Chapter 37: Frieren's Hospice Care?
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After meeting again after a thousand years, Ash was actually quite touched at first.
At least when he first saw his long-lost friend, he genuinely wanted to hug her, but... the subsequent events were completely beyond his expectations.
Now, as Frieren patted his head—doing something that was clearly meant for an elder to a younger person—Ash instinctively complained. He then placed his hands on Frieren's shoulders, pushed her away gently, and said seriously:
"Wait a minute, Frieren, isn't there something wrong with this process now?"
"Process? What process?" Frieren looked confused.
"I'm the elder. Besides... a normal person would hesitate when faced with a phantom ghost illusion, right? Why did you seem to have no hesitation at all?"
"If you hesitate as a magician, you could die if you're not careful, right?"
Compared to his indignation, Frieren's response was matter-of-fact.
"But I'm a magician too! If I'd reacted just a bit slower, I could've died as well!"
"It's fine. You're not someone who'll die so easily."
"What kind of logic is that…"
The strange trust left him momentarily speechless, unsure of where to even begin complaining.
There were so many things he wanted to bring up, but then Ash suddenly thought of something and asked:
"Wait a second, your phantom ghost... it was me?"
"Sometimes it's the teacher, sometimes it's you... How do I put it? Even though I haven't known you for long, I still remember you quite clearly."
As she spoke, Frieren's expression was more one of awkward entanglement than the girlish sentiment Ash had imagined. Her expression was very subtle.
At the end, Frieren looked him over and added, "Also, I've gotten tired of hearing you and the Master beg for mercy. It's quite refreshing that you haven't begged properly this time."
"...What kind of image do you even have of me?" Ash, who had intended to tease her, now felt a bit hurt himself.
After holding his stomach to ease the blow, he sighed and decided to change the subject.
"We've known each other for over ten years now. If we include Flamme, it's been several decades. That's quite a long time no matter how you look at it, don't you think?"
"It's only been that long."
"...Okay, I give up on trying to argue about this."
"Really? But now that you've asked all your questions, is it my turn?"
"You? No, I haven't finished yet!"
"Just bear with it for now... and squat down."
Frieren rolled up her sleeves and motioned for Ash to squat in front of her, which instantly made him wary. "What? Are you... going to hit me?"
"That's right. You're too tall, so it's inconvenient to hit your face. Could you please squat down first?"
"—Of course not! What are you thinking? How could anyone agree to such a request?!"
These inexplicably polite yet impolite words made him instinctively retreat three meters.
But Frieren, expressionless, simply replied, "Think about it carefully. Isn't this perfectly reasonable?"
"Where is it reasonable? Because you asked?"
"You disappeared without a trace. Master and I both thought you were dead. Master even regretted not being able to find you. And I didn't get a decent night's sleep for the first half-century after you vanished… A few punches are hardly too much to ask for all that, right? That's what Serie said."
As she said this, Frieren, who had been walking closer, stopped in front of him and looked up. "But before I actually do anything, I'd like to hear your explanation."
"...It was just force majeure," he muttered, looking away in embarrassment, unable to fully explain the truth.
"What exactly happened?"
"I was near the imperial capital, probably caught in a magic trap, and got frozen… By the way, I only woke up about a month ago."
"...A month ago?"
Frieren narrowed her eyes, observing the subtle fluctuations of magic around his body.
Ash's technique for concealing his presence was highly refined, but she could still easily see through the layers of his disguise.
Most people wouldn't recall events from a thousand years ago, but for someone like her, with a long lifespan, those memories remained vivid.
In the past, Ash had been at the peak of mortal strength, but now he had surpassed the limits of a normal human lifespan. In fact, even demons would need centuries of rigorous training to amass the kind of power he now possessed.
Judging by his previous rate of growth, it should have taken him about 40 to 50 years to reach this level.
Although his appearance hadn't changed, it was clear he had aged. He was likely in his seventies by now.
Having made a rough estimate, and considering her own knowledge of human lifespans, Frieren realized that the old friend before her was nearing the end of his life.
Why would you lie like this? Why hide your age? So I wouldn't worry? Do you think I can't see through your disguise? These thoughts brought a wave of sadness to Frieren's heart. Her fists, which she had unconsciously clenched, loosened as her desire to strike him—for both her master and herself—faded.
...
Meanwhile, Ash, who had deliberately given a ridiculous number, was fully prepared to be hit. He squatted on the ground, bracing himself.
But as soon as he did, he noticed the lonely smile on Frieren's face.
This unexpected expression made him uneasy. "...What's wrong?"
"On second thought… it wasn't really your fault. And, honestly, I'm just happy to see you again," Frieren said softly, with a tenderness she had never shown him before. She smiled gently and stroked his head once more.
But her sudden change in demeanor was so abnormal that it made Ash, who had been bracing for a punch, feel entirely uncomfortable. Instead of goosebumps, suspicion crept in, and he couldn't shake the feeling that she was up to something.