Frieren: Serie's Apprentice

[Sinseki Era – 21 Years Prior]

[Northern Nations – Imperial Territory]

In the northern frontier of the Empire, in Kastai, there was no war.

"Damn this cursed weather, it's cold as hell."

"It's barely a few months into the year and it's already freezing like this—how are we supposed to survive the real winter?"

Unlike the southern borderlands, where the lingering heat of late summer still persisted, in this vast snowy plain of Kastai, there was only one kind of weather—bitter, wintry cold.

"Whoo—"

A guard on watch cursed the weather while exhaling hot breath into his cupped hands.

He rubbed them together furiously until they warmed up enough to press against his frostbitten cheeks.

Only after his stiff facial muscles relaxed a bit did he lower his hands and refocus on his surroundings.

"Eh, what's that?"

In the distance, a dark dot appeared on the snowfields, speeding toward their encampment.

Startled, the guard reached out to sound the alarm bell.

But as the figure drew closer, he managed to discern its outline—it wasn't the infamous Demon General they'd long battled. It looked more like a lone human on horseback.

Recalling something, the guard halted his hand mid-reach and instead blew a sharp whistle, alerting those below who manned the camp gate.

Below the outpost, soldiers turned toward one figure in unison upon hearing the whistle.

"Why are you all staring at me? Maintain alert, wait for the second confirming signal."

The squad leader, a woman with her hair tied in a small braid, calmly ordered her subordinates.

Still, the crease in her brow slightly softened—she too hoped for the best.

Wheeee-oooo!

The second signal soon followed, confirming the first.

In an instant, the soldiers near the gate burst into cheers.

"I knew Saidat would make it back on time!"

"Of course! No matter what happens, Saidat would never abandon his comrades!"

"I just wonder if Saidat managed to reach Äußerst… Did he learn anything from Serie?"

"Well… the time was pretty short."

"That's—"

"Enough. Drop the topic."

The braided squad leader raised a silencing gesture.

"Don't forget who's sitting in the command tent right now."

"That noble sent from Eiseberg to manage all camp affairs isn't one of our own."

"Saidat left the camp without permission. If it came down to it, that noble could absolutely charge him with desertion."

Her words quickly doused the soldiers' enthusiasm. Most fell silent, though a few still muttered in defense of the man they admired.

"But that noble earned his merits in the military too."

"Both have the title of Battle Hero. Surely he'd understand that Saidat would never abandon the front."

"Shut it."

The squad leader gave the two recruits a kick each. "If you've got energy to spare, use it to open the gate so your hero can ride in."

"Yes, ma'am!" they responded excitedly, sprinting off.

Watching their backs, she sighed.

"Still green…"

"They've never seen war, nor the politics behind it."

"They just admire the Empire's glorified Battle Heroes, thinking being brave like Saidat will earn them honor."

"They don't know how long their so-called hero hasn't been promoted. Meanwhile, Denken, another Battle Hero, has already become a Court Mage and commands our whole unit."

"Eh, we were all like that once."

An old soldier chuckled. "Once they've been through some fights, hear the whispers in the barracks, and see how promotions actually work, they'll get it."

"Yeah, just a matter of time."

Still, knowing the target of the next battle, both the squad leader and veterans felt the same unspoken question—

After this fight, would any of them—green or seasoned—see another?

Even past Demon General expulsions had cost many lives.

But now they faced an extermination battle.

"Everyone—long time no see."

Suddenly, Saidat's calm voice echoed through the camp.

"Hey! He's back!"

The braided squad leader smiled, stepping up to hug Saidat. The other veterans greeted him with fist bumps and embraces.

After a few quick pleasantries, she pulled Saidat aside toward the command tent.

On the way, she briefed him.

"Right now, Denken, a Court Mage, is commanding the camp. He arrived while you were away, tasked with leading the extermination battle."

"He knows you broke protocol."

"Sure, we've tried making excuses, but Denken knows the tricks. He just chose not to act—yet."

"So keep your temper. Be civil. You two knew each other, right? Smooth it over, and this whole desertion thing might blow over."

"Denken?" Saidat paused, eyes narrowing.

"You mean he's the one planning this battle?"

"Whoa, no!" the squad leader quickly said. "He's just commanding it. We don't know who made the plan."

"But if the battle succeeds, Denken gets the most credit, right?"

She paused, then nodded.

"Yeah."

"And he's in the middle of a promotion battle?"

"Er..." She hesitated. "Yes, he's competing with a noble heir for the Imperial Magic Academy's headmaster role."

"Ha. Thought so."

Saidat sneered. He wasn't naive—just blunt. Things added up too neatly.

They reached the command tent.

The squad leader grabbed Saidat one last time.

"Please, whatever you do—don't clash with Denken."

"Wait until after the battle, if you must."

"I understand," Saidat replied.

"Good."

She pulled aside the tent flap and announced him.

Inside, Denken looked up from a tactical map.

"Long time no see, Saidat."

"Back from your 'meat-sourcing mission' already?"

"I hear you got lost in the snow. I understand. As long as you're back, that's what matters."

He poured two cups of warm water from a kettle atop the stove.

"Kastai's weather is brutal. Come warm up."

Outside, the squad leader exhaled in relief.

As long as Saidat took the cup, the matter was over.

It looked that way—until Saidat grabbed the cup and threw the water in Denken's face.

"Denken, screw you!"

Outside, the squad leader facepalmed.

"It's over."

He rushed in to explain, but Denken had already ordered guards to remove him.

Royal guards who had come from Eiseberg knocked Saidat down, awaiting orders.

"Leave us," Denken said.

"Understood."

They cleared the tent.

Inside, Denken calmly wiped off the water—barely lukewarm thanks to the cold.

He removed his monocle, dried it, and replaced it.

"My mother died in a demon attack long ago. Your little gesture accomplishes nothing."

"And Saidat—if you want to die, wait two days. Fight in the battle."

No anger. Just matter-of-fact.

He pushed his cup toward Saidat.

Saidat accepted it this time.

"I apologize for my words," he said. "But I still despise your actions."

"To risk soldiers and civilians on a political gamble—how can you live with that?"

"If it works, you're a hero. If it fails, Kastai burns for a hundred miles."

"Can you really hold that victory in your hands?"

"Sit down. You need to calm yourself."

Surprisingly, Denken remained placid.

"No shame, no evasion—nothing."

"Denken, you're perfect for the Empire's political games."

"Maybe," Denken replied. "You wouldn't survive them. Living out your days in the frontier might suit you better."

Saidat grunted and helped himself to more water.

They resumed their war simulations.

Eventually, Saidat placed a key unit marker on the board.

"This unit can hold the line against that demon officer."

"Perfect," Denken said, handing the board to Saidat.

"Adjust the rest as you see fit."

Time passed. Outside, the squad leader negotiated with his guards for release—but a noble knight shut him down.

Inside, Denken and Saidat continued their simulation, their tension replaced by tactical focus.

A guard delivered food—one fancy meal, one plain.

Saidat reached for the plain one, but Denken took it.

"You don't need to put on a show," Saidat sneered.

"Maybe. Or maybe I just missed the old taste."

Still, as they ate, Saidat admitted—

"Despite your ambitions, you're the right one to lead this battle."

"If you win, you'll be a hero. Maybe even get your promotion."

"Please—for your sake—win."

Denken set down his utensils.

"You're partly right. But wrong on a key point."

"Military merit doesn't decide the Academy's headmaster."

"It's about political ties. Networking with students and families."

"This battle? Not my choice."

"This war? Not my idea."

"This is all a setup to remove me."

"If I win, I'm rewarded—but I lose the position I wanted."

"If I lose—dead or alive—it doesn't matter."

Saidat's hands trembled.

"They'd sacrifice the whole frontier for politics?"

Denken met his eyes.

"Politics is a dirty game."

"If you want to stay in it—you have to be dirty too."

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