A mountain of multicolored, high-quality gemstones glittered before them.
Gold coins sparkled across the floor, completely untouched, their sheen so brilliant it was almost blinding.
Stark was nearly overwhelmed, his vision momentarily dazzled. This was more wealth than he'd ever seen in his entire life—more than he could even imagine.
And yet, standing beside him, Frieren surveyed the scene with an expression of complete indifference.
"This seems… a bit underwhelming," she remarked flatly.
"This is 'underwhelming'?!" Stark exclaimed, incredulous.
"This is Stark's first time exploring a ruin, so he wouldn't know…" Frieren began, her voice calm and steady.
She explained, "Back when I explored ruins with Himmel and the others, it was common for untouched ruins of this scale to have far more treasure at their deepest points than what we see here."
"It's probably because of the Gem Beetle Queen," Aesc added thoughtfully. "That thing feeds on gemstones and gold. Judging by how much of its carapace covered the previous chamber, it must've consumed a significant portion of the treasure. Since this ruin was never disturbed, it must have relied on devouring the gold and gems here for its growth and reproduction."
"Most likely," Frieren agreed with a slight nod.
Aesc, noticing Stark's growing disappointment, added in a consoling tone, "There's no need to feel so dejected. Think about it—there's no way we could carry all this treasure out anyway. The part the Gem Beetle Queen ate wouldn't have been ours regardless."
"I know… but still, it feels like such a waste…" Stark muttered, visibly disheartened.
"Lord Stark, you're such a handful," Fern sighed.
If they could have taken all the treasure in the room, Aesc and her group would likely have become richer than some of the most prominent merchants or nobles in the land.
Instead, they each took only a small portion—a few pretty gemstones that caught their eye, with little regard for their actual value.
Aesc, as usual, showed no interest in the gold coins or gemstones. Instead, she focused on gathering magical artifacts, spell materials, and grimoires.
The entire group, truth be told, was largely indifferent to wealth.
The legendary hero Himmel's party had explored more ruins than anyone else in history. If they had cared about money, they could easily have amassed enough to last several lifetimes. Of course, for the likes of Frieren and Aesc, whose lifetimes were practically infinite, such riches held little appeal.
Even after defeating the Demon King, none of them had chosen to live in luxury. Himmel's modest retirement home, while comfortable, was nothing extravagant. Frieren, meanwhile, often took up odd jobs during her travels—like farming or slaying minor monsters—just to make ends meet.
It was clear they simply didn't value material wealth all that much.
With a tap of her staff, Aesc conjured a mirror-like surface of shimmering water in front of her. She casually tossed all the magical items she'd gathered into the mirror, which then vanished.
Turning to the others, she asked, "Fern, Stark, are you done collecting?"
"Yes, Lady Aesc," Fern replied promptly.
"…Where's Frieren?"
Fern hesitated before raising a hand and pointing toward a corner of the room.
Following her gaze, Aesc spotted a familiar scene: a treasure chest sprouting sharp teeth… and a pair of legs sticking out of its mouth.
"Ahhh, it's so dark! And scary!" came Frieren's muffled cries from inside the mimic.
Aesc's face twisted into an odd expression as she silently processed what she was seeing.
"Fern," Aesc said after a long pause, "what do you say we leave Frieren here and just go?"
"Lady Aesc, please don't joke about that," Fern replied, deadpan.
With a resigned sigh, Fern rushed over and began pulling on Frieren's legs with all her strength, trying to free her from the mimic's jaws.
"It's not working…" Fern muttered, frowning as the mimic stubbornly refused to release its prey.
Desperate, she turned her pleading eyes toward Aesc, who had been watching the spectacle unfold with an air of detached amusement.
"Fern, you're doing it wrong," Aesc said, stepping forward with an almost exaggerated air of authority. "In situations like this, you need to push the person further in. Mimics hate the sensation of choking and will spit their victim out."
"…Are mimics like dogs, then?" Fern deadpanned, her tone utterly devoid of faith in Aesc's advice.
Several minutes later…
"Hah… I'm free…"
Frieren knelt on the ground, drenched in mimic saliva, looking utterly miserable but relieved to have escaped.
The mimic, however, had not been so lucky—it had been swiftly dispatched by Aesc after spitting Frieren out.
"Ugh, my hair's a mess," Frieren groaned as Fern fussed over her, wiping her down with a towel and trying to tidy her disheveled hair.
"Lady Frieren, how did you deal with situations like this when you were traveling alone?" Fern asked as she worked.
"I used attack magic to blow the mimic up from the inside," Frieren replied matter-of-factly. "But my hair always ended up scorched and frizzy afterward. I hated that part."
"So that's why you changed your hairstyle last time…" Fern murmured, as though everything finally made sense.
As Fern continued tending to Frieren, Aesc's voice suddenly broke the moment.
"Frieren, catch."
Instinctively, Frieren raised a hand and caught the object tossed her way. A silver ring with a mirror lotus design rested in her palm.
Frieren stared at the ring for a long time before finally looking up at Aesc.
"You didn't have to go to such lengths to get it back," Frieren said quietly. "Himmel gave me plenty of things. Losing one wouldn't have been a big deal—"
"Shut up, you clueless elf," Aesc interrupted, her tone sharp. "You think I retrieved it just for your sake? This ring holds important memories—not just for you, but for me as well."
She sighed, scratching the back of her head irritably. "Sure, it might get lost again someday, but that doesn't mean I'd ever stop looking for it."
After another moment of hesitation, Aesc asked, "Do you even know the meaning of the mirror lotus flower?"
"Mirror lotus? Oh, you mean the one on the ring?" Frieren tilted her head slightly, looking genuinely puzzled.
Aesc's expression turned exasperated. "You don't even know what kind of flower it is?! Listen carefully—the mirror lotus's flower language is 'eternal love.' It's a flower usually given to one's lover."
Fern's eyes immediately darted toward Stark, her brow furrowing. "Lord Stark?"
"I-I don't know anything about that! I swear! Why would I know flower meanings?!" Stark stammered, flailing his arms in protest.
Fern's expression grew even darker. "…Makes sense. You're a fool, after all."
"Why are you being extra mean today?!"
Just date already, you two!
"Well, I didn't know that," Frieren said, her tone completely casual. "But what does it matter? Himmel probably didn't know the flower's meaning either."
"…"
Aesc silently glared at Frieren before reaching out to ruffle her hair with deliberate force.
"Lady Aesc, you're ruining Lady Frieren's hair again," Fern said, voicing her mild complaint.
Frieren, confused, brushed a hand over her now-messy head and turned to look at Aesc with a questioning gaze.
"Aesc, are you mad at me?"
"No," Aesc replied after a pause. "I'm mad at myself."
There was no way that hero who loved flowers so much didn't know the meaning of the mirror lotus…
But Aesc couldn't say that. She had no right to speak the words that the hero himself had left unsaid.
Her silence lingered, accompanied by a bitter smile. Once again, she tousled Frieren's hair, more roughly this time. Frieren, for her part, didn't resist, letting the neat style Fern had worked so hard to achieve fall into disarray under Aesc's hand.
Somehow, the faint melancholy in Aesc's expression struck a chord of familiarity in Frieren's heart.
It was as though she had seen that same look not too long ago—etched into the face of another person.
---
"Frieren, you really worked hard on that last subjugation mission. As a reward, pick something you like from here," Himmel said with a grin.
"Jewelry, huh? I'd be happier if you took me to a magic shop instead," Frieren replied in her usual flat tone.
Despite her indifference, her eyes quickly landed on a mirror lotus ring among the pile of modest, inexpensive trinkets.
"This one, then."
"So fast? Take it seriously and pick something nicer," Himmel said, exasperated.
He took the ring from her hand, and for a moment, a strange silence fell over him.
"What's wrong?" Frieren asked, tilting her head.
"…It's nothing."
Himmel's face broke into a smile—one that Frieren, in her naïveté, didn't understand at the time.
It was a smile laced with a bittersweet ache, one that could twist the heart of anyone who saw it.
But Frieren had been too oblivious to grasp the emotions behind it.
As the shopkeeper thanked them for their purchase, the two left side by side, walking into the glow of the setting sun.
"Frieren," Himmel called softly.
"Hmm? Thanks," she replied nonchalantly, assuming he was handing the ring back to her. She held out her hand, entirely unaware of what was about to happen.
Himmel's expression softened further, lit by the golden hues of twilight.
His smile was gentle yet filled with resignation, like a man coming to terms with something beyond his control.
As his cloak fluttered in the evening breeze, Himmel knelt down on one knee before her.
Under the watchful gaze of the setting sun and the passage of time, he slid the ring onto her finger.
The moment seemed to stretch into eternity.
Kneeling on one knee, Himmel placed the ring on Frieren's ring finger. The oblivious elf stared at him in shock, but Himmel knew… this would be the only confession he'd ever make.
As a hero, Himmel possessed wealth, status, and even love to offer her. Yet of all the jewelry available, Frieren had chosen a mirror lotus ring—a ring that symbolized eternal companionship. It was the one promise Himmel could never make to her.
Still, he knelt without hesitation. Himmel, when you slipped that ring onto the elf's finger, were you lamenting the brevity of your life? Or were you struggling to contain the overwhelming love you felt for her?
From the shadows of the shop's corner, a figure closed a notebook, sealing the memory of that moment in ink.
The angle of her vantage point was perfect, framing the scene so that the town's clock tower stood between Himmel and Frieren, as if to emphasize the inescapable barrier of time separating them.
For all her teasing, Aesc had always liked girls. But in that fleeting moment, she couldn't help but admit that Himmel was truly… captivating.
Ever since meeting Himmel, Aesc had spent years trying to find a way to extend his lifespan so he could stay with Frieren.
But she failed.
Magic offered no solutions, so she had turned to a divine relic from the Campione world—the [Savior's Blade], which housed the powers of the gods.
While the relic could indeed extend one's lifespan, it could do nothing for the erosion of a mortal soul over millennia. Even divine tools couldn't shield a human soul from the ravages of time.
In this world, the longer one lived, the duller their emotions became. It was this detachment that allowed long-lived races to endure the passage of centuries without breaking.
Forcing Himmel to live for thousands of years would only result in two tragic outcomes: either he'd lose all emotion, or his soul would collapse entirely.
Neither option was acceptable.
In the end, Aesc chose to let Himmel write his story, his way.
As she watched the sky grow dimmer, Aesc murmured softly to herself,
"A love letter written with one's entire life… that's the most sincere confession of all.
Oh, you clueless elf, when will you finally understand that letter? And when will you finally see the truth in your own heart?"
---
29 years after Himmel's death…
Aesc and her group finally arrived in the magical city of Äußerst.
"That's it for now. Stark and I will find us a place to stay. Aesc, you and Fern head to the association and sign up for the first-tier mage exam," Frieren said curtly, already turning to leave without waiting for their response.
But before she could get far, a hand clamped firmly around the back of her collar.
"Don't be ridiculous. You're coming with us," Aesc said, lifting Frieren like a misbehaving kitten.
"Lady Frieren really doesn't seem to care about becoming a first-tier mage," Fern observed with a sigh.
Still holding Frieren by her collar, Aesc muttered, "Honestly, I don't want to go either. Exams give me bad memories."
Frieren's eyes lit up with a sudden, devious hope. "Then let's both skip it. Fern can sign up alone."
"Nice try," Aesc said with a smirk. "I'm dragging you along as backup insurance."
"…" Frieren fell silent, her brief rebellion thoroughly crushed.
When the group arrived at the Continental Magic Association's grand hall to register for the exam, Frieren's defiant posture remained unchanged—she still hung limp in Aesc's grip by the back of her robe.
Their arrival drew curious stares from passersby, though most of the attention seemed to be directed at Frieren's petite frame and striking features.
Approaching the receptionist, they heard a sharp announcement:
"Only mages ranked Level 5 or higher may register for this exam."