Frieren: Reincarnated As a Demon

Chapter 101: The Lying Little Girl·The priest in the Swamp

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The enormous beast that had leapt from the rift near the cave was slain with a single blow. The sheer decisiveness of the act left Fern in stunned silence.

The young village chief, who had fallen to the ground during the commotion, quickly got up and, with eyes sparkling with admiration, ran toward Ash. Without hesitation, she flung herself into his arms.

"Master Ash killed the mountain master with just one strike...! You should marry me~! And then stay here forever, okay~?"

"…What are you talking about?" The strange and abrupt proposal left Ash bewildered.

The young chief, however, responded earnestly. "You don't understand. Our village has a tradition: whoever kills the mountain master must marry the village chief~!"

"Killing the mountain master means marrying the village chief? …Are children these days capable of spouting such nonsense with a straight face?"

Despite his victory, Ash found himself unexpectedly cornered by the overly enthusiastic young chief, who shamelessly took advantage of her youth.

The girl, who had lost her mother at a young age and inherited the role of village chief early, now only wanted to keep this powerful man in the village for protection. Clinging to him like a spoiled child, she pleaded persistently.

"I'm serious! And children don't lie! Believe me, Master Ash!"

"…I don't mean to criticize, but what exactly are you talking about? When I met your grandmother, your mother hadn't even been born yet."

"You're not the type to care about things like age, right? Love is what matters! As long as we have that, it's fine~!"

"…Shouldn't that kind of reasoning come from the older person in this situation?"

In this world, precociousness was common, especially for a girl like her, who had faced hardships from a young age and shouldered the weight of leadership early. She seemed to understand the importance of strength better than most.

While Ash could understand her reasons for valuing him so highly and tolerated her clinging to him, he couldn't help but glance at Fern for help.

His pleading look was enough to snap Fern out of her shock.

"Stop pestering Master Ash! It's not ladylike to act like this!" she chided, stepping forward.

Grabbing the back of the young chief's collar, Fern firmly pulled her away despite the girl's protests, flailing arms, and kicking feet. Once the girl was restrained, Fern turned to Ash with curiosity.

"The holy sword here hasn't been pulled out yet," she remarked. "Could it be that… even someone as strong as you can't pull it out, Master Ash?"

"No, he just didn't bother trying," Frieren interjected lazily. "He assumed the goddess wouldn't favor him, so he never even stepped inside."

"Is that so? Maybe the goddess just wants to test you. Come on, give it a try!" Fern urged, her face lighting up with hope.

"I doubt it," Ash replied. "The remaining demon wolves no longer pose a threat, and everything has been resolved. Let's head back."

Fern's hopeful expression faltered as Ash patted her head gently, chuckled, and walked past her without a hint of hesitation. His disinterest in the holy sword was evident—its allure seemed nonexistent to him.

Disappointment shadowed Fern's face, but Frieren quickly followed after Ash. She wasn't particularly concerned about the sword; she simply wanted to find a warm place as soon as possible.

---

After aiding the Sword Village, Ash and his companions were warmly welcomed by its grateful residents. They were even invited to stay at the home of the young village chief.

That evening, a grand feast was held in their honor, organized by the villagers. Throughout the festivities, the young chief refused to abandon her dream of marrying Ash. She remained by his side, acting coquettish and endearing.

Unfortunately, Aunt Yaxu was a serious person and would never entertain the proposal of a young girl. She simply dismissed all the village chief's antics as childish pranks and rejected them repeatedly.

But that night, despite his casual refusals during the day, Ash quietly made his way to the holy cave under the cover of darkness.

Inside the cave, a seemingly simple, broad-bladed sword was embedded in a protruding rock. Its surface bore some rust, a testament to its age.

Considering it had likely been stuck there for thousands of years, its condition wasn't surprising. What was remarkable, however, was how an ordinary rock could keep heroes from pulling the sword free for so long.

Ash reached out tentatively, but a translucent barrier abruptly appeared at the entrance of the cave, ruthlessly blocking his advance.

"…As expected, even after all these years, the barrier still won't let me in," he murmured, stepping back silently.

At that moment, faint purple lightning flickered across his body.

The smaller, more controlled gravitational lightning caused the surrounding space to warp and distort subtly.

Ash raised an additional barrier of his own before releasing the gathered energy in a concentrated burst.

BOOM!

The ground beneath him collapsed under the immense pressure. The goddess's invisible barrier recoiled inward, rippling violently as if it might finally shatter.

However, no matter how relentlessly the thunder hammered against it, the translucent barrier remained intact, unyielding against the onslaught.

"Even after twenty years, it still looks like it's about to break," Ash mused. "But in truth, there's no sign of it giving way. Truly worthy of being a sanctuary barrier bestowed by the goddess. Like those stone tablets, it's a miracle rarely seen in this world."

He stepped closer, and the oppressive force of his gravity magic pushed the barrier even further back.

Eventually, though, his efforts fell short. Reluctantly, he took a few steps back and left the sanctuary.

Before departing, Ash used magic to tidy up the area, erasing any evidence of his midnight attempt.

---

The next morning, the village noticed nothing out of the ordinary and cheerfully gathered to see them off.

But even at the last moment, the young female village chief clung to Ash, desperately trying to convince him to stay and help protect the holy sword with the villagers.

This time, Fern couldn't hold back. Even though the other party was just a child, she stepped in, forcibly separating the girl from Ash and dragging him away.

The young girl wilted like an eggplant struck by frost. With encouragement from the village elders, she reluctantly gave up her attempts—for now.

As they departed, she called out one final promise:

"Master Ash, don't forget this! I'll be waiting for your return! Especially ten years from now! By then, I'll definitely be a beautiful young lady, and I'll greet you in the most dazzling way!"

Her clear, cheerful voice rang out as she waved her little hands energetically, hopping in place with excitement.

"…Sure, if I remember, I'll reply," Ash said, turning back briefly. "Uh… Why are you looking at me like that?"

He caught the subtle glances exchanged by the women walking beside him and quickly coughed, trying to dispel the awkwardness. "I was just joking with the kids…"

Quickening his pace, Ash avoided any further misunderstandings, leaving the two girls to follow.

Fern allowed a faint, barely perceptible smile to curve her lips as she muttered something under her breath, a quiet comment only she could hear. For now, she decided to hold off on lecturing him and hurried to catch up.

---

After leaving Sword Village, the group continued their journey north, crossing the majestic mountains on their way to the Magic City.

As the seasons shifted, the harsh chill of winter gradually gave way to the warmth of spring. Forests along the journey donned their vibrant green attire, lush and teeming with renewed life.

During this time, however, Frieren had yet to return from her herb-picking ventures.

Concerned, Ash was urged by Fern to go find her. He hadn't ventured far when he came across Frieren sitting at the edge of a small swamp. She hugged her knees, staring blankly ahead, while not far from her, an old man was recounting a story.

"…I once had a good friend who loved adventures," the man began, his brown hair tied back in a ponytail, a beard framing his face, and clad in simple monk's robes. He looked wistfully toward the sky as he continued, "He was strong and quick-witted, though his limbs were like those of an orangutan. A good orangutan, though—one who cared deeply for his friends."

The monk's expression turned somber as he spoke. "But as I grew older, and my childhood dreams faded, that guy suddenly showed up. He asked me if I wanted to go adventuring together. If only I'd taken his hand back then... things might have turned out differently. But..."

His voice trailed off as he lowered his head, sighing deeply. "That was ten years ago. Even now, I can't help but regret it."

"Hmm..." Frieren, still seated with her knees hugged tightly, didn't even glance at him. Her expression blank, she replied, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because…" The monk gestured at his surroundings. "The village where I live is hosting a harvest festival, and my elder brother sent me to gather wild vegetables in the forest. But as you can see…" He pointed to the swamp, his body slowly sinking into the mire. "I'm stuck in this bottomless swamp, and there's no hope left for me."

The monk stretched out a mud-caked hand toward Frieren, a faint smile on his face as though seeking salvation. "But if you take my hand now... maybe things can change. Just like they might've changed if I'd taken my friend's hand all those years ago."

"...Wait," Frieren said, tilting her head slightly. "I'm a little confused."

"At this point, is there anything left to worry about?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

"Your hands are dirty." Her answer was immediate, matter-of-fact, and utterly dismissive.

The monk's smile froze. "…This really isn't the time to care about cleanliness, is it? Besides, young lady... all adults are dirty in one way or another."

"But this is the first time I've encountered something so dirty in a physical sense," Frieren replied bluntly, her calm tone unwavering.

She shifted her gaze back to the monk, whose mud-covered hands trembled slightly. Unmoved, she turned her focus elsewhere. "Wait here," she added. "I'll think of a spell to pull you out of the swamp."

"Really? Then... please hurry. You must hurry..."

"I'll do my best."

As the monk despaired quietly, his eyes caught Ash sitting beside Frieren, watching the exchange with mild amusement.

The monk's expression darkened. "And you, handsome young man? Why are you just sitting there, watching?"

"Because it's pretty entertaining," Ash replied, his tone casual.

"R-really? That's great…" the monk muttered sarcastically, on the verge of tears. "But don't you think now's the time to stop watching and help?"

Ash suddenly stood up, feigning realization. "You're right. I just remembered—Fern asked me to do something. If I take too long, she'll scold me."

The monk's face twisted in disbelief as Ash prepared to leave.

The monk, visibly agitated, slapped the surface of the swamp in front of him, sending mud flying in all directions. His voice was filled with frustration as he exclaimed, "—Compared to the life right in front of you, you're prioritizing trivial little things?! It's bad enough that the elf is indifferent, but you've just been standing there, watching for entertainment! Is this really okay?"

Ash responded calmly, arms crossed, "Many lives are lost every second in this world. If you care so much about every death, you'll wear yourself out, don't you think?"

"Yes! That's true!" the monk shot back, his tone rising. "But I'm right here! You can save me with just a simple gesture! The reason the world feels so cold is because there are too many people like you!"

After venting his frustration, the monk took a deep breath, forcing a strained smile as he extended his mud-covered hand again. "Don't you want to make the world a better place? You can start by holding my hand! One small choice can make a difference—it can make the world a little warmer, at least for me! I'll feel that precious warmth!"

Ash looked at the outstretched hand with mild disgust. "Your hands are filthy... I'd really rather not wash them."

"I'll wash them for you!" the monk shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "I'll make sure there's not a single speck of mud left! So please, hurry up!"

Ash frowned, his expression troubled. "...But the image you're describing is just gross. Honestly, I don't want an old man holding my hand so carefully. Couldn't it at least be a pretty older sister?"

At this, Frieren, who had remained motionless and expressionless the entire time, turned her head slightly and said without hesitation, "...I'm not helping you wash them, just so you know."

Ash shot her a withering look. "Don't be so full of yourself. Take a good look at yourself before calling yourself a 'big sister.'" His tone dripped with disdain, as though he was long accustomed to her boasts.

The monk, however, seemed personally offended. He pointed at Frieren with a mix of disbelief and outrage. "—That? That can be called a big sister?! Don't insult the word 'big sister'!"

Frieren raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. "Forget about Ash being rude. Are you even aware of your situation? Do you still want to be rescued?"

"If you ask me which is more important, life or faith—" the monk began dramatically.

"Life?" Frieren interrupted, unimpressed.

"No! Before answering that, let me remind you of the demon—Qual! Help, help—!"

The monk's words were cut off as he sank deeper into the swamp, his mouth submerging. He sputtered and released a trail of bubbles.

"Master Ash, what are you—huh?" Fern's voice rang out as she arrived at the scene, trailing off in confusion. She had been searching for the source of the cries for help, only to stumble upon an utterly bizarre sight.

Frieren sat near the swamp, hugging her knees, her face devoid of emotion. Beside her, Ash was seated cross-legged, watching the scene unfold with mild curiosity. The monk, now nearly swallowed by the swamp, was flailing in desperation. Yet neither Frieren nor Ash seemed remotely inclined to intervene.

The scene was so surreal that Fern doubted her own eyes. For a moment, she stood frozen, trying to process it. Were they seriously just watching the man drown without offering any help? Or were they simply waiting to see how long it would take for him to disappear completely?

"Ah... I remember now," Frieren suddenly said, breaking the silence. Without waiting for Fern to ask any questions, she reached for the wand beside her, finally recalling the magic she had forgotten.