzo.

What you gave me was never an unattainable immortality, but rather an extra period of time that should never have existed in the first place.

I used this time, free from illness, to watch Fern grow up, to watch her learn True Magic, and to watch her finally gain the power to protect herself. For me, being a part of it was a gift that far exceeded my expectations.

Finally, there's Fern.

Please forgive my cowardice and avoidance; I cannot say these things to you face to face.

But if I saw a sad expression on your face, I might not be able to accept death as calmly as I am now.

Raising children seems to be such a contradictory and strange thing. Even though you know from the beginning that you will have to part ways one day, you still can't help but worry when that moment actually comes.

You are already an excellent True Magic.

But being able to stand on one's own doesn't mean that one has to take on everything from now on. When encountering insurmountable difficulties, one can ask Frieren for help or rely on Mr. Lorenzo.

Don't be afraid of parting, and don't refuse to build new relationships with others because you're worried about losing them.

So, go on a trip.

I want to see cities, forests, and oceans I've never seen before, to meet more people, and to experience more memorable things.

If you want to take a break from this chaotic world, why not come back and tell me about your journey? Although I probably won't be able to respond to you in person by then, I will still listen attentively to all your stories.

May the Goddess bless you, and may you have a life that truly belongs to you.

--Heiter

That night, news of Heiter's death reached the Holy City.

First, the Holy City Cathedral rang its farewell bells, and then churches all over the continent responded in succession. The long, resonant sound traveled through cities, villages, and wilderness, spreading the news of this legendary figure's passing to every piece of land inhabited by humankind.

As a monk who once fought alongside the hero against the Demon King, and also a former archbishop of the Church, Heiter's funeral could not possibly be kept quiet.

A few days later, the road leading to the church was crowded with senior monks from all over the mainland, people who had received help from Heiter, representatives of various national organizations, and many people who came from other cities.

Heiter's coffin was placed in the center of the cathedral's main hall, just as it had been when Himmel died.

The white coffin was embroidered with the Goddess's emblem, and beside it lay his once-used staff and a well-worn holy book.

Frieren stood at the front of the crowd, looking at the familiar-looking setup before her.

Many years ago, Himmel's coffin was placed in the same spot, and Heiter stood by in his monk's robes, only realizing, somewhat belatedly, that his short journey had truly ended when he heard the cries of those around him.

The church seems to have changed little; the stained glass still divides the sunlight into different colors, and the reliefs on the pews and pillars are still the same as we remember.

Those who stood beside the coffin to bid farewell to Himmel back then are now lying inside it themselves.

For her, the years between the two funerals did not seem as long as she had imagined, but for a human being, that was enough time to live out the rest of their life. She had thought that after experiencing Himmel's death, she should be better at dealing with parting than before.

But now, standing before Heiter's coffin, I realize that such a custom doesn't exist at all.

Even though he knew long ago that human lifespan was limited, and even though he had noticed years ago that Heiter's body was gradually weakening, the moment of his death still seemed incredibly sudden.

The people who sat at the dinner table chatting yesterday are now unable to respond to any calls, and the memories of traveling together become exceptionally clear at this moment...

In his youth, Heiter would always find various reasons to drink. Despite being a monk in the party, he often needed Himmel to remind him to pray seriously. He would get a hangover once a week on average, and after battles, he would solemnly declare that moderate drinking would help strengthen the protection bestowed by the Goddess.

Those things happened many years ago, but now when I think back on them, it feels like they just happened a short time ago.

"What a drunken monk he is."

Frieren silently placed the bouquet next to the sacred text in Heiter.

Then, the mourners walked to the coffin one by one, offering bouquets and prayers. Fern stood in the closest position to the coffin, quietly listening to the strangers recount what Heiter had done.

The funeral prayers officially began at noon.

The Archbishop of the Holy City stood before the altar and recited a farewell prayer for the deceased in Heiter. The entire church fell silent, the chanting mingling with the distant, still-ringing bells.

Fern lowered her head, her hands clasped tightly to her chest.

It was as if the Goddess had finally responded and come to welcome the monk who was not very devout, but who had dedicated his life to the world.

The moment the prayer ended, sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows high in the church, falling on the emblem covering the coffin, while specks of dust danced freely in the air.