Translator’s Note: Greetings, esteemed readers!
If any of you spot a name, term, or title in this translation that deviates from the official Frieren canon, please do not hesitate to point it out.
You can simply leave a comment directly on the specific paragraph where the mistake appears.
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Thank you all so much for your keen eyes and continued support!
____________________ Northern Continent.
Nym Forest.
Ronan walked aimlessly, dressed in simple clothing, a longsword slung across his back.
Beneath his feet was soft soil, the fragrance of dew mingling with the pleasant scenery around him, refreshing to the heart and mind.
Yet he noticed none of it, his mood heavy with melancholy.
Clink.
A gold coin bounced and fell, caught in his palm.
“Five days.
A full five days, and I still haven’t come across a single town…” Crunch.
The gold coin crumbled into powder.
He merely glanced at it briefly, then tossed it aside without a second thought.
He walked over to a tree and sat down beside it.
Recalling everything that had happened, he couldn’t help but sigh with despondency: “If there’s no town, what’s the point of my Infinite Wealth?” “Damn it.” “What kind of godforsaken place is this?
Is it uninhabited?” “Where the hell did I even transmigrate to?” Five days ago, Ronan had just been an ordinary corporate wage slave.
His days were packed with work, forcing him to stay late constantly.
That night, he’d come home hoping to slack off for a bit—opened his game, fired up Feng Ling Yue Ying, and then…
Translator Note: Feng Ling Yue Ying (风灵月影) is the alias of FLiNG, the world’s most popular creator of PC game trainers and cheats (strictly for single-player games).Gamers often jokingly call him the “Feng Ling Yue Ying Sect” because his trainers allow players to become invincible with features like infinite health or unlimited money.
He dropped dead.
Perhaps his emotions had simply been too worked up.
It was sudden, yet somehow made sense.
He’d figured his next life might be better, and as it turned out…
He didn’t get a next life at all.
Because he’d transmigrated—bringing all of his cheats with him.
He’d assumed a cheat-powered life needed no explanation, but he hadn’t expected there wouldn’t be a single soul around…
Thankfully, he’d activated HP Lock and Infinite Stamina, so even going without food for hundreds of years would pose no problem whatsoever.
Otherwise, in an environment like this primordial forest, he would have starved to death long ago.
As for Speed Hack and Teleport…
it wasn’t that he hadn’t considered them, but Ronan had overlooked one crucial issue.
Reality wasn’t a game.
It wasn’t a world made of preloaded data — everything, everywhere, was constantly changing.
A two-dimensional construct placed into a three-dimensional world was fundamentally different in certain ways, like the modification of various parameters.
Under normal circumstances, Feng Ling Yue Ying could modify an enemy’s stats.
However, that modification relied on the premise that the game’s developers had already set numerical values for the enemy in the first place.
If an enemy had no stats to begin with, how exactly was he supposed to modify anything?
Furthermore, he was a single person, acting from a first-person perspective—not the common third-party viewpoint, the so-called god’s-eye view.
Therefore, without a wide field of vision, the moment he used Speed Hack, if his thinking couldn’t keep up with his movements, the most likely outcome was crashing headfirst into a tree.
Sure, it didn’t cost him any HP.
But his clothes…
That was a sensation he had no desire to experience a second time after the first.
So he quickly gave up on trying to be the Flash and switched to a slower, double-speed pace instead.
Five days…
And he still hadn’t managed to walk out of a single forest…
Rustle, rustle.
The tree shade swayed, sunlight glaring down.
Ronan leaned against the trunk and let out a long sigh.
He crushed a few more gold coins, his mood lightening somewhat as he vented his frustration through sheer force.
In truth, he could have simply used Flight to leave this place—could even have flown clear off the planet.
But the thought of finally making it to another world, only to not spend some leisurely time here, felt like far too much of a waste.
Back in his old life, he’d never gotten a vacation this good.
The air here was fresher than anywhere in the countryside.
Just as he was thinking this— Rustle~ The bushes not far off shook slightly, leaves rustling.
Whether from the wind or something else, he couldn’t tell.
Ronan’s usual languid demeanor shifted, his gaze turning toward that spot with a hint of wariness.
Though there were no people in this forest, there were plenty of animals—he’d already come across saber-toothed tigers and griffins along the way.
That was precisely why he’d concluded this place was another world.
“…Not coming out?” He stared at the spot for a good while, but no one emerged from behind the bushes.
Ronan slowly rose to his feet, brushing the dust off his clothes, and picked up the longsword beside him, gripping it lightly.
Even though HP Lock meant he feared no attack, appearances still mattered.
—This sword was something he’d picked up in a cave he passed by.
Good quality, finely crafted—though for some reason it had been stuck into the ground.
He approached the bushes.
Ronan paused mid-step, suddenly remembering something.
He activated X-Ray Vision and looked toward the spot.
The area once concealed by the bushes became clearly visible—there was a little girl there…
No, a pointy-eared little girl, crouched down.
She was holding a basket.
—Pointy ears?
—An Elf?
Ronan’s brow furrowed slightly.
That was the first thought that came to mind, given his impressions from his past life.
In the anime and novels of his previous life, pointy ears were almost always tied to elves.
Of course, he couldn’t rule out the possibility of a goblin—though where would you find such a pretty goblin…
He stood in place, pondering for a moment.
Even though the other party wasn’t human, he slowly made his way forward anyway.
And then— As it turned out, he’d been right.
…
“An elf…
got lost while out gathering herbs, having wandered too deep into the forest?” “And socially awkward on top of that…” “Well, that makes sense.
Long-lived races are usually few in number, so with no one to talk to, it’s natural she’d be poor with words.” “Or maybe…
she’s afraid of humans?” Ronan stroked his chin, his gaze carrying a hint of understanding as he studied the elf girl before him.
She was short in stature, roughly a meter fifty or so, her fair skin tinged faintly pink, like a doll carved from delicate jade.
On the surface she looked to be about twelve or thirteen, but given that elves generally lived very long lives, she might well be far older than he was.
As for how Ronan could understand the Elvish language…
that had nothing to do with his cheats—it had to do with the body he currently inhabited.
Though his appearance remained his own, something had changed in certain respects; perhaps Elvish was even the common tongue of this continent.
The girl noticed Ronan’s gaze but, being shy around strangers, didn’t dare look up.
Her heart was in great turmoil, because the elders in her village had told her that young elves like herself were best off not having too much contact with humans.
Especially male humans.
She didn’t know the exact reason, but she’d always strictly upheld that rule.
She never expected that today, having gotten lost, she would end up breaking it.
Seeing the girl’s hesitant manner, Ronan—assuming she was worried about her own fate—snapped out of his contemplation.
He had no idea what was actually going through the elf girl’s mind.
Simply speaking as a passerby, he said casually: “I think I’ve got the gist of things.
You want my help getting home, right?” “Unfortunately, I’m new here myself and don’t know the area very well.” “But…
well, never mind.
Do you know which direction your home is?
Or roughly where it might be?” “Let’s give it a try—I’ve already spent more than enough time in this place.” “Finally found someone.
Well…
maybe not a human.
Elf, whatever, doesn’t matter.
What’s your name?” Hearing the question, the girl slowly raised her head.
Her white hair drifted in the wind.
She pressed her lips together, and seeing that Ronan seemed to bear no ill intent, hesitated for a moment before finally, slowly, speaking a few words: “Frieren.” Her voice was flat, cold and distant, devoid of any emotion—like the stream running through this forest, quietly flowing on.
After a brief pause, as though she’d grown somewhat accustomed to the situation, she studied Ronan carefully and asked in return: “Human, what’s your name?”