Say What You Feel

Shane was surrounded by a group of ladies.

The warmhearted innkeeper and her sisters were reluctant to see Shane go. They kept stuffing bread and fruit into his arms until he could barely handle it.

He turned and looked at Frieren, who seemed entirely cut off from the warm atmosphere around her.

The elven girl stood before the statue of Himmel's party, gazing up at it in a daze, silently wondering who knew what.

The party that had once defeated the Demon King had changed with the passage of time. The hero had passed away, the monk had grown old, and the dwarf had gone into seclusion. Only Frieren remained, wandering the world alone.

Shane sighed to himself, then forcibly shoved the bread in his arms into Frieren's hands and pulled her along to say goodbye to everyone.

The girl seemed unused to this sort of scene, her expression a little stiff.

But when a child beaming with joy offered her a piece of candy, a gentle smile still appeared on her face.

Carrying a huge pile of food, Shane and Frieren waved goodbye to the townsfolk who had come to see them off and set out for their nearest trade city, Gostan City.

"Frieren, you should say a proper goodbye when you leave." As he walked, Shane kept waving back over his shoulder.

Frieren, however, remained impassive.

"If you do that, won't it be awkward when you meet again?"

At Frieren's words, Shane paused.

Hadn't Himmel said something like that once?

Though Frieren had changed a great deal under Himmel's influence, deep down she was still a "cold" elf.

And rather than having changed, she seemed more like a child who had lost her family, clumsily imitating the "grown-up" she remembered.

This slow-witted elf had lost her people when she was very young, then, over the long years, lost her teacher and her companions.

Her long life had brought her little comfort. Instead, it had brought her endless loneliness.

A trace of sympathy welled up in Shane.

That Himmel—he was so devious, taking his own little schemes to the grave with him.

For Frieren, who was still alive in this world, how could she dispel the inexpressible guilt she'd feel when, long after everything had changed, she realized what those feelings from the past had been and remembered how thoughtlessly she'd acted at the time?

Shane didn't agree with that way of doing things.

"Who says you're sure to meet again after parting? Time is cruel, especially for humans. That's why you should say a proper goodbye."

"Even if you never see each other again, you've still conveyed how you felt in that moment. And someday, the person who received those feelings might be glad they responded properly back then."

After he finished, Shane raised a hand to ruffle Frieren's hair, but lowered it again before he could.

He wasn't trying to teach Frieren some grand lesson. He just hoped the lonely elf would have fewer regrets over the long life ahead of her.

Frieren silently considered Shane's words, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. But after they'd walked quite a long way, she suddenly stopped and looked back at the town.

In the end, she said nothing. She turned around and continued on her journey.

All along the road, Shane happily hummed a little tune.

But the melody was so awful that it kept earning him Frieren's "hostility."

He didn't mind.

He was genuinely happy that he'd persuaded Frieren to travel with him.

(Recalling last night)

"I do need a vanguard."

Frieren took a bite of pudding and spoke slowly. "You're strong, but you're too frail to handle the duties of a vanguard."

"That's true. I'm not exactly a pure warrior, but I can offer you these two bottles of good wine, plus cover your travel expenses."

Frieren fell silent in thought.

"My journey is very long, and I'm rather flexible about the route."

"I happen to want to see what other places look like, too. How about a serving of dessert in addition to three meals a day?"

Frieren gave up thinking.

The party was formed.

It had to be said: Shane was pretty persuasive.

As they walked, the two chatted.

Shane asked a lot of questions about adventurers, and Frieren patiently explained every one of them.

When Shane asked how to improve his mental strength, Frieren furrowed her brow.

"As a warrior, shouldn't you be concerned with improving your physical strength? Why are you interested in mental strength?"

"Because I have a dream."

Shane casually fished out an apple, rubbed it on his sleeve, and took a big bite. "Mm wanna become a magic swordsman someday."

"I see."

Frieren thought for a moment, then explained:

"For a mage, the amount of mana they possess determines the upper limit of their magical abilities. Mental strength, meanwhile, determines how precisely they can act within that limit. Only those born with strong mental strength show an aptitude for magic."

Whoosh.

Frieren summoned her staff and gave a gentle wave toward a pile of stones by the roadside.

In an instant, the stones stuck themselves together, forming a wobbly puppet that began to dance under Frieren's control.

"This is the [Magic to Control Stones Like Puppets]. It's an amusing magical trick. It doesn't look very powerful, but..." As she spoke, Frieren raised her staff slightly. With a sharp crack, the stone puppet shrank noticeably, its stones packed together more tightly than before.

Then the controlled stone puppet suddenly sprang into action and kicked Shane.

"Ow—!"

Everything in Shane's arms spilled onto the ground. Clutching his leg, he hopped around in pain.

Frieren continued, "Like that. A mage with strong mental strength can control magic more precisely, increasing the power of a spell that would otherwise be unremarkable."

Shane hurriedly nodded. He got it, he got it.

He had to say, if she was going to teach him, she didn't need to give him a hands-on lesson.

"Then how do you improve your mental strength?" Shane pressed.

"Just as with training your mana, you improve it through meditation and sitting in contemplation. It takes time. But compared with increasing your mana, mental strength improves extremely slowly. There's one other difference, too: if you train improperly, your mental strength can grow in the wrong direction."

"Grow in the wrong direction?"

"Yes. Whether it grows in the right direction or the wrong one, it can still give you exceptional control over magic. But a mage whose mental strength grows in the wrong direction will eventually lose their reason and go mad."

Go mad...

Shane thought again of those scarlet eyes.

Going by Frieren's explanation, mental strength was a bit like an alignment score in a game: it could increase in a positive direction or a negative one. He'd have to be careful when he trained. One mistake, and he might turn into a lunatic.

"Warriors who want to learn magic, like you, are rare, but they do exist. Eisen once told me he had a friend who was a magic warrior." Frieren thought for a moment, then continued, "Maybe I can introduce you to Eisen. He knows more about this than I do."

The dwarf Eisen?

Shane knew he was called the "Greatest Warrior." His stats were off the charts: tough as nails and incredibly resistant to damage. He could dive headfirst off a mountain and be fine. Frieren had once invited him to serve as their vanguard on their travels, but he'd refused, saying he was "too old."

If he got the chance someday, Shane could learn a few combat techniques from him.

Just then, a shout came from far ahead on the road:

"Hey! Want a ride?"

Shane looked toward the voice, his eyes lighting up. It was a merchant caravan!