Frieren immediately began preparations, donning her armor and checking her potions, looking ready for action once again. If Murkwater Cave was related to the Bloody Finger, there might be another tough fight ahead.
Her aggressive demeanor made the surrounding soldiers exchange glances. Didn't Her Majesty just finish a battle? Wasn't that enough excitement? Did she need to find another opponent immediately? Okay, very much the battle maniac.
"Don't look at me like that," Frieren said. "I'm just going to scout for danger. We can't allow places like caves, where wild beasts gather, to continue running rampant in Limgrave. You guys maintain the lockdown."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Withdraw the assembly signal," Frieren added. "In the future, if you encounter battles you can't intervene in, you should prioritize your own safety first. I can handle it."
This instruction deeply moved everyone. Usually, a commander was considered decent if they didn't just treat their subordinates as cannon fodder. Who, like Frieren, would warn them beforehand and tell them to leave? No wonder she possessed magic that heals souls; because she herself held salvation in her heart, she wielded great power.
They quickly cleaned up the battlefield, collecting the animals killed by the aftershocks, lest they be targeted by cursed blood and turn into something bizarre. The Lands Between held countless special powers, and cleaning the battlefield was also a way to prevent their spread.
The troop movements on Stormhill finally slowed down a bit, easing the tension. After all, the battle near Lake Agheel had been truly astonishing; it looked like the heavens and earth changed color, magic power surging like tidal waves crashing relentlessly. But once they knew Frieren was the combatant, they were relieved. She would surely be fine. As expected, she emerged victorious.
Who was the opponent? Curiosity aside, it was best not to pry into certain secret matters. Curiosity killed the cat. So, before she mentioned anything, they dutifully carried on with their work.
Meanwhile.
Patches, leading a group of subordinates hiding in Murkwater Cave, scratched his completely bald head. Dust constantly fell from the cave ceiling, accompanied by increasingly intense tremors, which only gradually subsided after a while. Some of the bandits were nearly scared out of their wits.
He looked down on these cowards. A randomly gathered bunch of bandits was hardly useful for anything significant; they were only good for running errands and gathering intel for him, and even then, they couldn't necessarily compare to the Volcano Manor's intelligence network.
Moreover, conditions in Limgrave were steadily improving. Some who had turned to banditry had reformed because the benevolent Queen decided to let bygones be bygones. However, wanted criminals with concrete evidence of evil deeds had to be purged. Of course, some thugs who had grown fond of robbery were still active. One could imagine what kind of scum those who didn't reform were; they just stuck together, extorting whatever they could.
Just then, a trembling bandit ran into the cave.
"Hey, I sent you to gather information. Any news? Who the hell is causing all this commotion?" Patches demanded.
"Boss, it-it's her. That terrifying Funeral Mage... y-you know who..." the bandit stammered.
"Spit it out clearly," Patches snapped.
"I overheard soldiers chatting. They said the Shardbearer Queen Frieren was attacked while patrolling Lake Agheel. The opponent used some kind of power suspected to be a blessing from an Outer God, which is why it caused such a ruckus. But she's already defeated them. However, it seems she plans to continue operating in this area."
"Wait a minute. After a conflict of that magnitude, she still has magic power left? Shouldn't a normal person rest for a bit?" Hearing this, Patches found the exaggerated rumor hard to believe. The bandits didn't know how to respond either.
"The boss is experienced and always has sharp judgment," one bandit ventured. "Even a demigod powerhouse would need to catch their breath after such a huge exertion. Besides, a queen who just survived an assassination attempt should be worried, not continuing to be active. She'll return to Stormveil Castle."
"Not necessarily," another countered. "Don't forget, the Queen of Soul Cinder has a record of consecutively defeating the Night's Cavalry, Margit the Fell Omen, and Godrick the Grafted."
"In my opinion," a third added, "Frieren just fundamentally enjoys tempering herself through battle."
The discussion boiled down to one essential question: Should they flee or not? If Frieren and her soldiers patrolled frequently, their exposure was only a matter of time. The worst outcome would be getting hanged.
Should they make a run for it now? Forget it. Leaving the cave would make them easily exposed; it wasn't worth the risk. If anyone tried to escape, they'd likely be attacked by their own comrades first – because how would they know if that person wasn't going to snitch to get a lighter punishment?
They glared deadly daggers at each other, issuing silent threats. The campfire reflected their grim faces. Faced with a powerful enemy, the bandits' first thought was to prevent others from escaping. Whether they would unite to fight the army was another matter entirely. Dead silence fell.
In the end, wishful thinking overcame reason. Patches was heard consoling them: "Don't worry, they won't find this hidden cave. How can you be bandits if you're always looking over your shoulders? Since you've chosen this path of arson, murder, and plunder, be prepared for the consequences. Don't be so jittery."
"You say that like you're some respectable person," a bandit muttered.
"That's right," Patches retorted. "I have my own boss. Coming to Limgrave is just part of the job, and taking you guys on is part of it too. Got a problem?"
As he spoke, Patches shot a harsh glare at the riffraff around him. They quickly averted their eyes. Just a bunch of worthless scum. He had never thought highly of these dregs of the Lands Between. But appropriate motivation was necessary; a mix of kindness and coercion was needed.
"Stop overthinking. Let's divide the loot," Patches announced. As the boss, he gestured with open hands, indicating they should share it amongst themselves, showing his own disinterest. Of course, this also conveniently distanced him from it. But the bandits didn't think that far. They immediately swarmed the wooden chest, rummaging through it, letting nothing potentially valuable slip by.
This gang hadn't actually committed any major crimes. As law and order improved in Limgrave, there was less room for lawlessness. At most, they robbed supplies from carriages along the road. The only time they were harmonious was when dividing money, but dividing money was also when fights were most likely to break out. That's why Patches had to act as the arbitrator and manager; otherwise, pointless bloodshed and death might occur. He still needed these guys to work for him, to make his own life a bit easier.
"A painting?" Suddenly, a bandit found a long scroll. Just from the edges, it was clear it was quite valuable and expensive.
"This format suggests it was presented by some noble. Open it up, let's see."
Unrolling the scroll revealed a vertical half-body portrait. It depicted a woman with long, white hair tied in twin tails. The characteristic long, pointed ears were downplayed, emphasizing the large earring accessories, which complemented her well. Wearing a silver breastplate, with a sword at her waist, she gave off a sharp impression. Her most prominent feature was the staff, demonstrating dazzling brilliance...
Patches stroked his chin and commented with interest: "It conceals her demi-human heritage and the low-grade Queen's Staff. This artist has some decent skill."
"I haven't seen her in person, but the painting is beautiful," one bandit remarked.
"Idiot," Patches scoffed. "Her Majesty would call it ugly. The strong shouldn't be bothered by physical flaws—no, at that level, they're called characteristics. How can someone be perplexed by their own characteristics? Otherwise, they wouldn't possess that kind of presence, and they'd be considered inferior.
This treasure... presenting it would offend her. The noble who got robbed should thank us."
"You guessed right."
Unbeknownst to them, a person identical to the one in the painting stood at the cave entrance.
"It's her! It's really her!"
Although none of them had seen the renowned new Shardbearer Queen in person, these features were unmistakable. Twin-tailed silver hair, long pointed ears, mage robes over armor, and that undeniably powerful magical presence—everything about the atmosphere screamed that the visitor meant trouble. The bandits faced her as if confronting a major enemy, immediately taking defensive stances. What happened to the lookouts guarding the entrance? There was no need to ask.
Frieren calmly swept her gaze around. Her eyes landed on Patches. She felt a strange sense of familiarity. Truly an ever-present old acquaintance, almost inheriting the role.
"Are you the leader?" she asked.
"Not me, no! It's all their fault, they pushed me into this robbery stuff. I personally haven't done anything heinous," Patches said, waving his hands dismissively while wearing a cunning smile.
"Do you think I'm so easily fooled? Bandits deserve punishment."
"Why waste breath talking to her? Run! If you can't run, fight!" one bandit yelled.
At this point, the bandits abandoned all wishful thinking. With a demigod blocking the entrance, what chance did they have? The worst that could happen was death, their souls returning to the Erdtree. But it was well known that this system wasn't reliable anymore. On the other hand, their opponent was a master of manipulating souls; there were even rumors she could capture souls and torture them repeatedly. Since escape was impossible, their only option was to fight back and buy time.
Swish! A crossbow bolt shot towards her face. Frieren easily dodged it with a slight tilt of her head. The force was decent, and the arrowhead was likely coated in poison.
"It might work! A real demigod wouldn't even dodge!" someone shouted hopefully.
"Idiot! That's just her style!" Patches barked, before immediately turning tail and bolting towards the depths of the cave. Even if he had to dig a tunnel to the surface, he would absolutely not face a renowned Great Rune bearer.
His escape instantly shattered their morale. The hot-headed bandits calmed down. Thinking clearly, they realized they had no idea how to fight a demigod. So, they also greased their soles and dashed towards the deepest part of the cave. Frieren found herself unexpectedly ignored. She had planned to use ordinary weapons to knock them out one by one, but the opponents had no fighting spirit.
She actually valued this group somewhat. After all, most of them were intact and hadn't turned into mindless husks. With this thought, the silver-haired girl unleashed her magic power explosively – a simple intimidation spell, enhanced with soul effects. Its terrifying power instantly froze the dozens of bandits in place, too scared to move. Sweat poured down like rain, and their hearts felt as if they were being squeezed. They had initially thought they could put up some resistance, but after truly witnessing her aura, they understood just how vast the gap was between them and a world-class powerhouse. Some even fainted from fear.
Immediately after, Frieren raised her hand and shot a beam of light towards the ceiling. The thick rock layer was instantly pierced through. Light flooded the enclosed cave, and wind howled through the opening.
"If anyone else tries to escape, this will be their fate," she declared.
Upon hearing this, the bandits immediately stopped causing trouble. They all turned to face her. After all, no one wanted to be hit by such a magic attack. It wouldn't just send them flying; they'd likely be obliterated, soul included.
"Wait, I surrender!" Patches quickly prostrated himself on the ground, kneeling and chuckling nervously. "I knew Your Majesty was reasonable!"
"Introduce yourself," Frieren commanded.
"People call me Patches the Untethered," he began. "Like you, I'm a Tarnished, wandering around. I happened to fall in with this group of bandits, but I haven't done anything truly wicked."
"Sounds plausible enough. What are your plans for the future?" Frieren asked with keen interest. Every Patches-related side quest usually involved key locations; in short, she needed to pay close attention. If he turned out to be irredeemable, she wouldn't mind getting rid of him.
"Thanks to Your Majesty's rule, everyone's living peacefully and working happily," Patches said smoothly. "There's less and less new blood in this line of work. Besides, robbery is inherently high-risk. Why risk your life when you can just make a living? I'm washing my hands of it. From now on, I'll open a shop and settle down."
"Really?"
"Absolutely true, Your Majesty. Although I, Patches, might seem untrustworthy, people around me say I'm reliable when I do things." He glanced around at his underlings and asked, "So, am I right or am I right?"
His underlings quickly nodded like chickens pecking grain. They were all grasshoppers on the same rope now; no undermining each other; surviving this ordeal came first.
Frieren snapped her fingers. The simple action made everyone flinch instinctively. When a large detachment of soldiers entered, they actually breathed a sigh of relief. They feared that another snap of her fingers would end their lives; even facing torture felt more comfortable than facing the pressure of a demigod.
She instructed the soldiers: "Carefully verify these individuals' crimes. Treat them leniently, primarily using hard labor as punishment."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Meanwhile, the soldiers sorted and carried away the valuables found on site. As befitting a proper bandit hideout, there were indeed some jewels; the trip wasn't wasted. But watching all this, Patches grew increasingly anxious: Why was there no reaction towards him? His accomplices were all shackled, so why were the soldiers ignoring him, the supposed leader? If he were captured, he could still sneak away; he was confident that mere grunts couldn't hold him. However, the attention from a Shardbearer Queen was terrifying. Although Frieren was currently selecting choice loot from a chest, her attention never left him. Could she have sensed his connection to Volcano Manor? Was the intelligence network in Limgrave that effective?
Click! The last chest being searched was closed. The sound made Patches' heart tighten. Unnoticed, the soldiers withdrew. Everything fell silent. The firelight reflected Frieren's stern expression, her gaze seeming to pierce right through his soul.
"How about I become your first customer?" she asked.
"Of course! My goods are guaranteed to be high quality and low price! Oh, right, and I'll give Your Majesty a discount, hehe," Patches chuckled dryly and took out a small, hidden box. Why did this atmosphere feel like he was the one being robbed? But the ruler of Stormveil Castle was indeed generous; she immediately bought up his entire stock.
Frieren wouldn't miss any items that might refresh or disappear, especially since goods sold by an old acquaintance might hide clues. At the same time, she didn't forget to check the messages left behind:
["I don't understand why Margit's Shackle exists. If Tarnished could just ask—ask, they'd probably know about the Omen Twins directly."]
["The old acquaintance indeed brought a key clue. Remember to play through the related side quest too."]
["Forget it, I don't really like the Volcano Manor quests anyway. They make you kill those good Tarnished, especially Great Horned Tragoth... But for the Bull-Goat Set, innocence is no protection when you possess a treasure."]
["You, Patches, you truly delight me."]
["For some reason, seeing you reminds me of many things."]
["'Things' refers to the past life memories of the Souls, right? Enough, you guys! I still want to see the side quest info."]
["Can't dodge my fully upgraded Godslaying weapon. Might as well start over in the next playthrough."]
...Although filled with bizarre comments, Frieren caught some key information within them. Therefore, she looked directly at Patches and asked coldly: "Someone from Volcano Manor?"
Hearing the words "Volcano Manor," Patches' hair stood on end, and his scalp tingled. After all, he had just identified himself as a Tarnished. Being associated with Volcano Manor, wouldn't that make him a Recusant? To the Roundtable Hold faction, Recusants were heretics who needed to be hunted down. Damn it, how did Frieren know?
"What are you talking about..." he stammered, denying it outwardly but already planning his escape route. Even if he couldn't escape, he had to try. Otherwise, falling into the hands of a standard, orthodox Tarnished like the Queen of Soul Cinder would be real trouble. He wondered if mentioning the demigod backing the Manor would be enough to intimidate her.
"Relax," Frieren said. "I don't intend to pursue the matter, provided you tell me everything you know about Volcano Manor."
"There's not much to say. It was just a rebel stronghold counter-attacked during the Shattering," Patches deflected.
"Don't try to fool me. I want to know the current situation." As she spoke, Frieren laced her words with a trace of soul pressure. This made Patches immediately bow his head in submission, daring not to try any tricks. He quickly spilled everything he knew about Volcano Manor, like beans pouring from a bamboo tube:
Apparently, Praetor Rykard had merged with the Great Serpent, becoming inseparable. Moreover, he was killing and consuming the people within Volcano Manor – it was even more horrific than when the Manor was under attack.
She immediately recalled the opening cinematic where a serpent devoured a bearded man; it seemed to foreshadow the turmoil at Volcano Manor. What a pity. Speaking of which, Knight Bernahl, the war ash teacher, also had ties to Rykard. Could they have had some connection? A complex web of relationships slowly unfolded before Frieren, becoming clearer. Indeed, the starting area map contained many late-game clues.
Furthermore, Patches mentioned that even today, battles involving Leyndell soldiers still raged in the volcano region, having practically laid waste to the land. Already unsuitable for farming and production, and ravaged by war, it was practically apocalyptic.
He also revealed that Recusant-related missions did indeed involve hunting Tarnished. But he didn't forget to use Bernahl as an example, saying the Golden Order deceived people. "...Did you know? Bernahl's maiden died trying to burn the Erdtree's branches to block the way. She died, and the Tarnished she served failed to become Lord. It's all a sham!" This passionate performance wasn't out of kindness.
Patches took the opportunity to instill the idea that the Golden Order was flawed. Little did he know that Frieren never considered the Golden Order a good thing from the start. How could she follow the rules of an established system? As a player, one plays however they want, freely. Ascending the throne wasn't the main point of the journey; conquering the Lands Between was.
This is bad. Melina, who had been listening silently, felt like punching Patches. Anyone with common sense would connect the death of Bernahl's maiden as a cautionary tale and consequently think that her own maiden might also be sacrificed... Or was she just being presumptuous? Did Frieren actually not care about anyone dying on the path to becoming Lord? At that moment, the silver-haired girl listened with a cold expression, as usual. And Melina didn't know whether to feel relieved or regretful.
"Actually, Bernahl's method was wrong," Frieren stated calmly. "We have our own plan, don't worry."
"Mm," Melina replied softly. Frieren's flat response made her thoughts even harder to grasp. As for Patches, he thought she agreed with him. Didn't this mean another potential Lord Tarnished doubted the Erdtree? That would be a huge gain, a good thing.
He didn't know that Frieren was actually more concerned about how to obtain Rykard's Great Rune; besides, the immortal Great Serpent sounded like it held great research value.
"There's one more thing," Frieren continued, taking out the black shackle. "Why do you have this?"
"It just happened to fall into my hands. It's hard to trace back," Patches replied evasively. "But I can tell you, during the defense of Leyndell, the Grace-Given Lord released the Omen children. Margit was the most outstanding among them. He was once imprisoned in the sewers beneath the Royal Capital, wearing shackles... Most Omen children were treated that way. Even during its most prosperous and tolerant times, the Golden Dynasty would never share its glory with the Omens. However, this shackle has a suppressive effect. It'll be useful if you encounter Margit again."
Patches added with a grin: "I know you're already stronger than him. With the shackle in a rematch, you could kill him."
The people at Volcano Manor would love to see the Royal Capital's power weakened, especially Margit's. He was the one who led the troops to attack the volcano back then. The dignified Praetor was put in such a sorry state by an Omen child. One can imagine how furious the hot-headed Rykard must have been. So he went mad, perhaps.
"I've learned pretty much everything I needed to know. Let's leave it at that." Frieren changed the subject. "Now, let's talk about your problem." Throughout the conversation, she hadn't expressed any particular viewpoint. Because while Patches was useful, he wasn't necessarily trustworthy; he even tricked you from time to time, so vigilance was necessary.
"What are you planning to do to me? Are you going to silence me? Spare me!" Patches pleaded.
"I'm not that cruel," Frieren said. "I'm just reminding you to behave yourself and not do anything detrimental to Limgrave."
"Understood."
"It's fine for you to use the cave as your base for now. After all, didn't you say you wanted to do business? A shop needs a good location. Patches, I look forward to you bringing me more special goods."
After shaking the shackle in her hand, Frieren turned and left. Dealing with someone like him required maintaining a certain distance; don't assume you can trust him. He'll pop up on his own when needed. There was no need to worry about his resilience; he was notoriously hard to kill. Perhaps they would meet again someday in the volcano region.
Patches, left behind, wiped the cold sweat from his forehead. Only then did he realize his clothes were soaked with sweat. That was damn nerve-wracking. If she had harbored even the slightest killing intent, he would definitely be dead. Falling into the hands of a soul magic user would likely be even more terrifying. He gazed in the direction the silver-haired girl had left and muttered: "A queen who doesn't trust the Erdtree?"
Things were getting interesting. After millennia, a Tarnished capable of reclaiming the throne had finally arrived, yet she showed no respect for it whatsoever. In that case, where was the world headed?
Outside the cave.
Frieren walked on casually, as if nothing had happened. Ahead, she was about to rejoin her soldiers and return to Stormveil Castle. She felt a tug on her sleeve. It was a movement from a spirit; if not for the perception granted by relevant magic, she wouldn't have even noticed.
Melina, holding her hand, asked, "Aren't you curious about the matter of the maiden?"
"I believe there are many secrets behind it," Frieren replied. "The most crucial clue is your memory, but it's sealed. So, any discussion now is just speculation. Only one thing is certain: my path to becoming Elden Lord requires your support. I will not allow sacrifices."
"Are you serious?" Melina asked, her voice tinged with surprise.
"Of course. I know achieving this goal is harder than it seems, but it's alright. We can always find a way. And you must promise me not to sacrifice yourself on your own accord."
"Then you must also promise me," Melina insisted, "not to seek the power of wicked Outer Gods to solve things." Perhaps there really were other ways to burn the Erdtree if they looked further. But the Frenzied Flame, alone, must not be touched. Melina, having keenly felt Frieren's immense power, couldn't dare to imagine how powerful she would become if she embraced the Frenzied Flame. It was uncertain who would devour whom; at that time, a Mad King would be born.
_____
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