Variable from the Future, Murder from the Past

"One who foresees the future goes to meet a death whose ending is already known."

"As expected, any creature that peers into fate cannot escape this pitiful destiny."

After using his precognition magic, Shulahart first checked whether his own death still held any chance of reversal.

But the prophecy's result showed no change from before.

Shulahart shook his head bitterly, never expecting that even he would waver when death loomed so close.

"Still."

"No change isn't necessarily a bad thing."

The fact that his future of dying in battle remained unchanged also confirmed that the Hero of the South had found no better path.

If he only wanted to survive, Shulahart had countless options to choose from—even something as simple as not showing up at the location he had foreseen.

Even the strongest human, the Hero of the South, could not march into the Demon King's Castle and kill him.

But just as Shulahart was certain the Hero of the South would come to the appointment, Shulhahat himself would also go to meet this battle destined for death.

Because their desperate struggle was not for individual gain, but for the survival of their entire races.

Success need not be achieved by me, but success must have my strength behind it.

It was not only humans who understood this truth.

And in the shared future that Shulhahat and the Hero of the South had seen, the timeline they now faced had already led to an ending that was best for both sides.

Humanity would one day defeat the Demon King, and the demon race would obtain the key to winning the war for survival.

But to reach that good ending, two indispensable keys were still missing.

Those were the lives of Shulhahat and the Hero of the South.

These two variables with the greatest impact on the future needed to be erased before dawn arrived!

At this moment, Shulahat, his figure shrouded in a vast cloak, had eyes that flickered in the shadows with a resolve firmer than ever before.

This battle was for the survival of the demon race centuries from now.

Shulahat clenched his fist tightly. The next moment, at the very limit of his magical perception, his opponent in this battle—the strongest human, the Hero of the South—arrived.

Watching the figure rapidly approaching him, Shulahat turned to his companion, codenamed [Miracle], and gave his final instructions.

"You remember the few things I need you to do after I die in this battle, right?"

"Of course."

Grausam nodded solemnly. "After this battle, I will delete all memories of this fight from [Golden Country—Mahart]."

"And seven years from now, I will lead my subordinates and colleagues to set an ambush at the Goddess's Monument near the Empire's Border, killing Frieren when she returns."

"Mm." Shulahat nodded to Grausam, then let his magic surge forth with full force, stepping into the final battle against the strongest human with his most serious state.

"If only I could avoid dying, I really wouldn't want to."

Shulhahat sighed one last time, then activated his precognition ability at full power, probing the direction of the Hero of the South's next attack.

When fighting an opponent who also possessed precognition, any predictions or analyses made before the battle were unreliable.

Because what you could do, your opponent could do too.

Only when the moment of close combat arrived, when the opponent's attack had already been launched and could no longer be redirected, did predictions based on foresight hold any meaning.

But when Shulhahat began his battle-time calculations, aside from the Hero of the South's attack rhythm, he also caught something terrifying.

In the future he could see, a change had occurred—the very one he feared most!

Not even bothering to adjust his stance according to the Hero of the South's attack rhythm, Shulhahat immediately shouted to Grausam beside him.

"There are still variables in the future! Two of them!"

"The Archmage Serie, who has lived since the mythical era—I can no longer see her future clearly."

"Serie's disciple, Guter—his fate line is an inexplicable singularity, a rootless duckweed. All I can see is that single name!"

The next instant, before Shulhahat could give further instructions, the Hero of the South's razor-sharp blade arc sliced straight across Shulahat's throat.

Even though Shulhahat relied on his battle-time foresight and powerful physique to dangerously retreat a step, a line of blood still sprayed from his throat.

"Shulhahat, it seems the world after we leave will still be full of excitement."

The Hero of the South said with a smile. As the strongest human who also wielded precognition, he had naturally sensed the so-called "variables" Shulhahat mentioned in that instant of his attack.

A pity he hadn't seized the opening while his opponent was rushing to pass on his final words, and cut him down in one stroke.

Holding his neck, Shulhahat did not respond to the Hero of the South. Instead, as he retreated, he used his damaged throat to give Grausam his final instructions.

"Don't target Serie. Go all out to kill Guter."

"The demon race should not provoke any more powerful enemies. And that Guter is likely the source of these variables—"

"Bang! Bang!"

Before Shulhahat could finish his dying words, the Hero of the South, relying on his overwhelming strength, beat back several [Seven Sages] blocking his path, his twin blades carving two sharp arcs through the air.

One blade slashed toward Shulahart's face, the other cleaved down at Graosam's body.

"Fall back!"

Shulahart's pupils contracted to their limit as he bent backward nearly ninety degrees, barely managing to dodge the Hero of the South's heavy, powerful strike.

Yet before relief could rise in Shulahart's heart, a bloodstained blade pierced through his body, driving from his lower back out through his front.

"When... did this..."

Before the searing pain hit his body, what Shulahart felt more was a dazed bewilderment.

Every demon held absolute confidence in the magic that sustained their existence.

Unlike humans, who learned a variety of magics over a lifetime, demons typically poured their life's blood and energy into developing a single magic.

Thus, the signature magic of each Great Demon often represented the pinnacle of that magical art and creation.

And [Precognition Magic] was Shulahart's peak, the pride of his existence as a demon.

But now, that pride had been shattered by the blade that ran through him.

Shulahart had never imagined that a human's attack speed could outpace his own prophecy.

Even the speed of foreseeing the future couldn't catch up to this blade's strike?

"Shulahart! What are you hesitating for? Run!"

Beside him, the shout of his companion [Miracle Graosam] jolted Shulahart awake. Looking ahead, Graosam—whose arm had been wounded by the Hero of the South—was using his other intact arm to cast [Paradise Transfer Magic]. Judging by the Hero of the South's halted advance after the surprise attack from behind, [Miracle]'s Paradise Transfer Magic had likely succeeded.

Shulahart walked forward in silence, pulling the Hero of the South's blade step by step from his own body.

Seeing Shulahart's grim expression, Graosam assumed he was still brooding over his shattered magical pride and offered words of comfort.

"After all, he's humanity's strongest hero. It's inevitable that he'd exceed expectations."

"That's not what I'm thinking about, Graosam."

After pushing the last inch of the blade out of his body, Shulahart frowned. "If the Hero of the South could be restrained so easily, he wouldn't have killed so many of our comrades in countless prophecies."

"What I was just thinking is—why were you able to restrain the Hero of the South at all?"

"Not good!"

This time, even without using his Precognition Magic, Shulahart sensed absolute danger. He tensed his body, instantly trying to put distance between himself and the Hero of the South behind him.

But—

Too late.

The next moment, two heavy, overwhelming blade lights lashed out with irresistible force. Even before they landed on him, Shulahart was utterly certain his death was imminent.

A trace of hatred flickered beneath the face shrouded by his cloak. He poured all his magical power backward, and in a manner that nearly sacrificed his Precognition Magic, he performed countless future observations in an instant, thoroughly disrupting the observation pathway and rendering the Hero of the South unable to predict the future for a short time.

Finally, having arranged all this, Shulahart faced death calmly. The moment the pursuing strike caught up to him, his body was shattered into countless pieces by the immense force contained within, then dissolved into dust.

In the faint moments before his complete dissolution, he left his final words to Graosam.

"Kill Guter."

Hearing this, Graosam let out a bitter smile. Watching the cross-shaped blade light that had already obliterated Shulahart's body bearing down on him with an inescapable momentum—even though Shulahart had used his life to deflect most of its force—Graosam still couldn't be sure he would survive the blow.

Even though he had long known from Shulahart that he wouldn't die in this battle.

Fortunately, the next moment, the companions who had been driven back by the Hero of the South rushed over.

[Golden Country Mahart] charged in front of Graosam. As [All Things Turn to Gold Magic] activated, the cloak on his body transformed into a giant golden shield, blocking the path of the incoming strike and shielding Graosam from the residual force of the Hero of the South's charged attack.

Yet even the mere aftermath of the strike that had killed Shulahart carried power that could not be underestimated.

Seeing the gaps that had appeared in Mahart's cloak, reinforced by [All Things Turn to Gold Magic], Graosam was utterly convinced that if this blow had landed on him, it would have taken him out completely.

But—

Just as Shulahart had foreseen, he did not die. And that human, the strongest hero, was now heading toward his final curtain call.

As the dust from the strike settled, the situation on the battlefield became clear.

On the ground, Mahart's [All Things Turn to Gold Magic] had restricted his movement.

At his side, [Undying Beze] and the remaining [Seven Sages] had completely surrounded the Hero of the South. Several of their weapons had already carved deep wounds into his body.

And mentally, Graosam could sense that his [Paradise Transfer Magic] still had some lingering effect.

Such an ending was surely worthy of his status as humanity's strongest hero.

But—

Even in such a desperate state, could the hero, now spent, still reduce the [Seven Sages]' numbers?

The answer was yes.

And he could take out more than one.

After this battle, the [Seven Sages] under the Demon King's command had been reduced to the [Four Sages]. Even [Omniscient Shulahart], who had guided the demons forward, had fallen in battle.

The curtain call of humanity's strongest hero was splendid enough to be worthy of his title as the strongest.

After cleaning up the battlefield, the remaining demons returned to their own territories.

Demons are not like humans; their nature is far more indifferent.

Yet even so, during the journey back, Grausam could not help but think to himself.

[Omniscient Shulahart], [the strongest hero of humanity]—what kind of story's ending did they see that made them willing to bet their lives, to pay the price for "the future," that ethereal word?

Ah, forget it. Grausam shook his head. Without the ability to foresee the future, he would never understand these matters.

Rather than dwell on them, it was better to focus on carrying out the tasks Shulahart had assigned.

After all, as a long-lived demon, Grausam was confident he could live to witness the day the ending came.

"Tomorrow, go and erase all memories of today's battle from [Golden Country - Mahart]."

"Seven years from now, kill Frieren when she goes to the Goddess's Monument."

"And also... Guter."

"Find him, and eliminate him by any means necessary."

New Era of Xin—21 years prior

[Northern Countries · Oysaster]

Afternoon.

The sun had gradually begun to set, its twilight rays shining through the stained glass of the great hall, dyeing it in a beautiful, soft glow.

Serie sat bored on the hall's chair, eliminating the mage candidate who had come for an interview within a single second.

The reason for such swift elimination was simple enough.

After all, this human mage was already too old, with almost no potential left for cultivation.

And despite having trained for so long, his mana volume couldn't even match that of Guter, the disciple standing behind her.

With such talent and age, Serie truly had no desire to take him on as a student.

After the old mage walked out of the hall in disappointment, Serie glanced at her disciple Guter, who was standing behind her, quietly twirling the ends of her hair with his fingers, and couldn't help but sigh.

"I thought the quality of human mages in this era was decent."

"But after a whole day of interviews, the only one with good talent is Guter. Hardly a praiseworthy disciple, is he?"

"Um... may I come in for the interview now?"

From outside the hall came a slightly timid male voice.

[4000-word chapter]

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