Frieren in Elden Ring

Magic City, Association Headquarters. Mages hurried back and forth through the great hall, their steps quick and urgent, each carrying vario

Magic City, Association Headquarters.

Mages hurried back and forth through the great hall, their steps quick and urgent, each carrying various letters in their hands.

The renewed activity on the northern demon front inevitably affected the headquarters, which was in the same general region. Many battle reports were being delivered simultaneously, and now that they had taken on a military role, they were constantly dispatching their own combat forces.

"The Mountain Kingdom on the very front line has lost a fortress. They have no choice but to continue a defensive retreat."

"Why can't we push forward in the northeast? Don't you have a lot of people?"

"Even a great mage shouldn't fight alone so recklessly. The Demon Sages have been very active lately. Don't let them catch you."

"Ask the central regions for help. The northern countries can't possibly hold on their own. This offensive is very fierce."

"But their prejudice against magic is too deep."

The group discussed their plans. There were even military officers present. After all, the Magic City was one of the few stable places in the larger northern war zone, able to offer temporary shelter and protection, all thanks to the aegis of the Mythical-Era Mage.

Inner Sanctum.

To Serie, the chaos of the outside world was merely a passing cloud, just one side taking the stage after the other.

Since founding the Magic Association and actively expanding it, she had once again entered a long-overdue period of leisure. It had been some time since anything had piqued her interest. The current level of warfare was still too insignificant to catch her eye.

Therefore, her daily life had returned to tending her flowers.

The elven woman, holding a watering can, paced back and forth among the flower beds, her bare feet treading the small path, her white robe picking up a bit of dirt.

"Master, Lady Frieren's party has set off," one of her disciples reported, expecting to see a look of joy, but saw that Serie was still admiring the flowers with a placid expression.

"...I see."

"Aren't you concerned? I hear the Ruins of the King's Tomb is very dangerous, and the king is not friendly either."

It didn't matter what monsters were in the dungeon or what conspiracies the royal family had. Since Frieren had taken over, there would be no problem. With her personality, she would not allow an anti-magic stronghold to continue running rampant, even if it meant taking radical measures.

"There's one more thing. Lernen and Flamme had a battle..."

At the mention of this topic, Serie finally put down her watering can and listened carefully to the course of events, a hint of surprise appearing on her face.

A new magic has appeared again!

As expected, humans could always invent new and strange things. Especially those geniuses who were often extraordinary. Frieren had found a good seedling. A success on the first try. In contrast, she herself had not found many powerful talents.

What kind of luck is that? This is too unreasonable.

Despite her envy, she did acknowledge that her new disciple's performance was not bad; he had actually held on under that kind of magic. So, you were the one being tempered, you weakling.

A thought stirred in Serie's heart, but her words were merciless: "I had high hopes for Lernen. What a disappointment."

"His tempering is far from enough. How much more room for improvement does he have in his lifetime?"

Several mages around her couldn't help but nod, their faces ashamed. Everyone knew that this ancient elf, known as the founder of magic, took in disciples to discover more magic, hoping they would forge more paths, but with little success.

What a pity.

"Master, would you like to visit the elf village? I hear it's developing well. It should have gathered most of the elves by now, and there are even signs of it developing into a town."

"I don't get along with those shut-in hermits... But have they learned to change too?"

Serie had a nostalgic look on her face.

"A collective change among the elves is worth investigating. I'll take a trip there later, and see Frieren while I'm at it."

Of course, she wouldn't set off rashly. It was best to wait for this round of conflict to stabilize, for example, for the central regions to unify their opinions and support the front line. Otherwise, trouble might arise as soon as she left.

Although she had never actively protected anyone, she still felt a sense of responsibility for the current situation.

"So, what do you all plan to do next?"

"We are going to the remaining non-participating countries in the north to lobby them. We should use this fire to get the human front line to establish a clear strategy."

"Since I'm idle anyway, if you need me, I'll go for a stroll too."

"That's wonderful!"

Seeing her disciples' happy expressions, Serie sighed. She had to admit that Frieren had influenced her. She should lead by example in her teaching, to change her surroundings with a positive will. She really didn't know what magic Frieren had used; even the hidebound elves were developing.

To choose the most difficult subjects to change and succeed in changing them—this will, determination, and skill were extraordinary.

So, Serie also decided to change.

Since a junior elf was actively promoting magic, she might as well try to take action herself. Perhaps she could find some inspiration that she wouldn't normally notice. What was there to lose?

The Underground Kingdom's court. The Royal Council was once again discussing the old topic: the Ruins of the King's Tomb.

The Chief Minister said deferentially, "Your Majesty, we cannot let this dungeon fall into the hands of the Association. They surely have ill intentions. Moreover, monsters have already been spreading outside the kingdom. How can we guarantee that the disaster will not worsen?"

"Those mages are too dangerous, and they are not under the court's command. They will surely become a stumbling block to the kingdom's rule and must be suppressed."

King Ander V, seated on his throne, pondered for a moment and then nodded.

In reality, the conservative nobles had always been wary of the Magic Association, an organization that existed outside the system. A military force they couldn't control was equivalent to a rebellion. If it were just an organization, it would be one thing, but the mages within their own country yearned to join it.

They didn't accept invitations from the royal army, but instead flocked to the Association.

How outrageous!

Over time, who would these mages identify with? How much control would the kingdom still have? It was simply lawless.

The king said decisively, "We'll use the matter of the Ruins of the King's Tomb to make an issue of it. Let them explore it. It would be best if they died. Even if they don't, we can find a reason to detain them. We must make the Association bleed, and carefully beat some sense into this organization that doesn't know its place."

However, someone objected: "Isn't this too radical?"

But the Chief Minister refuted first, "Hasn't His Majesty already decided to temporarily open the Tomb? But some accidents are inevitable. For example, if a cave-in traps them, it will be very difficult to resolve."

In short, they had to be taught a lesson.

Only by making the Association lose face could they be dealt with.

The others had no choice but to withdraw their objections. Finally, the Royal Council reached a decision: use the Tomb to create an accident to teach the Association a good lesson, strike down their arrogant airs, and redefine the allegiance of mages.

"If necessary, the army can be mobilized." Suddenly, the king gave a sinister order. "This is the final insurance."

"Do you mean for defending against monsters, or against those envoys?"

The crowd looked at each other, a sudden chill running down their spines. Why had His Majesty suddenly become so aggressive?

But an order was an order. As long as the Association submitted, everything would be fine.

On the way to the Ruins of the King's Tomb.

The mountain road was more difficult to travel than imagined. The rugged path unfolded under Frieren's feet, with long, steep slopes appearing one after another. They stretched on endlessly, with no gentle breaks in sight.

Forget it. Forget experiencing the local culture. At times like this, we should take a shortcut.

Whenever they encountered a large mountain blocking their path, she would use gravity magic, causing a huge rock to rise up and carry the four of them over the obstacle, saving them from a long detour.

Flying for a while and walking for a while along the way made for a rich experience.

Compared to the north, the further south they went, the denser the vegetation became. They encountered primeval forests several times, and even for a group of swift travelers, they struggled for a while on the ground covered in tangled roots, even getting lost at one point.

"I'm not as young as I used to be." At this moment, Vain leaned against a tree and let out a long breath. "I used to handle forced marches with ease."

"My apologies, I'm not good with stamina either."

Lernen washed his face by the stream and finally recovered some of his energy, but his brow was still furrowed with fatigue.

The party's journey was far from simple. Along the way, they encountered bandits and monsters. They couldn't just turn a blind eye and leave, so they spent some effort to clear them out before moving on.

So tiring.

The only good news was probably that because of their good deeds, the grateful villages had given them many gifts. Otherwise, with the supplies they had initially carried, they would have soon had to start hunting and living off the land, as resupplying was harder than imagined.

Flamme opened the map and took notes while saying, "Some of the towns that were supposed to be here have disappeared. Your intelligence is outdated."

"A detailed map update might not happen even in three to five years. That's enough time for residents to flee."

As a commander, he knew this was not right, but communication between regions was poor, and the various human kingdoms had not yet completely unified their front. It was troublesome.

"Those empty towns are also creepy..."

Recalling what she had seen along the way, Flamme couldn't help but mutter. At night, the wind blowing through the abandoned villages sounded like ghosts wailing. If she hadn't been sleeping next to her master, she probably would have had nightmares.

Traveling with a Mythical-Era Mage brought a great sense of security. She was well-rested every day.

"Don't worry, we're not far." Lernen pointed into the distance. "Once we cross that mountain, we'll be there."

"I've prepared false identities as adventurers in advance. We'll first act as an exploration team to investigate and adapt to the situation. When the delegation arrives, we can act publicly together."

Suddenly, Frieren, who had been chatting idly, wore a serious expression. Following her line of sight, they saw a small, abandoned village. The group had seen similar scenes before, but the problem was the thick smell of blood, still fresh.

The wind blowing from the mountain pass carried an air of slaughter.

But an ordinary scene of death shouldn't have made one of the world's foremost mages look so worried.

"You can perceive much further than us. What did you see?"

The experienced Vain had a guess. It was probably some tragic scene. That's why the teacher, Frieren, was worried about scaring the child. But they had all witnessed the battle for Northwind Fortress; it shouldn't be a problem.

The silver-haired girl didn't explain much and strode forward. The warrior followed closely behind, with the other two bringing up the rear.

On high alert.

Logically, the warrior should be in the front, but the party's composition was special, so they didn't fuss over it. Although Frieren's designated role was a priest, she was actually an all-rounder. No matter the situation, she would be the first to go and test the waters. Along the way, she had been the most curious, even falling for a mimic's ambush.

She was the first to step into the village. On the ground was a fresh, red corpse. The muscles were exposed, the texture of the fibers clear, yet not much blood had been shed.

Lernen said coldly, "Some demons have a similar flaying technique. It's pure slaughter, a deterrent without any emotion. It's because of similar sporadic cases that the Association suspects they have adopted rear-area infiltration..."

"The important thing now is to be wary of the enemy in the shadows," Vain said, looking around.

"If there are demons involved, I will not let the one who committed such an atrocity go easily. I will strike at the first opportunity." For a rare moment, Frieren's tone held a hint of anger.

"Also, recently, some demons have been using human skin as material for magical disguises. They can even briefly mimic someone without a special medium," Lernen's intelligence sent a chill down their spines. "So, we must be careful. The only people we can trust before we eliminate it are ourselves."

Gag.

Flamme's face turned pale as she looked at the ground. She then turned her head away and patted her chest, forcing down the urge to retch.

Although she had been prepared, she hadn't expected such a shocking scene to directly hit her vision, giving her no chance to react, laying the bloody reality bare before her.

Such a hellish scene was more visually impactful than the battlefield at Northwind back then.

The feeling of nausea brought tears to her eyes. In that moment, the silver-haired girl hugged her, a warmth enveloping her, a slender hand patting her back.

"I'm sorry you had to see this."

"I chose this myself. As long as the demons are still rampant, if I don't see it today, I'll see it tomorrow." The red-haired girl took a deep breath. "Master, don't worry about me. Our priority is to investigate this clearly."

Hearing this, Frieren said no more, turning instead to search the village.

The buildings and their interior decorations hadn't changed much, which meant the battle had been very swift.

Many of the dead showed no signs of fear before their death, as if they were completely unguarded against the newcomer. This was strange, as the characteristics of demons were obvious and shouldn't be mistaken.

"It's either mental magic like hypnosis or illusion, or a disguise that lets down people's guard followed by a fatal blow," Lernen asserted. "And I suspect the village is booby-trapped. It's impossible they would leave such a vulnerability."

He touched the bloodstain on the ground and muttered to himself:

"The smell of blood will likely attract powerful monsters, so the massacre site itself is a perfect trap. Investigators will have a hard time escaping."

Boom!

Suddenly, an explosion went off beside him. The shockwave was blocked by Frieren's shield.

It was a pre-laid spell. Obviously, the killer had prepared for the scene to be discovered and intended to silence any witnesses.

As if setting off a chain reaction, the other two who were investigating separately also encountered explosions. However, they were not harmed. For powerhouses of this level, a little sneak attack was useless.

The important thing was the commotion itself.

With a shriek, shadows of wings were cast across the sky. Several cyclopean beasts were circling overhead, their eagle eyes fixed on the four solitary figures on the ground below—a group of prey.

An ordinary person would have already run away seeing me. Why are they not reacting?

Lernen said decisively, "No wonder we didn't see the nobles' corpses. They were likely fed to these creatures by the killer. We should be able to track them back to their lair. If we kill a few, they'll naturally go back."

"Begin."

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