Potion

After completing the mission and receiving the agreed-upon payment, the four of them did not linger in the lakeside town. They quickly packed their bags and set off again on their journey north.

It can only be said that there was a reason why border cities chose to close their borders to the Northern Countries.

Less than a few days after leaving the town, they were attacked by monsters several times. Although the monsters were not particularly strong, they were usually killed instantly.

But anyone would feel very annoyed if they were constantly disturbed while traveling.

Everything that should be there—flying in the sky, walking on the ground, and even things that seem to belong in the water—is there.

Lorenzo probably wouldn't be too surprised if a white rabbit holding a pocket watch appeared the next second.

However, it wasn't all bad; on the bright side, at least it was monsters attacking them, not Demons.

After all, some monsters are edible.

Here we go again--

Stark looked at the giant boar charging out of the woods, his voice filled with deep weariness. This had happened dozens of times already. Why didn't these monsters know fear? Did they have to drag a pile of monster corpses along the way before they dared to approach?

But if I did that, I'd definitely be seen as a psychopathic killer or Demons.

As Stark pondered this, he swung his axe, and the monster, several times the size of an ordinary wild boar, naturally became their dinner that day.

"So what were you thinking in the first place that led you to turn monsters into food to eat?"

Stark sat by the campfire, eating a charred pork chop, and asked Lorenzo, who was turning the meat over.

Most of the monsters looked quite terrifying; some had sharp teeth and claws, some had their bodies covered in hard shells, and some just by standing there they exuded an aura that made people instinctively want to stay away.

The first reaction of a normal person upon seeing them should be to run away or pick up a weapon, not to think of making them food.

And it tastes so good!

Why eat monsters? Because monsters are just there.

Lorenzo said matter-of-factly.

What kind of answer is that?

Fern, standing to the side, couldn't help but complain, "It sounds reasonable, but upon closer inspection, it doesn't explain anything at all."

But thinking about it carefully, these things don't really matter.

Fern lowered his head and took a bite of the tender and juicy pork chop. His eyes narrowed slightly as the rising steam warmed his cold cheeks, and the flavor of the slowly grilling ingredients seeped deep into his body.

These past few days they've been constantly on the move, identifying directions, guarding against monsters, arranging accommodations, and keeping a close watch for any signs of Demons activity in the vicinity.

The vortex of thought spins endlessly day after day, and sometimes it needs to be slowed down. Just sitting by a warm campfire and savoring freshly roasted food is enough.

In fact, we really have to thank these monsters. Thanks to their persistent harassment, our food reserves not only didn't decrease, but actually increased compared to when we left the lakeside town.

The next day, the group woke up leisurely in the house built by Frieren's "Projection".

It must be said that having a house has indeed improved the quality of life in the wild.

No more sleeping outdoors at night, no more taking turns guarding outside the tent; even beds, tables, chairs, and a simple kitchen are provided.

The only problem is that the accommodations are so comfortable that it's easy to forget you're still traveling.

By the time everyone had finished washing up and sat around the table to eat what they called breakfast, the sun was already quite high in the sky.

"Alright, I'm going to train."

Stark put down his cutlery, picked up the battle axe leaning against the wall, and after all, as a warrior, he couldn't slack off during the day's training.

Strength, speed, and the feel for combat all require years of practice to maintain. Taking a day off occasionally might not show any results, but once you find an excuse to be lazy, it's easy to repeat the same mistake a second or third time.

This was Eisen taught Stark from the very beginning, and it's unclear whether it was based on the performance of others.

Lorenzo glanced silently at the elf who had lived for over a thousand years.

At this moment, she was wrapped in a blanket, her hair was not yet combed, and she was lying on the table with her eyes half open and half closed, looking as if her soul had not yet fully returned to her body.

"Lady Frieren, open your mouth."

Fern used chopsticks to pick up a small piece of fried egg and brought it to her mouth.

"Ah"

Frieren obediently opened her mouth, chewed a few times, and then buried her face back in her arms.

"Lord Frieren."

Fern fed her another spoonful of porridge.

"After breakfast, we need to comb our hair, and then we should set off."

"Let me sleep a little longer, just a little longer--"

The sound was getting softer and softer; if left unattended, she might actually fall asleep on the dining table in a little while.

"Speaking of which, Lord Stark's birthday is coming up soon."

Fern seemed to suddenly remember something and spoke up.

Frieren, who was almost closing her eyes, twitched her pointed ears slightly.

"Birthday?"

Frieren raised her head again.

"Yes, didn't Lord Eisen tell us that before?"

Fern remembered it quite clearly, after all, she was in charge of managing the team's travel expenses and daily necessities, so she naturally remembered everyone's birthday as well.

"When?"

Three days later.

Three days --

Frieren thought for a moment.

"By then, we should have reached the next town, right?"

"It should be possible based on the distance shown on the map."

Fern nodded.

"Anyway, I've already decided what gift I want to give."

Frieren said confidently, but whenever she showed this air of certainty, nothing good usually came of it.

A sense of foreboding suddenly arose in Fern's heart.

What does Lady Frieren wish to send?

She asked instinctively.

"Of course it's this one!"

Frieren pulled a bottle of potion from a box that was lying to the side.

A potion that makes clothes transparent!

She proudly displayed the bottle in her hand.

"It's said that men become especially happy when given this."

The room fell silent instantly, and Fern stared at the vial of potion for a long time.

Who told you this?

"The merchant who sold me the potion."

Where did you buy it?

"In a rather secluded alley in the Holy City."

Why in a small alley?

"Because he said that such precious items should absolutely not be sold openly."

That person was really lucky not to have been arrested by the guards of the Holy City.

"Please, under no circumstances, give this to Lord Stark."

Fern took a deep breath, snatched the bottle back, unscrewed the stopper, and poured it out the window with a gurgling sound.

Something this dangerous should definitely be dealt with as soon as possible.

However, upon returning from training, Stark inadvertently found himself in a certain "dilemma".

"Strangeness--"

Stark stood below the window, looking at the empty meadow with a puzzled expression.

"Where's my coat? I remember putting it here just now."