The Hero of the South and Memories
Just as Fern had predicted, they arrived at the town marked on the map within two days.
A little further north is the "Graf Granat Earl Territory", so this is their last stop before entering the Earl.
They kept the matter of celebrating Stark's birthday very secret, and no word of it leaked out.
Is some kind of celebration being held here?
Walking down the street, Fern looked at the houses around him decorated with festive ornaments and asked with some curiosity.
"Have no idea."
Stark also looked around.
"It must be the autumn harvest celebration."
"Frieren said."
She had seen similar decorations when she traveled to the north before.
Winters are exceptionally long in the Northern Countries, so many towns hold celebrations before winter arrives, both to celebrate the year's harvest and to pray that people can safely get through the coming cold.
"Are you travelers who have just arrived here?"
A woman hanging a flower wreath in front of her door overheard their conversation and explained with a smile.
"Tomorrow is the town's autumn harvest festival, and also the anniversary of the hero's arrival here, so we'll light a bonfire in the square tonight, and there will be a market and parade tomorrow during the day."
"Lord Brave?"
Fern looked at the stone sculpture in the center of the square and felt that it was quite different from the statue of Lord Himmel he had seen before.
The man in the statue is tall and has a resolute face with several obvious wrinkles and a beard. Compared to the eternally youthful hero Himmel, he looks more like a middle-aged man.
Was Himmel already middle-aged when he arrived here?
"They are not commemorating Himmel, but the Hero of the South."
Frieren explained to them.
"This lady is right."
The woman hanging the flower wreath smiled and continued the conversation.
"The hero Himmel is renowned and revered throughout the land, that goes without saying, but to our town, he's more like a hero from a distant legend."
Himmel defeated the Demon King and saved the world. The townspeople would also offer flowers to his statue and tell the story of the hero's team to the children.
But Himmel never came here.
"But the Hero of the South is different."
The woman looked up at the slightly worn stone sculpture in the center of the square.
"It is said that a group of Demons lived near the town at that time, and they would come to rob the grain and kill the villagers every autumn harvest."
"The townspeople tried to rebel, but they lacked both powerful enough True Magic and warriors capable of fighting Demons head-on. Even when they managed to hold the village, many people were still injured or killed every year."
"Until the arrival of the Hero of the South, who wiped out all the Demons in the vicinity in just one night, he joined the celebration the following day, which happened to be the Autumn Harvest Festival."
"My grandmother said he had a huge appetite; he ate five servings of stew by himself."
The woman continued with a smile.
"He also helped repair the waterwheel next to the square, and then carried the town's children on his shoulders to watch the celebration parade."
He continued northward the next morning.
The woman's voice lowered slightly.
"But then—news arrived that the Hero of the South had died in battle on the Northern Plateau."
Since then, the town's autumn harvest festival has had an additional tradition.
People would clear a spot by the bonfire in the square and place a bowl of steaming stew and a glass of the year's new wine on it.
Just as that hero will one day end his long journey and return here along the northern road.
"Has Lady Frieren met the Hero of the South before?"
Fern asked Frieren.
"I have seen it."
Frieren looked up at the statue in the center of the square and couldn't help but fall into memories.
That hero always went alone, carrying two longswords. Everyone praised him highly, calling him an innocent man, a noble, dignified, and compassionate hero—however, in my memory, that person was not as unattainable as the rumors suggested.
"Come with me to defeat the Demon King, Frieren."
Many years ago, he walked up to me on a path covered with fallen leaves, carrying two swords. Despite being hailed as the strongest hero among humankind, he didn't even have anyone to carry his luggage.
"Don't want."
"I guess I got rejected."
The Hero of the South seemed completely unsurprised, instead revealing a knowing smile.
"If you knew you'd be rejected, why bother coming all this way?"
Because this is one of the futures I see.
The brave man who could foresee the future said so.
He not only saw his own rejection, but also the path he was about to embark on.
Defeat was inevitable from the start; today's victory will only lead to tomorrow's despair.
"If you know you'll die there, why choose to keep going?"
Frieren couldn't understand at all that human life is short and that humans should cherish their time more than any other race.
The hero simply smiled.
"Imagine someone laying out their entire life story before a person on the day they are born, and saying to them, 'This is the story of your life.'"
Do you think he'll just laugh it off, or lament how short it was, and then be consumed by grief for the inevitable separation?
He looked up at the sky as if telling himself a story that no one else knew.
Knowing the ending of a story doesn't mean that everything that happens along the way loses its meaning; encounters, partings, joys, and sorrows don't become meaningless just because death has already predetermined them.
The Hero of the South reached out and pressed his hand on the hilt of his sword, gazing at the northern road he was about to embark on.
"It is precisely because we can see through everything that we know there are things that cannot be changed; it is precisely because we can see through everything that we know there are things that can be changed."
"If I dare not move forward because I see death, then I, who possess this power, would become the most cowardly person in the world."
Aren't you scared?
"Of course I'm scared."
The Hero of the South readily admitted it.
"It is precisely because I am afraid that I should carefully choose how I want this short life to end."
Knowing the future did not take away his choice.
On the contrary.
Because he saw countless possibilities, he understood better than anyone what this step he was taking truly meant.
"After all—"
He faced the wind blowing from the north and strode towards that road of no return.
"I was born with blessings, and I will walk towards blessings in the end."
That was the last time I saw the Hero of the South.
Humans are really strange.
From birth, everyone knows they will die one day. Even without the power to foresee the future, no one would believe that life can continue forever.
Yet they will still meet others, make friends, argue over trivial matters, and smile over equally trivial things.
They will embark on journeys, and they will return to their hometowns; they will gain something, and they will lose something, and then one day they will welcome the dawn.
The inevitable end.
In hindsight, it really was a meaningless and boring life.
But that's precisely what attracts me to want to understand them.