Nina walked ahead, holding Lara’s hand and leading the way, while Lara trailed behind secretly pulling up Nina’s data.
Nina Race: Human (Healthy) / Age: 16 Grip Strength: 39kg / Mana: 1 0083 informed Lara that 39kg was roughly on par with an ordinary person from her previous life.
In this world, a normal human’s physical constitution was about the same as a modern-day person’s — while demons could reach roughly twice that.
Which meant Lara’s own score of 223 put her in dwarf territory.
Mana was the same story.
Accounting for her age, her current level far exceeded that of untrained peers.
Her mana talent might genuinely be a once-in-a-century find in this world — it was just a shame there were so few people to compare against.
So far, the only trained individual she’d encountered was Aura.
She needed to gather more data.
Getting a read on Frieren would be ideal; with those two as reference points, she could use her knowledge of the plot to gauge other fighters’ power levels.
She followed Nina into the living room, where the uncle from that morning and a woman were already seated at the table waiting.
The moment the uncle saw Lara walk in, he broke into a sheepish grin.
“Terribly sorry about this morning, young miss — I spotted you alone near the forest and thought you might be a demon.
I truly didn’t mean to leave you like that.” “Not at all, not at all!
If it weren’t for you, I might still be floating downriver somewhere.” The uncle looked a little embarrassed.
After all, he had turned tail and bolted that morning — and over such an adorable kid, no less.
How had he ever managed to scare himself like that?
Lara sat a little stiffly, but Nina jumped in with her usual warmth and made the introductions.
“This is my dad — you can call him Uncle Haiven.
He’s the one who carried you home this morning.
And this is my mom, Rowan.
She made everything we’re having tonight, and it’s absolutely delicious — you have to try everything!” With Nina acting as a buffer, Lara gradually relaxed and worked her way through the wonderful meal.
Through conversation with Uncle Haiven, she pieced together a clearer picture of the southern continent.
The Southern Nations to the north were embroiled in ongoing wars, making the southward route to the port — and then by ship to the Central Nations — considerably safer.
It was a straightforward call, almost not worth deliberating over.
But there was one critical complication: Aura was somewhere to the south.
The forest was vast, so running into her wasn’t guaranteed — but if they did meet, it was as good as a death sentence.
Either direction was a gamble.
Ugh.
What is Aura even doing in the south?
By rights, Aura should only ever be in the north — both times Frieren encountered her, it was in the north.
Sherlock Holmes once said: when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
In other words — after losing to the Hero’s party, Aura had crossed an entire ocean and fled from the north all the way to the southern continent to lie low?
Who did she think she was, Muzan Kibutsuji?
The behavior was positively inhuman.
Well — she wasn’t human, so there was that.
As the old saying goes: the most dangerous place is the safest place.
Because the southern continent was so far removed from the north, it had almost no demon presence to begin with, which meant almost no one would come looking for her here.
If events unfolded the way they did in the original story, Aura would stay hidden until Himmel died — meaning the south was still, in practical terms, the safer path.
Once Lara had reasoned it through, she stopped agonizing.
It was a gamble either way, so she decided to follow her gut: avoid the war.
People were unpredictable, and no one could know what would happen once she stepped into a war zone.
“In a couple of days, Nina and I will be heading down to the southern port to sell off the freshwater catch from these past few days — we can take you along on the way.
That said, if you’re aiming for the Central Nations, you’d need to get to a different port further west.
That’s the one with ships that go straight there.” Uncle Haiven shared his itinerary with Lara, and helpfully pointed out the locations of nearby towns as reference.
“The two ports aren’t far apart, but there’s a mountain range sitting between them — cutting across overland really isn’t an option.
For you, spending a bit of time at the southern port and then taking a boat over to the western port isn’t a bad way to go.” Lara had claimed to be an adventurer, but she had absolutely nothing on her — which naturally meant no money for a boat fare.
She was going to have to figure out how to earn some.
“Uncle, here’s the thing — you know I ran into a demon, right?
When I was escaping, I had to leave all my luggage behind.
So I was thinking — would it be alright if I helped with the fishing these next two days?
Don’t let my size fool you; I’m actually quite strong.
You can just pay me whatever you think is fair at the end!
Please!” “Dad, I’m begging you too — please help Lara out.” Lara did her best to look as pitiful as possible, while Nina worked her magic on the side with the full force of her best puppy-dog eyes.
Uncle Haiven could only scratch his head and agree, taking Lara on as a helper for two days.
And so for the next two days, Lara spent her mornings and afternoons out on the boat lending a hand, and her nights quietly probing the limits of her abilities — taking the opportunity to run identification scans on the nearby villagers, and discreetly lifting a few strands of Nina’s hair.
Night.
Lara sat in her room reviewing the villager data she’d collected during the day.
Unfortunately, the other villagers had even less mana than Nina — especially the elderly ones, whose readings were trending toward zero.
It seemed that as ordinary people aged, their mana declined alongside their physical faculties to varying degrees.
So mana and physical condition were connected after all.
Still, judging by the mages she’d seen in the anime, cultivated mana — the kind built up through dedicated training — was probably more important in the long run.
Lara took out Nina’s hair and communicated with 0083 silently in her mind, being careful not to be caught muttering to herself.
‘Can I use this to directly parse her existence and strength?’ ‘Yes.
Parsing speed increases along the following spectrum: visual analysis, tactile contact, and direct absorption, in that order.
Visual analysis yields all information except physical substance — for example, magic and special abilities.
Tactile contact grants access to partial physical substance, along with a small bonus to mana.
Direct absorption yields the majority of physical substance, encompassing bodily strength, mana, and magic alike.’ 0083 confirmed it was possible, then instructed Lara to hold Nina’s hair in her palm and close her eyes to feel.
Lara did exactly that.
‘Existence replication — no result.’ …?
‘What happened?’ ‘The situation is as follows, Master: Nina’s existence and strength are already quite minor to begin with, and with only a few strands of hair, the effect was simply swallowed up by your own existence before it could register.
No change occurred — in other words, the quantity is insufficient.’ 0083 laid it out plainly.
Unwilling to accept that, Lara choked back her gag reflex and swallowed the strands of hair whole, hoping something would change.
‘Existence replication — negligible effect.’ Mana +0 The facts were right there in front of her.
Lara could only gain strength from organisms of sufficient potency — she couldn’t go the death-by-a-thousand-ants route and accumulate power from tiny creatures.
For someone as deeply committed to self-preservation as she was, this was not good news.
Lara collapsed onto the bed, arms and legs splayed out like a starfish.
“This life is unlivable.” To live in peace she needed to be strong.
To get strong she needed to engage with stronger beings.
Engaging with stronger beings meant engaging with danger.
Therefore: peaceful life = engaging with danger.
A perfect death loop.
Lying there on the bed, Lara replayed the events of the past two days.
Her physical strength had done wonders for Uncle Haiven’s fishing efficiency — watching a small girl suddenly produce force that had absolutely no business coming from a body her size had given the old man quite a fright.
He’d very nearly suspected her of being a demon again.
Some adventurer she was, knowing nothing about the power structures of the cities around her.
Faced with his questions, Lara had brushed it off with a vague claim of being naturally gifted, and always sticking to back roads.
Given that Lara’s personality was clearly nothing like a demon’s, the matter had been dropped.
Still, it was a good reminder: don’t keep showing off strength that didn’t match her apparent profile.
This time she’d gotten lucky with decent people — but the next person might be quicker to put a knife in her back.
Lara lay on the bed and raised her right hand, gazing up at the ceiling through her open palm.
Slowly, she curled her fingers into a fist — as if trying to grab hold of something.
Strength.
Only by holding it firmly in her own hands could she avoid being at the mercy of others in a world that spoke the language of fists — and only then could she truly follow her own heart.
With that thought, Lara drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Lara, Uncle Haiven, and Nina boarded the boat and set off for the southern port — Vit Harbor.
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