Fern finally couldn’t help herself.
She spoke up, asking, “Um…
what does it feel like to turn from a person into a monster?”
The cart jolted gently on the dirt road, the sound of wheels grinding over pebbles particularly clear in the morning air.
Luo Han turned his head and saw Fern’s violet eyes filled with pure curiosity.
He wondered: was this a mage’s instinctive urge to investigate unknown phenomena?
Or was it simply a young girl’s curiosity?
“The feeling?” Luo Han leaned against the side of the cart, watching the clouds drift slowly across the sky.
“It felt like my entire consciousness was spinning.
When I woke up, I found my mind trapped inside a box.
“At first, I couldn’t even move.
I could only wait for someone to come and open me.
Then, instinct would drive me to devour that person.
Fortunately, the first person I met was Frieren.
Otherwise, it would have been very hard to turn back…”
He paused, selectively omitting the parts that would be more complicated to explain.
“I’m used to it now, though.” Luo Han spread his palm, observing the texture of human skin under the sunlight.
“At least this mimicry magic makes me look human.”
“How incredible…” Fern murmured, her grip on her staff tightening unconsciously.
“Is the magic that turned you into a monster also…
magic?”
Frieren, who had been looking through a grimoire with her head down, looked up then and gave Luo Han a calm glance.
“Magic can achieve many things, but changing a person’s fundamental essence into that of a monster is a level of magic that exceeds conventional knowledge.”
She didn’t seem to doubt him; she merely offered a scholar’s detached analysis.
The contract magic ensured that Luo Han wasn’t lying, so all that remained was to understand the principles behind the phenomenon.
“However,” Frieren closed her book, “the fact that you are currently a monster will not change.
All we can do is observe the choices you make from here on.”
She spoke softly, but Luo Han heard the weight in her words.
Frieren had lived for over a thousand years and had seen countless demons.
She wouldn’t let her guard down just because of a sad story, but she was willing to give a soul struggling against instinct a chance to prove itself.
That was enough.
“Thank you,” Luo Han said earnestly.
Frieren didn’t respond, simply reopening her grimoire, though a faint curve seemed to flicker across the corner of her mouth for a split second.
Fern looked from her master to Luo Han and finally relaxed.
She took her notebook out of her luggage and began recording the day’s observations.
The journey continued.
***
Sometime later, in the Central Kingdoms, on the eastern coast of the Grantz Strait.
The salty sea breeze carried a characteristic briny scent as the waves washed over the grey-white beach repeatedly.
This was a famous trade route node on the continent, but it was also a dangerous stretch of water prone to accidents.
Over the past few decades, countless merchant ships had encountered storms or struck reefs here.
Their wreckage washed up on the beach, gradually accumulating into a massive, headache-inducing junkyard.
“The whole village used to come out to clean it, but now there aren’t enough people, so we just have to leave it be,” an old man said as he handed a request to Frieren, sighing about how beautiful the coast used to be.
“I know,” Frieren said, standing on the sand, her white hair fluttering in the sea breeze.
She squinted at the mess before her: shattered keels, rusted anchors, cargo crates half-buried in the sand, and various unidentifiable debris stretching for nearly a kilometer along the coastline.
This was completely different from the coast in her memories.
Frieren accepted the quest.
The reward was a grimoire supposedly written by Flamme.
Of course, everyone knew the book was a fake, but Luo Han naturally had no objection to Frieren’s decision.
Luo Han had already rolled up his sleeves; it seemed he could use this opportunity to get some exercise.
After all, much like the Hero of the South, even though he could use precognition magic, he also used dual swords and was a high-level combatant.
After traveling for a while, he had adapted well to his role as a “temporary teammate.”
Frieren didn’t go out of her way to look after him, but she didn’t exclude him from daily affairs either.
This casual way of interacting actually made Luo Han feel more at ease.
A few days later, Luo Han walked up to a pile of shattered ship planks and tried to use the magic Frieren had taught him a few days ago.
“Levitation Magic.”
Mana flowed from his body, and a specific magic circle manifested.
His consciousness enveloped three planks, which wobbled as they rose about half a meter off the ground.
Luo Han focused, trying to guide them northward.
The result was one plank drifting left, one drifting right, and the third simply spinning in circles in the air.
“Your control is too poor,” Frieren’s voice drifted over from the side.
She didn’t even chant.
With a gentle tap of her staff, over a dozen pieces of wreckage of various sizes rose in neat formation, following behind her like a troop of obedient soldiers.
“If you master this magic, you can make yourself fly.
Do you plan on flying your own body in different directions like those planks?”
She drifted into the air.
“You need to understand the forces acting on an object in the air, the influence of the wind, and the stability of your own mana output.
These all require practice.”
Luo Han nodded.
Flight magic was definitely worth practicing; its strategic value was immeasurable.
He refocused his attention, adjusting his mana output frequency bit by bit, feeling the feedback of the magic based on the different weights and shapes of each plank.
By the second week, the wobbling of the three planks had diminished, and they began to move slowly in the same direction.
*It seems I’m no magic genius,* he thought.
*The breakthrough in my defense magic before was probably just due to the threat of death…*
The realization was a bit of a blow to Luo Han.
The cleanup work lasted for a full three months.
Every day, Frieren—who had only just woken up long after the sun was high—would be dragged to the beach by Fern.
Luo Han used every spare moment to train himself, even using offensive magic to clear debris directly to practice his spells.
Sometimes he would find rusted coins in the shipwrecks, which was a pleasant surprise.
Life in this medieval-like era was quite harsh.
The technological conveniences he had enjoyed in the modern world were far superior to anything here, so being here naturally made him want to work harder on his training.
In his spare time, after learning about the various spices and food characteristics of this world, Luo Han would occasionally try his hand at cooking.
This turned out to be a feast for Frieren and Fern, who had never tasted modern cuisine.
One morning, Luo Han headed out to the beach early again.
Watching the breath mist from people’s mouths on the street, he realized the weather was getting colder.
Perhaps because a monster’s constitution was better suited for living in the north, he didn’t feel the cold here much at all, which was quite nice.
…
Having practiced alone all morning, Luo Han raised his hand, recalling the structure of the offensive magic.
During these months of training, he could feel the mana within his body growing.
Every time he cast a spell now, the flow of mana was much smoother than before.
Repeatedly practicing offensive magic had also made the skill much more intuitive.
“Ordinary Offensive Magic.”
A blue-white beam of light shot from his palm, accurately striking a shipwreck in the distant ocean.
Wood splinters flew, but the debris only split in half and remained quite large.
“The power isn’t concentrated enough,” Frieren’s voice suddenly drifted from behind him.
“I’ve told you about this problem many times.”
Luo Han fell into thought.
He recalled the strike he had used against Qual, the Elder Sage of Corruption, two months ago.
At that time, his entire focus had been on the goal of “piercing.”
A moment of inspiration struck.
He raised his hand again.
The beam became thin and brilliant, leaving a charred hole in the wreckage while leaving the surrounding structure almost undamaged.
“That’s the right direction,” Frieren said, appearing beside him at some point.
“Now just adjust it slowly.”
In the evening, after Frieren and Fern had headed back early because it was too cold, Luo Han was practicing alone on the beach when the data on the panel in his mind updated:
[Ordinary Offensive Magic Lv.
2]
During this period, his basic attributes had also changed.
Consistent physical training had increased his Strength from 2 to 4.
His Agility hadn’t changed much, and despite the constant use and cultivation of mana, his Intelligence hadn’t increased either.
This showed just how much weight the thirty years of mana from Qual, the Elder Sage of Corruption, actually held.
*It’s still slow.
As expected, I need to kill monsters.
Too bad I haven’t encountered any dungeons; otherwise, I could do some scavenging.*
There was nothing he could do.
Since he had run into Frieren right at the start and was now constrained by her, his “scavenge, fight, and extract” journey through the Collision World had turned into a “cultivation and retirement” trip.
According to the guides he had read online, the only known extraction points for explorers in this Collision World were the Royal Capital and the Magic City.
He happened to know that as the plot progressed, Frieren would eventually reach the Magic City.
Since that was the case, he would follow along and improve himself first.
After all, he didn’t need to worry about his experiences in the Collision World drastically affecting his real-world personality.
According to the online guides, memories from the Collision World were stored in a special way; one could recall them at any time without them diluting one’s original personality and memories.
One afternoon half a month later, the cleanup was finally complete.
The beach, once piled high with wreckage, was now empty, save for the last of the gathered debris.
Frieren used a fire spell to ignite the pile and put away her staff, warming her hands by the fire with a look of great satisfaction.
The three of them sat on a high reef facing east, waiting for the sun to dip below the horizon.
The sky shifted from pinkish-purple to a dusty yellow, the edges of the clouds tinged with faint gold.
“The New Year festival is the day after tomorrow,” Fern said, hugging her legs with a tone of contentment.
“We can set off after watching the sunrise.”
It seemed the past few months had been a bit dull for Fern.
“Mm,” Frieren said, looking toward the dying fire.
“Luo Han, you cook tonight.
To celebrate finishing the cleanup.”
“Even at your age, you’re still such a glutton.”
“You’re so annoying.”
…
Inside the cabin, Luo Han heated some oil and mentally checked his attribute information to review his growth during this period:
[Luo Han (Monster – Mimic)] [Strength: 4] [Agility: 1] [Intelligence: 10] [Contract Magic Lv.
1] [Defense Magic Lv.
2] [Ordinary Offensive Magic Lv.
2] [Levitation Magic Lv.
1]
*At least there’s some progress.* He closed the panel, poured hot oil and sauce over the steamed fish, and brought it to the table.
The meal was a happy affair.
The cheerful atmosphere almost made Luo Han forget he was in a Collision World.
“Luo Han,” Frieren said suddenly.
“Yeah?”
“Your offensive magic has improved quickly, but you’ve barely practiced defense magic at all.”
Luo Han blinked.
It was true; over the last three months, he had focused most of his energy on offensive magic and levitation.
He hadn’t specifically practiced defense magic, likely because he felt Lv.
2 was sufficient.
“Offense is indeed more rewarding than defense,” Frieren continued, her gaze fixed on the fish bones on her plate.
“But you must remember: the mages who survive are usually the ones who are better at protecting themselves.”
She stood up.
“I’m going back to my room.”
“Lady Frieren, you clearly just don’t want to clear the table,” Fern said, immediately standing up crossly, having seen through Frieren’s trick.
“Alright, alright, Fern, I know.”
Watching the two of them, Luo Han smiled slightly.
After spending so much time together, he really did enjoy being with them.
Unfortunately, having been deeply moved by the original story, he currently had no intention of pursuing a relationship beyond friendship with either of them.
The current way they interacted made him very happy.
Frieren made a good point, though.
He should put defense magic on his training schedule.
After watching the New Year festival sunrise, the three of them set off on their journey once again.
***
In the year 28 of the Era after the Hero’s Death, after leaving the Grantz Strait, the group traveled toward the Bregret region.
On the seventh day of the journey, the surrounding scenery began to change.
The open sky and salty sea breeze of the coast were replaced by towering cedar forests.
The air became crisp, smelling of pine resin and damp moss.
Luo Han walked behind Frieren and Fern.
Beneath his feet was a thick, soft layer of needles that made his footsteps nearly silent.
Frieren’s pace unconsciously slowed in this familiar forest.
She looked up at the straight trunks that all looked nearly identical, her eyes becoming somewhat distant.
“This place hasn’t changed much since I was last here,” she said softly, her voice remarkably clear in the stillness of the forest.
*This part of the story is…*
Luo Han recalled the plot in his mind.
According to the original timeline, this should be the turning point where Frieren comes to find the dwarf warrior Eisen of the Hero’s Party after Himmel’s death, eventually deciding to head for the land where souls rest.
“Have you been here before, Lady Frieren?” Fern asked, clutching her staff and looking around curiously.
“Yes, with Himmel and the others.” Frieren reached out and brushed a hand against the rough bark of an ancient tree, her movements very light.
“Eisen’s home is just up ahead.”
After walking a bit further, the sound of gurgling water drifted from ahead.
Rounding a dense patch of cedars, the view suddenly opened up.
A clear stream meandered through the rocks, with a level clearing by the bank.
In the clearing stood several stones representing the void of the departed.
Fresh wildflowers and a bundle of herbs still wet with morning dew were placed in front of them.
And in front of the stones, a stout figure was crouching.
It was a dwarf.
Even crouching, one could see his shoulders were exceptionally broad, his back muscles as thick as a slab of rock.
He wore a silver horned helmet and a red armored cloak, and his brown beard was thick and neat, falling vertically like a waterfall.
He was focused on dividing the flowers in his hand into several bundles, placing them one by one before each headstone with slow, solemn movements.
Frieren stopped, not speaking immediately to avoid disturbing him.
Only after Eisen had placed the last bundle and slowly stood up did she speak.
“Eisen, I’ve come to hang out with you~”
The dwarf turned around.
Beneath his combat helmet, his eyes were the only visible part of his face not covered by the connected beard and hair.
The exposed skin was weathered like sun-beaten leather, with deep wrinkles radiating from the corners of his eyes and mouth.
But most striking were his eyes.
They were sharp and clear, like a blade that had never been dulled by the years.
“Your attitude doesn’t suggest it’s been thirty years since we last met,” Eisen’s voice was low and gravelly, yet exceptionally clear.
“It’s *only* been thirty years,” Frieren corrected, though there was no real edge to her tone.
“I suppose.
It’s all the same to you.” Eisen’s gaze swept over Fern, lingering on her for a moment.
“I didn’t expect you to take an apprentice.
Is this the child Heiter adopted?”
“How did you know?”
“Heiter and I exchanged letters.”
Fern bowed somewhat nervously.
“Mr.
Eisen, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
Eisen nodded in acknowledgment.
Then, his gaze fell upon Luo Han.
In that instant, Luo Han felt as if the surrounding air had frozen.
Eisen’s gaze wasn’t like Frieren’s magical scrutiny, nor was it like Fern’s curiosity.
It was a more primal, direct form of perception—a warrior’s intuition for danger, a hunter’s instinctive lock on a prey’s scent.