Elf Town.
The familiar ceiling of the room came into Frieren's view. Everything was as it was, and there was no sign of the barrier's alarm having been triggered.
"Hello again. I'm back."
She spoke to the sunlight shining on her bed from the window. A few specks of dust danced in the light, and when she threw back the covers, they were warm. Then she stretched, slid her feet off the bed and into her slippers, and began to wash up.
The cool water on her face washed away her drowsiness, clearing her hazy vision and refreshing her entire body.
Frieren subconsciously glanced at the kitchen, then remembered that after sleeping for so long, any ingredients would have spoiled. Besides, there was no sign of anything having been restocked; it was exactly as she had left it.
Never mind.
At her level, her physical body didn't need to eat or drink anyway.
In fact, she could clearly sense the augmentation to her body from the two new powers, the dragon's remains and the swift flame, flowing into her. It felt light and comfortable. Posing in front of the mirror, it seemed she had grown a little taller.
Her true body in reality was a vessel for all her different powers; raising the upper limit of the greatest common denominator meant an overall enhancement.
This meant everything was proceeding smoothly.
Entering any world required a corresponding body for that world to avoid conflict, which meant she was always in an incomplete state, feeling an uncomfortable sense of missing a piece. Only in reality was she complete, which was why she always had to come back to rest for a while.
It was morning, and the sun was bright. Since there was no breakfast to be had, she decided to water the flowers instead.
As Frieren opened the door, she felt a gentle breeze on her face, carrying with it the fragrance of flowers. The garden, created by the Magic to Create a Flower Field, was still a riot of color.
Humming a tune, she picked up the watering can.
The gushing water flowed over the clusters of flowers, adorning them like dewdrops, making them even more crystal clear. It even formed a rainbow bridge in mid-air, peaceful and beautiful.
Gradually, more pedestrians appeared on the street in front of her small courtyard.
The town awoke from the night, and people came and went in a continuous stream. From time to time, a carriage would clatter over the stone-paved road, its fully laden cargo bouncing up and down, revealing the colors of gold, silver, and jewels.
Truly worthy of its fame for banking. She wondered how many more treasures had been stuffed into the underground vault she had personally built.
After a brief observation, she confirmed that the population of Elf Town had once again grown.
About 20,000.
One had to remember that the total elven population was only a few thousand, which meant many people had moved here, becoming new blood. After all, with its flourishing commerce, it was convenient to set up a temporary base. For example, numerous merchant guilds had established branches here to facilitate the withdrawal of their gold deposits, which further increased the population.
If one included the transient population, the total number of residents was even more staggering.
If this continued, the neighboring Northwind Fortress would no longer be considered a large city; the land beneath her feet would grow into a new commercial center to accommodate the population.
Coincidentally, the farming conditions in the Elven Forest were also quite good. After expansion, supporting these people locally would be no problem.
She looked toward the horizon and saw many more cultivated fields and figures wielding hoes.
If not for the solid foundation laid by the relentless work of clearing out monsters, the current development would not be so smooth. The long years always connect cause and effect to bring pleasant surprises.
Liveliness is good.
Her experiences in several ruined worlds had made Frieren dislike desolation. True vitality should be filled with the warmth of life. A world that looked on the verge of its end whether one's eyes were open or closed was simply too tragic.
After a glance around, the silver-haired girl put away the watering can.
Then, she picked up a long scythe and did some trimming, especially clearing out the weeds to avoid ruining the garden. Although she could have done it all in one go with magic, that would defeat the purpose of doing chores. It was nice to be busy like this occasionally...
Suddenly, a six-horse carriage, lavishly decorated, stopped in front of the gate. Even the coachman was formally dressed and nodded politely.
"You woke up and didn't tell me?"
Miliardel lifted the door curtain and leaped down from the carriage, her pair of crystal high heels landing carelessly in the wet mud.
She wore a red court dress, and her swan-like neck was adorned with dazzling, unidentifiable jewels that jingled as she gesticulated, giving her the perfect air of new money.
However, she lacked the rotten stench of nobility, carrying instead the familiar aroma of wine.
"That outfit really doesn't suit you. Your mage robes look better."
Before the words had even faded, with a tearing sound, Miliardel actually ripped the hem of her dress. She said resentfully, "I already thought it was a nuisance. Now that even you say it looks bad, this piece of trash isn't even worthy of being in my wardrobe."
She then turned around, went back into the carriage, and the sounds of changing clothes could be heard.
Frieren scratched her head, wondering why her childhood friend cared so much about her opinion. A casual comment that it didn't suit her was enough to make her throw away a priceless formal dress.
A moment later, she stepped down from the carriage again, now dressed in her usual mage robes, naturally unadorned.
Even among the generally fair-faced elven race, Miliardel was outstanding. She was naturally beautiful, and now, presenting her usual appearance, she exuded an approachable and likable aura.
"You must have just returned from a long business trip, right? Come in, sit down, and rest."
The short-haired girl nodded, tipped the coachman, and told him to go to the bank's headquarters first, and preferably to bring back some wine.
She entered the room, glanced around, and a teasing look appeared on her face.
Frieren raised an eyebrow. Based on her understanding of her childhood friend, that expression meant she was about to say something strange.
"You're like a lonely old person in an empty nest with no one to care for you."
"You're talking about old age to an elf? We'd be lucky to live to see the end of the world."
The two bantered as they usually did before taking their seats. Since there was no breakfast, they could only brew tea. Fortunately, these things kept well, still retaining their original jasmine flavor, and drinking it was refreshing to the soul.
Halfway through their tea, the coachman brought a full basket of wine, red wine, and white wine. Miliardel smiled and flicked her finger:
Pop!
The cork came out, and she filled two glasses.
Only after three rounds of drinks did she stretch and say, "So you just woke up. That means the child, Flamme, hasn't been home for a long time. No wonder this place feels so lifeless, so gloomy even in broad daylight."
"You must have been in contact by letter, right?" Frieren asked casually.
"She only said she's busy and mentioned that dealing with the Empire's mages is annoying... That damned Serie must have given her a ton of tasks. What if she gets exhausted?"
"A bit of training is good for her. The more comprehensive her experience, the better. Besides, the headquarters in the Magic City is safe."
"Why are you always so detached? Flamme is your only apprentice."
"She graduated."
Miliardel coughed upon hearing this. So the master-apprentice bond ends with graduation, huh? But then she said seriously, "You should pay more attention to your emotional connection with your apprentice. Don't be so cold all the time. I can't get her to come back, but you probably can. Without her making a ruckus, life feels too quiet..."
"So it's you who's gotten old."
"You're the old one!"
The childhood friends looked at each other, smiled, clinked their glasses, and drank deeply. The taste of the strong liquor burst with heat on their tongues.
Miliardel leaned back in her chair and murmured, "Ever since the winery and bank businesses got bigger, I've felt so busy, running around everywhere. That sense of a normal life is gone, and I started to wonder if it's because the liveliness of you and Flamme is missing."
"...Perhaps."
In truth, when Frieren woke up and saw the unchanged room, she knew that Flamme hadn't returned during her slumber, and a sense of loneliness touched her heart.
But could it be a malady of the long-lived? So she deliberately avoided thinking about it.
But now her childhood friend had spoken her heart so frankly. Though her gestures were a bit exaggerated, wasn't she also trying to hide her loneliness? This made Frieren think about it too. In the end, she had been changed by her apprentice.
"Don't give such a perfunctory answer."
"I really want to kick you out the door and say, 'Don't come home until you find Flamme,' then slam the door shut."
After a moment of contemplation, a flash of insight struck the silver-haired girl, and she finally asked:
"Do you know something? Could there be trouble at the headquarters of the Continental Magic Association?"
"What trouble could befall a city guarded by the progenitor of magic, Serie? No matter how powerful one is, they must bow before the power of the gods' era... It's just that the Northern Empire, which has unified half of the human domain, is trying to absorb the association, causing a lot of harassment. They aim to annex the human nations, and now that the Demon Clan's strength has been greatly diminished, it's time to lay the groundwork for future expansion."
"Ignoring the demon threat?"
"Not quite. The main focus is still on the front against the demons, but they've already diverted some of their energy to recruiting mages to strengthen their military."
"To expand their own influence within that group, right?"
"Exactly. And I think the Empire is certain of one thing: when it comes to a life-or-death situation, you will definitely intervene. So they act with impunity, a bit more arrogantly than before."
Frieren's brow furrowed slightly. It was true. No matter what, she would never allow the demon front line to advance another step.
Her bottom line had been raised.
Because Elf Town was gradually becoming a major enterprise, it also needed a larger area of stability. If the north were in turmoil, it would inevitably affect trade, savings, and construction, causing everyone's quality of life to decline, and that was unacceptable.
"I never said I wouldn't knock down certain over-inflated empires."
The silver-haired girl's tone was unfriendly. She had no fondness for allies who started scheming the moment the front line pressure eased.
Miliardel quickly waved her hands in counsel, "Since they've approached the Magic City, let Serie handle it for now. There's no need for you to get involved. It's not like you understand court politics anyway. Let them rack their brains."
"You're right. I should make a trip to the association headquarters."
She couldn't forget that the research on the Erdtree's Shadow barrier was a project she had to work on with Flamme, and that newly promoted archmage was busy at the headquarters.
That works out.
Besides, she had received an invitation from Serie before. Although a few years is but a moment in an elf's perception of the world, it would be more polite to meet the president sooner rather than later, and they could discuss the matter of the demons at the same time.
She didn't believe that the loss of two of the Seven Sages of Destruction meant the end of the matter. No news meant they were lying low.
And lying low meant brewing a greater conspiracy.
But on second thought, the demons, also being a long-lived race, would need a long time to plan something. There was no need to be on edge. At worst, they could just fight another defensive counterattack.
"The demons have indeed been a bit quieter lately." The drunken elf raised her glass in a celebratory toast. "Let's just call it a brief period of peace."
"It can't be called peace until the Demon King is dead. He gave scattered, savage tribes the name of the Demon Clan and is the absolute hub of the far north."
"Don't you underestimate the Demon King. That guy must be very difficult to deal with."
"I suppose."
To be honest, Frieren hadn't seen any signs of great power in the Demon King's actions. Did building the legendary Demon King's Castle in the northern part of the continent count? In any case, the figure of terror in everyone else's eyes was just that in hers, nothing to be afraid of.
If not for the need to be several times more cautious in reality, she could have ventured deep into demon territory to test their mettle.
Especially now that she had grown stronger, the more radical options seemed more tempting. If those guys went too far, she would risk her trump cards to see the limits of the Demon Clan. She refused to believe they were as strong as the goddess.
But the information Miliardel revealed served as a reminder.
One couldn't simply assume that everything would be over once the Demon King was dead. Now the Empire was restless too.
Of course, hearsay was one thing. She would make her own judgment after arriving at the association headquarters, and at the same time, see Serie's attitude as the president.
"By the way, drinking sullenly here is boring. Want to go for a stroll through the vault?" The drunken elf had a sudden flash of inspiration, as usual.
"A stroll through a place like that?"
"You personally built it, aren't you the least bit concerned? Come on, let me show you how much it has changed."
Without taking no for an answer, her friend dragged Frieren to the bank. The building on the surface was the same as ever, with no changes apart from some extra decorative details. But if one carefully sensed what lay underground, they would discover that the barrier had been strengthened again.
She had intentionally left room for amplification, and it seemed Miliardel was willing to spend the resources.
The more you spend, the more you earn. Security is the best advertisement.
The two took a special hidden elevator down a hundred meters underground. What greeted them was a dense array of hollows, like a honeycomb structure. Each "cell" corresponded to a door, which in her perception were clearly individual passages.
It's been expanded?
And the expansion was well-planned. It actively dug deeper within the existing barrier framework, making it as complex as a labyrinth, yet clearly organized.
If this were a dungeon, it would probably be a lot of fun.
In Frieren's opinion, its complexity was on par with the Grand Archives of Lothric.
Seeing the shocked look on the silver-haired girl's face, the host proudly introduced, "I hired a large number of dwarf artisans to design this, and the construction was handled by the most skilled workers..."
"Aren't you afraid of leaks with such a large-scale organization and coordination?"
"It's fine. In fact, I had each designer submit several drafts, but I only chose one. The people responsible for construction only built one part."
"Sometimes I would even have them deliberately build some abandoned rooms that I wouldn't use, just to create confusion."
"The only drawback is the cost, but once I decided to do it, the budget was unlimited."
"That's just like you!"
Though Miliardel might seem drunk and boisterous on a daily basis, she was not a miser. In fact, she dared to spend money and had a sharp business mind. When she controlled vast resources, it only made projects run more smoothly. In just a short time, she was already building wonders.
A rough estimate placed the wealth in this underground vault as comparable to that of a small nation.
Moreover, Frieren could still hear the busy elevators continuously bringing in funds. There was no telling how much gold and treasure would be stored here in the future.
She nodded in approval, finding it all very novel.
"Frieren, I think I've found the elves' place in this world." Miliardel's tone was prouder than ever before.
Only when a person or an organization finds their place can they move forward without hesitation.
Frieren, of course, understood this principle. What Miliardel had accomplished was truly remarkable, establishing a special economic position for the elven race among the central nations. If it continued smoothly, the legacy would surely be endless.
"'Place' is a bit too general. Do you mean for the elven race to act as asset managers for the powerful? Is our place wealth?"
"No."
"Could it be strength? Not counting the Demon Clan, we have a considerable number of mages."
"Not that either."
Miliardel shook her head, then clenched both her fists. She gazed at her left and right hands and murmured, "With only wealth, one will be plundered. The moment war and chaos break out, they'll come for a 'zero-cost acquisition'."
"With only strength, one falls into tyranny. When you have a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Solving problems with only force is never a long-term solution."
"The combination of wealth and strength is the answer—Power."
"In the past, before the Demon Clan, the elves had no strength. Our northern brethren suffered heavy casualties and were forced from their homes. Before the kingdoms, the elves had no wealth, were not worth protecting, and had no influence. Our pleas, our suffering, and our history were meaningless."
"Now, Frieren, you have shown the Demon Clan what strength is, and so they have obediently retreated."
"I have shown the kingdoms what wealth is, and so for any decision they make, they must invite a representative of the elves for discussion. Even if we give no opinion, they must inform us..."
"This is power."
Having delivered her speech, Miliardel let out a long sigh, feeling much more relaxed. "All this busyness today proves that we are on the right path. The future for the survival of our race has become clearer."
They had to truly participate in the great tide of the war against the demons to gain power.
Otherwise, the northern elven villages are a living example: if you have no influence, your hardships will be ignored.
"Miliardel, you are very wise."
Even the well-traveled Frieren agreed with her friend's judgment. She knew her friend was reliable in a crisis, and now she was becoming reliable in everyday matters as well.
People grow. This drunkard was finally starting to care about things other than wine.
By the standards of The Lands Between, you're practically a demigod. Just as Marika schemed for the future of the Golden Lineage, Miliardel is now thinking about the future of the elven race. How could she stand by and do nothing?
"Is there anything I can do?"
Having grown up together, they were of one mind, sharing a deep understanding. All this preamble surely meant she had a favor to ask. Of course, this wasn't to say Miliardel was being roundabout or testing her; if something was truly wrong, she would have spoken up directly. Right now, it was indeed a heart-to-heart, a venting of emotions.
She stretched and glanced around the honeycomb vault, saying:
"The Empire is constantly moving the wealth of other small nations and forcing them to pay tribute. At the same time, they are recruiting mages and expanding their army. This is strength."
"They are actively expanding their power. Perhaps, given time, they will unify half the continent."
Frieren asked, "So we are in a competitive relationship?"
"Not quite, that's an exaggeration. In terms of scale, the elven race and the Empire are not in competition. I'm concerned about something else: the elven archmage Minus, due to a personal grudge, killed an Imperial mage and destroyed some villages, and is now wanted. She wrote to me for help."
"Mm."
The silver-haired girl paused, about to ask what kind of losses her fellow elf had caused, but her mind turned, and she immediately understood the essence of the matter:
This was not a judicial question of right and wrong, but a political one.
As a king, Frieren immediately came to her senses.
"Understood. We don't need to care about who Minus killed, how much damage she caused, or how many enemies she slew. We only care about one thing: a renowned elf is wanted by the Empire."
"Right. I want to work on it and see if I can help her settle this, as a test of elven influence, and also to see what kind of force the enemy is prepared to use against us."
"Do you need me to step in?"
"That would be best. Because I have a feeling the Empire plans to frame the association's non-cooperation as a grudge with the elves. After all, this organization has two elven presidents, doesn't it? They'll focus the grand conflict into a personal one, a precise strike to stir up the situation. It's very political, but effective."
At these words, Frieren's brow twitched, her eyes glinting with a cold light.
She didn't understand the grubby machinations of politics, but after living for so long, she had at least some experience. The Empire's current move was an attempt to strike at the elven race for the sake of expansion.
After finally beating back the Demon Clan, were they now facing a new enemy? Truly a time of many calamities.
Miliardel grabbed her hand and smiled.
"Don't worry too much. People's lazy minds always like to identify enemies collectively as a single organization. It's a convenient mechanism, but it's also prone to misjudgment, making you feel like many people are against you."
"In reality, that's not the case. The ones targeting you are definitely one or a few specific people. And you have to believe, you're not their only enemy."
"You are also an organization, a representative of an organization that dislikes him."
"Step out of that misunderstanding. Don't fall into the trap of thinking you're fighting alone against many. Negotiation, alliance, and using leverage are the secrets to the struggle."
After her speech, the short-haired girl laughed heartily and downed a glass of wine. In this area, she considered her talent to be greater than her friend's martial prowess. There was no need to be alarmed. At worst, they could just drag things out until the enemies turned to dust, and all grievances would dissipate.
Elves have plenty of time to wear down the short-lived races.
Feeling the warmth from her companion's hand and the optimistic atmosphere, Frieren also smiled. "I got too worked up. I probably haven't fully moved on from the battle with Bayle the Dread, and I'm prone to thinking in the ways of The Lands Between."
The land under the Golden Order never bothered with intrigue. Even someone as clever as Ranni ultimately considered how to maximize the use of force, rather than solving things through politics.
"Adel, you possess great wisdom, better adapted to the rules of this world than I am."
"Hehe, don't say that, I'll get carried away."
"So, which specific elves are being targeted? Names? Appearances? Locations?"
"Pfft—"
The short-haired girl spat out a mouthful of wine, wiped her lips, and poked Frieren's ear in exasperation, scolding:
"Save it. You didn't listen to a single word. If you understood even a little bit of these worldly affairs, would I still need to be running around outside? It's exhausting. You're going to cook for me these next few days in town to make it up to me."
"Alright, alright." The silver-haired girl nodded repeatedly.
"Speaking of which, I've always had a question. Is the Empire so sure it can take the Magic Association? As the only place rich in magical resources, shouldn't it have a strong negotiating advantage?"
"You still have basic intuition, I see. That's right. It's because the Empire has just received the full support of a magical kingdom. The association is no longer the only option."
"Who?"
"Sareytania."
"—It is said they possess advanced technology to control demons and harness their power."
______
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