Frieren: Dominating Aura From the Start Chapter 120: Setup - The Hero Party's Choice and Farewell (T

"Although what my teacher just said was too heartless—"

"But that's indeed the reality..."

"Regarding Qual's matter, I truly cannot spare the ti right now."

Troubled by his teacher's overly indifferent answer and the coldness of lowering his eyes and remaining silent after speaking,

The Hero of the South, gently massaging his brow, responded to Himl and the others in relatively gentle terms.

Mr. Agusheed is one thing...

But is there really sothing in this world that could keep humanity's strongest Hero of the South from sparing ti?

Himl, who had recently experienced the Hero of the South's exaggerated strength, felt his eyelid twitch.

His intuition had always been accurate...

And this casually revealed statent from the Hero of the South gave Himl an extrely ominous premonition.

But seeing that the Hero of the South clearly didn't want to elaborate on this topic, he didn't ask inappropriately,

Simply nodding slightly to show understanding.

"Agusheed and the mustached uncle both can't go..."

"Hmm..."

"I have a feeling our trip to the Southern Nations will be very dangerous..."

Frieren muttered softly with feigned worry, her gaze occasionally glancing toward Agusheed by the fireplace.

Obviously, she wanted to get so magical tools and information from her old father that could save their lives at critical monts.

Like so one-ti Spatial Slash, or flaws in Qual's Killing Magic.

But Agusheed acted as if he hadn't seen anything, quietly drinking his tea.

Completely unlike the attitude he should have before parting with his beloved daughter.

Sothing's wrong...

Detective magical girl has discovered a blind spot.

Agusheed wasn't deliberately ignoring her—he simply hadn't noticed.

Hmm...

It seems like Agusheed is thinking about sothing...

Paying no attention to Himl's trio beside her who had already begun discussing with the Hero of the South about the itinerary to the Southern Nations and possible crises they might face,

The white-haired elf puffed out her cheeks, supporting her face with one hand.

Imitating Flam from back then, she began speculating about Agusheed's thoughts.

Is Agusheed thinking about Flam?

...Doesn't seem like it...

When he thinks about Flam, he always unconsciously fidgets with the ring on his hand...

But now, he's...

Staring at his palm in a daze?

'Palm'—

Frieren felt like she had grasped so key point.

Co to think of it...

Since returning from Flam's statue, that is, from the Hero's Sword—

Agusheed seems to keep looking at his palm from ti to ti...

That gaze—

It was similar to how he looked at Flam a thousand years ago when she was injured by magic experints.

Agusheed... got hurt?

In this backwater place called Village of Swords?

Even the Blood-Stained War God at zero distance couldn't leave a scratch on Agusheed...

Himl, Hero of the South, Agusheed—

Did the three of them do sothing at the Hero's Sword that they didn't tell us about?

No way...

Agusheed went there to see Flam's statue, didn't he?

Himl and the Hero of the South were just trying to draw the Hero's Sword...

Wait—

Speaking of trying to draw the Hero's Sword,

Himl still hasn't told us the result of his attempt...

Thinking of this, Frieren's gaze slowly settled on the 'sword' at Himl's waist—

Whether it was her imagination or not, the white-haired elf felt this 'sword' seed brighter than usual...

(PS: Actually, it was just washed in the snow after being knocked away by the Hero of the South's sword.)

Himl's previous sword was a replica of the Hero's Sword—

And this one seems better compared to the previous 'replica'...

An astonished expression appeared on the white-haired elf's face.

As if understanding everything, she stared intently at the blue-haired hero standing in the center of Heiter and Eisen,

Currently chatting eloquently with the Hero of the South.

No way...

Could it be that the reason the mustached uncle has been wearing an expression of not worrying about our journey,

And why Agusheed seems to have injured his palm is—

Himl drew that legendary Hero's Sword?!

Huh?

Frieren, clever as can be, had an epiphany.

It all connects, everything can be explained clearly—

Only the Hero's Sword could injure Agusheed...

So that ans...

Himl definitely drew the legendary Hero's Sword!!

If that's the case, then there's indeed no need to worry about a re Qual. (smug face)

After all, arrogance requires ability—

And Himl, having drawn the Hero's Sword, has exactly that!

With such expectations, Frieren thrust herself into the center of Himl, Heiter, Eisen, and the Hero of the South.

"Himl..."

Regarding the white-haired group pet who had abruptly interrupted their conversation—

No one showed any dissatisfaction, especially upon hearing her call Himl by na.

Heiter and Eisen began gossiping as usual.

But upon hearing the excited Frieren's next words...

The alcoholic monk's stunned gaze looked directly at Himl beside him.

—'Did you draw the Hero's Sword?'

The white-haired elf's near-certain words left everyone frozen in place simultaneously.

Agusheed, who had actually accomplished this feat, looked up from his thoughts.

The Hero of the South, curious about whether Himl would react as he had seen in the future, remained silent.

Himl, whose heart had been pierced, showed a helpless bitter smile—

Although he didn't know why Frieren would have such a misunderstanding,

He still planned to honestly tell the white-haired elf the result.

But before he could speak...

The village chief's wooden house door was knocked open by the collapsed forty-seventh generation village chief.

The little girl who had just gone out to fetch precious tea leaves for Agusheed looked shocked—

Seeing this scene...

Himl, feeling he was about to experience social death, slowly covered his face with his palm,

Sighing helplessly.

—

"So you didn't?"

"And even the Hero of the South, the strongest human throughout history, didn't manage it either?"

"The two strongest heroes of our ti aren't actually true Heroes..."

"Sorry, I lost my composure—"

"I just thought, like the previous village chief, that I might see the day the war ends in my lifeti..."

After Himl cleared up the misunderstanding,

Compared to Frieren, whose little face turned red from guessing wrong,

The forty-seventh generation village chief's reaction seed more disappointed and dejected.

Witnessing the appearance of a true Hero had been the cherished wish of successive village chiefs of the Village of Swords for a thousand years.

Unfortunately—

Even in her generation, this wish couldn't be fulfilled.

If even Hero Himl and the Hero of the South weren't true heroes...

How much longer would the Village of Swords have to wait?

The small village chief's disappointnt was visible to the naked eye, but everyone present wasn't looking at her.

Frieren, Heiter, and Eisen were all watching Himl, who calmly stated without any ripples that he hadn't been able to draw the Hero's Sword.

But the little girl's unconscious words in her disappointnt were heard word for word by them.

Neither are true Heroes...

After hearing this piercing unconscious remark,

Heiter, who had once said similar things, looked at Himl with so concern.

His childhood slip of the tongue still troubled him to this day—

As a close friend, he should never have said such things...

In fact, regardless of whether Himl could draw the Hero's Sword—

In Heiter's heart, he was a true Hero.

However, obviously Heiter's concern was unnecessary.

Himl paid no attention to such piercing words.

He simply gently stroked the false Hero's Sword at his waist—

Calm and serene.

Just like Agusheed had maintained during that month of hellish training on the Heaven Vein Dragon.

Just like the Hero of the South in Eisen's eyes at this mont, who had never wavered for a mont,

—Himl felt no disappointnt about being a false Hero.

Even under the gazes of the small village chief, Frieren, Heiter, and Eisen,

He could still chuckle easily.

"Being a false Hero is fine too..."

Under the Hero of the South's approving and relieved gaze, Himl slowly spoke.

"As long as we can ultimately subjugate the Demon King and end the thousand-year human-demon war—"

"That way, whether it's real or fake doesn't matter..."

"I think my senior feels the sa way, right?"

Agusheed's hand raising the teacup stopped in mid-air.

'Subjugate the Demon King',

'End the thousand-year human-demon war'—

Such foolish words, he rarely refrained from criticizing.

His gaze turned to Himl, who was declaring before his stupid disciple:

—'Let defeating Qual be the starting point for subjugating the Demon King'...

Agusheed let out a light chuckle.

It wasn't mockery, but more like nostalgia—

'Let defeating XXX be the starting point for subjugating the Demon King'...

In the past, Flam's stupid disciples had all said such foolish things one by one.

The current Himl was just like that group of fools who successively pursued death...

...

Such a pity—

If they weren't about to part here, Agusheed would really like to witness more of the blue-haired hero's story.

But there was no choice.

Regarding seeing Flam—

Except for the Demon King, who would truly perish with him if Agusheed approached Aureole,

No person or matter could make Agusheed stop in his tracks.

So...

This is enough.

This journey has been long enough, hasn't it?

Another helpless chuckle, Agusheed looked at the empty teacup and moved his fingers slightly.

Hmm...

Noticing Agusheed laughing for so unknown reason, everyone turned around simultaneously.

Agusheed, slowly rising, was placing his teacup on the wooden table—

"Have you decided to go to the Southern Nations to subjugate Qual?"

Without leaving silently with the Hero of the South...

Agusheed slowly approached, and after using Magic to Confuse Short-term mory to make the only outsider,

The little village chief, gradually beco dazed—

He chose to have a final conversation with Frieren and Himl's group.

"Yes."

Frieren and Himl's group exchanged glances and nodded in unison.

"Your chances of defeating Qual are slim—"

"Even if we're false Heroes, we won't retreat before battle..."

Himl's self-deprecating joke didn't receive Agusheed's affirmation.

He simply lowered his eyes and gave Frieren and Himl's trio one final look.

"If you really can't match Qual..."

"Then say my na to him—"

"It can save your lives at critical monts."

Save lives...

Such words—

Feel sowhat like final instructions before leaving...

Wait...

Before leaving?

Watching Agusheed ruffling Frieren's white hair, as if making a final farewell to his daughter,

Himl was montarily speechless.

And not just him—everyone present noticed this.

Only the Hero of the South showed no surprise.

Rather, in his view...

Agusheed not turning around and leaving imdiately after everyone ca down was already fortunate.

"It's about ti. I should continue with my business."

After just this vague explanation—

After knocking his stupid daughter's head once, Agusheed's gaze turned to the Hero of the South, who was also rising.

No sentintal farewells.

No overly awkward attempts to stay or lodrama.

Even the emotionally dense Frieren knew not to make a fuss at this mont.

Agusheed turned around, and at the last mont before stepping forward, he looked back.

He symbolically waved his hand in calm—

"I'm going."

—

Fifty-ninth year before the Sinseki Era, the first year of the hero party's departure.

The thirty-eighth day of searching for Serie—

At the Village of Swords, the hero party and Agusheed...

Parted ways.

—

"In normal futures, what's the result of their subjugation of Qual?"

"In the futures I've seen, there are 8,300 stalemates, and 77 tis where they seal him at the cost of near-total annihilation, taking advantage of Qual's montary carelessness."

"What about failures?"

"Since Schlacht and I made our joint choice, there have been no failed outcos—

The only remaining uncertainty...

Is just that Demon King who hasn't yet made his final decision."

In the study of the Heaven Vein Dragon castle—

Agusheed and the Hero of the South's brief conversation ended with the sound of a closing door.

Having obtained the answer he wanted to know, the strongest Grand Demon looked through the window,

Gazing far toward the Village of Swords that was gradually growing distant.

He didn't use magic to observe the hero party at this mont,

Simply watching the distance quietly like this.

Recalling the group first boarding the Heaven Vein Dragon above Count Granat's Territory...

Thinking back to first eting Himl in Frieren's room that morning...

The Equal Contract's lightning of dissolution...

The white-haired elf rolling around in the Library—

The alcoholic monk nearly driven mad by the test of the original Holy Staff in the Imperial Cathedral...

The dwarf warrior on the Western Plains who was knocked down again and again by Rivale's replica but never gave up—

Examining every mont of this richest period in a thousand years...

The strongest Grand Demon, unable to suppress mories of the past journey to and from Aureole, remained silent.

He closed his eyes in silence.

The endless sea of clouds stretched endlessly, the Heaven Vein Dragon's roar deep and steady.

Flam's light laughter echoed in his ears, that touch of red hair appearing and disappearing.

Agusheed had a good sleep after a long ti.

He fell into deep sleep in the study's chair—

What dreams, unknown...

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Powerstones?

For 20 or 10 advance chapters: /michaeltranslates