Chapter 35 (Patreon)

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"People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint - it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly... time-y wimey... stuff."

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Chapter 35

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The air at Kino Pass had teeth.

A dry, sharp cold bit into their cheeks, even though the sun was a lazy, hazy disk in the sky. High, thin clouds painted streaks of white above the craggy slopes.

Ahead of them, nestled into a bend in the mountain's side, was a buzzing station of activity—rows of tents, campfires smoking, people shouting, crates being hauled, and stoic soldiers standing firm along the great sealed wall. It was a bustling hub of life in an otherwise desolate, frigid landscape.

"That's Kino Pass," Frieren said, her voice quiet but clear over the wind's low howl. "To go further north, we have to get through."

But the gate was closed—a massive, unmoving wall of stone and metal, guarded by soldiers in heavy winter gear. A large, iron-plated seal was visible from their vantage point, humming faintly with a dormant magical energy.

Stark blinked at the wall and scratched the back of his head, the metal of his gauntlets making a soft scraping sound. "Wait, wait... you're telling me we walked all this way and can't even get through?"

"We can get through. Just not right now," Fern replied calmly, brushing her cloak straight as they approached the base of the checkpoint. Her expression was composed, but her eyes scanned the soldiers quickly, as if she were already calculating if she could bribe one with leftover stew or perhaps a magically-preserved apple.

Naruto tilted his head as he surveyed the wall, his jade-green eyes narrowing. A low, rhythmic hum emanated from the sealed gate, a sound he recognized as a powerful, but currently inactive, magic barrier. "So… why's it shut?"

A passing worker carrying a heavy stack of wood planks paused just long enough to overhear their conversation. He leaned against a crate, breathing heavily, a plume of white air puffing from his mouth. "You didn't hear? Ever since that demon Macht fell, the Fortified City of Weise's been reactivating some of the old barriers. They're running tests, shoring up defenses. Trade's shut down. Could take days. Maybe a month. Depends on how fast the repairs go."

Naruto's face dropped, the frustration evident in his posture. "A month?! No shot. The hag's going to find a new shiny object to waste our money on if we have to wait a month."

"Normally folks head to the northern coasts and take a boat," the worker continued, barely hiding a chuckle as he gestured vaguely to the west. "But sea passage ain't cheap, y'know. Not with the high demand."

"…Which we can't afford because someone thought spending twelve gold coins on a levitating paperweight was a good idea," Fern said, a sharp, pointed side-eye directed at Frieren.

"It was not a paperweight," Frieren muttered, her arms folded tightly. She looked utterly unbothered by the accusation, as if it were a matter of fact, not an opinion.

"It's literally just a rock that hovers and glows blue," Fern insisted, gesturing with her hands. "It doesn't even have a practical purpose."

"A very magical rock," Frieren countered. "The mana density within it is a marvel of ancient magic. A true collector's item."

Stark flopped down onto a nearby log with a heavy sigh, his armor clinking with the motion. "So what now? We just sit here and... rot? I'm getting frostbite just thinking about it."

Naruto folded his arms, his staff resting on his shoulder like a simple traveling stick. The cold wind ruffled his short red hair. "We could always practice magic." He threw Fern a grin and gave her a dramatic thumbs-up. "Better than twiddling our thumbs."

His white robes shimmered faintly under the sunlight, the intricate golden embroidery along the hems catching glints of light. He looked, in that moment, like a wandering myth—a mage from a storybook, written in red and gold.

Fern's cheeks colored slightly, though she played it cool, her posture stiffening slightly. "Well, we are mages. This is the best use of time."

"Besides," Frieren interrupted, already walking past them with her arms tucked inside her sleeves, "there's a place nearby I want to visit."

Naruto's eye twitched, a sudden sense of dread washing over him. "Is it another trinket shop? Hag, I swear, if you drag me to another store selling musical stones and scented socks—"

"You'll live," Frieren said flatly, not even turning around. Her voice was dismissive, as if the destination was a foregone conclusion.

With a groan, Naruto followed, his staff clinking against the stones as he walked. "Why do I always get dragged into your weird whims..."

"Because you never say no," Fern said simply, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"...Ugh. True."

Stark, finally getting to his feet again, muttered something about frostbite and pointless detours but followed anyway. They were a peculiar group, a mix of a stoic warrior, a perpetually grumpy mage, a pragmatic apprentice, and an idealistic hero, bound by their shared journey.

Together, they left the hustle of the checkpoint behind and stepped into the solemn quiet of the woods. The trees stood tall and ancient here—gnarled pines with roots like veins over the stones and a thick blanket of moss. Snow hadn't fallen, but the air felt like it remembered it. The ground crunched beneath their boots, dry twigs snapping, the earth cold and brittle.

No one spoke for a while. The only sounds were the whisper of the wind through the trees and the steady rhythm of their boots on the frozen soil. It was a peaceful, if chilly, interlude before whatever new madness Frieren had planned.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Naruto finally asked, breaking the silence.

"You'll see."

"You always say that."

And yet, they followed.

As the woods began to thin, the air shifted—like it always did around places ancient and strange. The trees bent ever so slightly away from the clearing ahead, as if avoiding something they did not understand. A hush fell over the group, a natural reverence for the unexplained. Even Stark, ever ready with a complaint, slowed his steps, his usual bluster replaced with a quiet curiosity.

"There's a Megami's Monument here," Frieren said softly, almost reverently. Her gaze was steady, but her voice carried the faint weight of a distant memory, a thousand years old and yet somehow fresh.

Fern blinked, glancing toward her teacher. "There are ten of them in the world, right?" she asked, her voice hushed. "I remember reading about them in a book. They're all in remote locations."

"Correct," Frieren nodded, pushing a low-hanging branch aside as they stepped into the clearing. "Nobody has ever been able to decipher their purpose. Not mages, not historians. Not even the Elves." She gestured to the surrounding woods with a sweeping hand. "They are a complete enigma. A message with no recipient."

Naruto slowed his steps, taking in the scene. The clearing was quiet, almost unnaturally so. Grass grew wild in patches, the cold wind brushing over it in soft, rhythmic waves. At the far end stood a tall slab of pale stone—once tall, rather. Now it leaned slightly, broken at the top, deep cracks spiderwebbing down its body like a collection of ancient scars. Moss and lichen clung to its face, especially along the fractures, a testament to the passage of time. And yet, faintly, the old language was still carved into the surface—flowing, curved script that hummed with a low aura of something... lost.

Frieren walked toward it slowly, her boots making no sound on the soft earth. "When I traveled with Himmel, Heiter, and Eisen… we came here once. Stood right where we are now."

She placed a hand gently on the edge of the slab, her fingers tracing the faded lines of the ancient writing. A small, almost imperceptible tremor ran through the stone at her touch.

"Strangely," she continued, "my memory of that week is… hazy. One week, just gone. I asked Himmel about it—he didn't remember it either. Nor did Heiter. Not even Eisen." Her lips curved into a crooked, mischievous smile. "So naturally, I've returned. To exact revenge."

Naruto's eyes widened, a look of pure bewilderment on his face. "Revenge on… a rock? Hag, I swear, you're the weirdest person I've ever met."

Frieren smiled wider, her eyes twinkling with a dark humor. "Precisely. This stone stole my time. I will steal its secrets."

"That's incredibly on-brand for you," Fern muttered with a sigh, shaking her head. "A revenge quest against an inanimate object. What a legacy."

They all stepped forward to get a better look. The stone stood like a silent sentinel from another age, whispering things no one had ears to hear anymore. A thin breeze danced around it, carrying with it the faint scent of old moss and damp soil.

Frieren raised her staff, preparing to begin her analysis, her eyes glowing faintly with mana, when Naruto stepped forward with a smug little grin. He looked confident, his chest puffed out with an air of self-importance.

"Hang on, hang on, hang on," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Let me take this one."

Frieren blinked, a look of genuine surprise on her face. "You?"

"Yeah. I mean, remember the elven lock at the Bier Region? You said it'd take months to decode, and your 'great-mage brain' was all, 'it's sealed with at least five linguistic barriers and mana traps!'"

Frieren narrowed her eyes, a tiny flicker of annoyance in their depths.

Naruto puffed his chest out a bit further. "And I cracked it in one minute. Because I'm built different."

Fern looked mildly impressed, a rare sight. "You did?"

"It was mostly him guessing until something exploded," Stark added helpfully, his voice a low rumble. "And then he reassembled the pieces. And it still took a few tries. I'm pretty sure he almost blew our rations up."

"Still worked!" Naruto chirped, undeterred by the correction. "So come on, Hag—step aside and let the prodigy do his thing."

Frieren raised a single eyebrow, then—shockingly—stepped aside, a smirk playing on her lips. "Be my guest. I'll be watching."

Stark scratched his head, a worried look on his face. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Frieren said with a shrug. "But it'll be fun to watch him fail."

Fern, meanwhile, moved beside Naruto, her eyes sharp and attentive. She rarely passed up a chance to learn, especially from someone who—despite how idiotic he acted—was terrifyingly gifted. She might have to be his backup if he needed it.

Naruto crouched before the slab, the Flamme staff resting across his back. His fingers brushed across the surface gently, feeling the cool, rough texture of the stone. Moss clung stubbornly to the writing, damp and stringy, but he wiped it away with both hands until the old script was more clearly visible.

"Let's see…" he murmured, leaning in, his voice dropping low as if the stone might whisper back. His eyes scanned the intricate carvings, a look of intense concentration on his face.

The wind slowed to a stop.

Even the birds in the woods fell silent, their songs replaced by an expectant quiet.

And the stone seemed to wait.

Õ—T—Õ

The stone monument illuminated with a soft, ethereal green light, humming with a power that vibrated in Naruto's very bones. He blinked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. A second ago, he was staring at a moss-covered relic so ancient it might've predated language itself. Now… everything was different.

The clearing was no longer cracked and overgrown—it shimmered with a strange, golden warmth. Sunlight bathed everything in a soft, honeyed glow, filtering through leaves that hadn't been there a moment ago. The air was fresh, impossibly clean, and smelled of blossoms and damp earth. The monument stood tall again—towering and pristine, its carved symbols glowing faintly along its marble face like it had just been sculpted. It was a perfect, beautiful moment in time, frozen and preserved.

Naruto's brows furrowed in confusion, his gaze darting from the rejuvenated monument to the impossible, golden light. "What the—?"

And then—

"Frieren has turned into a boy!" a voice behind him boomed with the hearty rumble of a war horn.

Naruto almost face-planted from sheer whiplash, his head snapping around. "Huh?!"

He spun, raising his staff in a flash, the gem atop it pulsing with a warning light. Three figures stood not far from the monument, bathed in the same golden light that tingled unnaturally along Naruto's skin. They looked as bewildered as he felt.

"It's not Frieren," another voice said. It was calm, level, and controlled, a stark contrast to the booming exclamation just before.

Naruto took three long strides back, his heart pounding in his chest. His teammates—Fern, Stark, and Frieren—were nowhere in sight. The world he had known a moment ago was completely gone.

The strangers weren't exactly subtle.

One was a dwarf, burly and broad, with a long yellow beard braided into thick ropes. He wore a deep crimson cape over heavy armor, and in his hands was a war axe that looked like it could cleave a mountain in two. He gripped it tightly, his knuckles white.

Beside him stood a man with neatly combed green hair and small spectacles perched on his nose. He wore the unmistakable black-and-white robes of a priest, with a thick, leather-bound scripture already opened and glowing softly. He held it like a shield.

And at the center, standing just a step ahead of the other two, was a young man. He had soft blue hair, neatly swept to one side, piercing blue eyes, and a quiet intensity that radiated a subtle confidence. His clothes were stylish yet functional—a blue undersuit beneath a flowing white cloak trimmed with silver. A sword hung from his waist, and it was already unsheathed, its blade gleaming as he pointed it directly at Naruto. He looked at Naruto with a gaze that was both wary and fiercely protective.

"Who are you?" Naruto demanded, tightening his grip on his staff. His voice was laced with a palpable tension. "What have you done to my teammates?"

The blue-haired swordsman narrowed his eyes, not lowering his weapon an inch. "Where's my friend? The elf?"

Naruto's brows shot up in disbelief. "Huh? What? I don't know who you are—and who's your friend?! The only elf I know is a thousand-year-old walking rock with a magic addiction!"

"He seems dangerous," the dwarf muttered, shifting his considerable weight into a lower stance, his gaze never leaving Naruto's staff. "That glow... it's not normal mana." His knuckles whitened around the axe handle.

"This guy is extremely dangerous," the priest said, taking a cautious step back. He didn't raise his voice, but the way his eyes flicked toward the others, a silent command passed between them. "I can't feel any mana from him."

The priest's voice lowered to a whisper, filled with a professional unease. "That means either he's suppressing it perfectly... or he's so powerful, it's untraceable." He tightened his grip on his scripture, preparing for the worst.

Naruto's heart pounded. Not with fear—he'd been in way weirder situations than this—but with caution. None of this made sense. Were these illusions? Projections? Were they the memory anomaly that had wiped Frieren's recollection of this place and time? The golden light seemed to be a side-effect, a physical manifestation of a memory. A moment frozen in time.

"I'm warning you!" he called out, his voice sharp and clear. The Flamme staff's crystal surged with mana, a radiant, emerald light blooming around it like a small sun. "Back off, or I won't hold back!"

For a moment, everything held still. The golden light, the ancient monument, the three legendary heroes, and the confused hero from another world, all locked in a moment of tense silence.

And then—they lunged.

The dwarf's axe cleaved the air with a terrifying whoosh—a blow so heavy the air itself split, rustling the trees behind Naruto like a passing storm. Naruto, with the agility of a practiced acrobat, dodged with a nimble twist of his body, his white-gold robes flaring like a comet in motion. The force of the axe strike left a deep gouge in the earth where he had just been standing.

The blue-haired swordsman was already on him, his blade flashing with a skill honed through decades of training and a natural, intuitive grace. Naruto parried it with the side of his Flamme staff, the impact crackling like flint striking stone and sending a shower of sparks into the air. The two legendary heroes were a blur of motion, their movements fluid and precise.

Behind them, the priest's voice rang out—low and steady, like an incantation whispered to the bones of the earth itself. The air crackled with a palpable shift in energy.

"Sanctus Fortis… Caro Exalto…" he chanted, his scripture glowing brighter.

Naruto felt the pressure shift instantly. Mana surged, but it wasn't his—it was theirs, an ancient, powerful magic that amplified their strength and speed. His opponents had just powered up.

"Cheaters," Naruto muttered, a playful smirk on his face, though his eyes were sharp and focused.

The dwarf came barreling again, his axe now ignited with an unnatural red light from the priest's enchantment. He was faster, stronger, and more relentless than before. Naruto crouched, channeled mana into his palm, and thrust forward.

"Zoltarak!"

A crackling violet sphere of pure destruction exploded from his palm, arcing toward the dwarf with a violent hum. It wasn't a restrained blast—it was pure, raw mana shaped into annihilation, a testament to his own immense, chaotic power.

The dwarf swore loudly and brought up his axe to defend, the red light flaring in defiance. The blast hit with the force of a small meteorite, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him crashing into a tree trunk. The tree splintered, a thunderous crack echoing through the clearing.

"He's using Zoltarak like Qual," the dwarf bellowed as he pulled himself from the cracked bark, a thin stream of blood running down his forehead. "He's a demon!"

"Most probably," the swordsman said, dodging a follow-up strike from Naruto with a casual, almost bored, flick of his wrist. He spun and sliced toward Naruto's midsection with alarming grace, his movements a beautiful, deadly dance.

Naruto twisted, barely avoiding the blade, but not without noticing something strange. The sword seemed to absorb the light around it, a dark, hungry void at its center.

"…That sword," he muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Why does that look… familiar?"

No time to think.

The dwarf and the swordsman came at him together now—one from each side, their movements perfectly in sync, a lifetime of teamwork and trust on display. The priest's chanting grew louder and faster, fueling their assault. They were trying to overwhelm him, to find a crack in his defenses.

Naruto narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in their depths. "Fine."

With a breath, he planted his feet and reached into the Flamme staff. Mana spiraled out from it, pure and brilliant, coiling into his palm. He pulled it into a Schee Spear, a razor-sharp, translucent lance of dense, condensed mana.

The dwarf lunged—

Naruto pivoted and hurled the spear straight into his shoulder before twisting toward the swordsman and slamming a powerful punch into his midsection.

The blue-haired man grunted, absorbing the full brunt with his sword—again. Naruto was sure of it now. That weapon was not normal. It drank mana on contact, dulling his strikes and redirecting the force. His punch had landed, but most of the power had been absorbed by the mana-eating blade.

"Damn it," Naruto hissed, his frustration growing.

And then—

WHAM.

The dwarf—still standing, bleeding from his arm but moving with terrifying willpower—had closed the distance and punched Naruto square in the ribs. The force was immense, and the priest's blessing made it feel like being hit by a boulder.

Naruto flew back, skidding across the grass, his white robes dirtied and torn at the hem. He stopped just short of the monument, coughing slightly, a sharp pain radiating from his side.

"Tch… that hurt," he said, a grimace on his face.

His hand flickered through a series of quick signs, the movements so fast they were almost invisible.

Poof.

A clone appeared beside him, instantly darting toward the dwarf without hesitation. It drew mana into its palm for another spell, a brilliant flash of light signaling its intent.

Meanwhile, Naruto surged back into the fight, staff in hand, his eyes locked on the swordsman.

The priest paused his chant only long enough to mutter, "Two of him…?" The surprise was evident in his tone, a crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

"Yep," Naruto muttered as he sprinted forward, the Flamme staff glowing with a fierce, emerald light. "And we both hit like trucks."

The forest clearing lit up with a violent pulse of magic, a clash of two very different worlds.

"Zoltarak!"

From the gleaming gem atop Naruto's staff, a condensed beam of violet destruction surged forth like a lance of pure chaos, crackling with enough force to turn stone into smoke. The swordsman's eyes widened—just for a heartbeat—and he twisted his body with sharp precision, the blade of his sword flaring as it absorbed the shockwave.

The blast screamed past his shoulder, missing by mere inches.

It tore through a boulder behind him, disintegrating it into dust with a deafening boom. The shockwave snapped trees in half and sent a rush of air through the clearing.

But Naruto was already there.

He dropped low, sweeping his staff like a quarterstaff toward the blue-haired man's legs. The swordsman leapt to avoid it—just as Naruto pivoted mid-swing and spun upward with a reverse kick.

Crack!

The swordsman's eyes briefly crossed as Naruto's foot connected with his jaw. He staggered back, coughing, and brought up that familiar mana-draining sword. The blade shimmered with an eerie light, absorbing ambient energy around it like a hungry sponge.

"Too slow," Naruto said coolly, already surging forward again.

He jabbed the Flamme staff toward the man's chest, but the swordsman parried and countered with an elegant upward slash. Naruto ducked under, slid between his legs, and struck with an upward blast from behind—just enough mana to explode the earth beneath the swordsman's feet.

He stumbled—but not down. He turned with excellent form, and the two clashed again, staff against sword. Sparks flew. Their feet tore up the ground in fast, rhythmic collisions. Naruto moved like a dancer; the swordsman, like a machine. Yet Naruto had the edge—his strikes were faster, his mana more chaotic, less predictable.

Meanwhile, a few meters away, the clone was locked in a brutal melee with the dwarf.

"HYAAAAA!"

The clone roared, throwing a clean punch toward the dwarf's head. The old warrior blocked it with a thick forearm and grunted. The impact was like stone meeting stone, a raw clash of power.

"Not bad," the dwarf smirked, blood still trickling down his arm. "But you're still just a cheap copy!"

The clone growled and blurred behind him, a classic feint—then appeared from above, both fists raised, and slammed down with a double hammer blow.

The dwarf staggered, bent at the knees, the ground cracking under his boots—but he didn't fall.

"Stubborn little—"

Before the dwarf could finish, the clone exploded into smoke—revealing another clone in wait behind the first, already mid-swing with a spinning back kick.

WHAM!

It sent the dwarf crashing into a tree with a thunderous crack, bark splintering and flying into the air. But as the smoke cleared, the old warrior laughed, a booming, defiant sound.

Blood trickled down his forehead, but his eyes were bright with a warrior's joy. "That all you got, brat?!"

He barreled forward again, swinging his axe like a battering ram. The clone ducked, twisted, and countered with a flurry of taijutsu strikes to the gut and ribs—but it felt like punching a boulder. The dwarf grunted and retaliated with a monstrous headbutt that sent the clone flying backward.

Even mid-flight, the clone's fingers weaved signs—three more clones popped into existence, surrounding the dwarf in a perfect circle.

"Alright, old man," they said in unison, grinning. "Let's dance."

Back in the clearing, the real Naruto locked eyes with the swordsman again. They were breathing hard now, sweat glistening under the fading sun, and the monument loomed behind them—silent, ancient, and waiting.

Naruto spun the Flamme staff once and let it rest across his shoulders. "You're good," he admitted, a genuine respect in his voice.

"You're insane," the swordsman said, raising his sword again, a mixture of disbelief and admiration in his eyes.

"Thanks," Naruto grinned. "But I'm just getting started."

The dust from their clash hadn't even settled yet, and the air still hummed with the aftershock of magic.

Naruto had the blue-haired swordsman, Himmel, pinned—his staff braced across the man's chest, glowing with a hot, pulsing violet light. The gem at the tip of the staff shimmered as a Zoltarak blast gathered, humming with enough destructive power to obliterate a mountain ridge.

The clone, a little battered but grinning ear to ear, had just sent the dwarf Eisen sprawling onto the ground with a final spinning heel kick. The bearded warrior groaned, panting heavily as he stayed down, one hand pressed against a cracked rib, a look of utter disbelief on his face.

Naruto narrowed his eyes, breathing hard. "Who are you?" he demanded, his staff unwavering as he turned the beam's aim slightly—now toward the priest, Heiter, who instinctively took a half-step back, his scripture held like a shield.

Himmel, still catching his breath, looked up slowly, a strange calm in his blue eyes. "...I should be asking you that."

"I already told you," Naruto snapped, his voice sharp and tight. "What have you done with my teammates?"

Himmel exhaled, a plume of golden light escaping his lips. "Your team?" he asked, his expression now one of growing confusion.

"Yeah," Naruto said, lowering his stance but still keeping the energy charged. "My hag, uh—Frieren, Fern, and Stark."

The moment the name left his lips, everything stopped. The air went still, and the humming of the magic faded to a low thrum.

"...Did you just say... Frieren?" Himmel blinked, the name seeming to catch in his throat like a half-forgotten memory.

Naruto raised a brow, a flicker of hope in his eyes. "So you do know her. Good. Then you're gonna tell me where she is, or I'm gonna fry all three of you where you stand, dattebayo!" The endearingly childish verbal tic escaped his lips, a testament to his rising frustration.

There was a long, heavy pause.

"I think," Himmel said slowly, carefully choosing his words, "there's... some confusion."

"Confusion? The only thing I'm confused about is why you're all playing dumb." Naruto jabbed the staff forward, the magic flaring dangerously, turning the ground to dust at its tip. "What part of 'give me back my friends' is hard to understand?"

"No," Himmel said firmly, his hand not on his sword now, but open, a gesture of peace. "Tell me again. Which Frieren are you talking about?"

Naruto gave him the 'are you serious?' look, the most condescending expression he could muster. "The elf. Has a stone-like face, wears white, hates bugs, cries over stupid snacks. Great Mage. Really bad at money. Looks like a cute teenage girl but acts like a cryptid grandmother. That one."

The silence that followed was so thick it felt like the air held its breath. The words seemed to hang in the golden air, heavy with meaning and a thousand untold stories.

Heiter stepped forward carefully, shutting his glowing book with a soft thud. "That... does sound like her," he muttered, a look of profound recognition on his face.

"Frieren was with us," Himmel said after a long beat, his voice laced with a sudden, painful longing. "Just before you appeared. She was standing right there." He pointed to the base of the monument, now whole and unbroken in this strange reality.

Naruto blinked. The Zoltarak blast in his staff dissipated, leaving behind only the faintest shimmer of residual energy.

"What?" he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, the fight leaving his body entirely.

"Then you appeared in her place. Like you replaced her," Heiter added, his voice gentle, a kind old man trying to comfort a lost child.

Naruto's grip on the staff loosened ever so slightly, the weapon sagging in his hand.

His red bangs shifted in the wind as he stared hard at the three—warrior, priest, and dwarf. The three of them weren't hostile now. In fact, their expressions weren't even confused anymore. They were... concerned. Pity and a strange, quiet understanding filled their eyes.

"Who are you?" Naruto asked again, but this time quieter. Less of a threat. More of a desperate, pleading question.

Himmel took another step back and finally sheathed his sword, the metallic click echoing in the profound silence of the clearing.

"I'm Himmel," he said calmly, a sad smile on his face. "This is Eisen. And that's Heiter. We're the Hero's Party. And Frieren is our mage."

Naruto didn't laugh.

He didn't speak for a second.

Then he tilted his head, slowly, deadpan. "...Nice joke. Solid deadpan delivery. But be serious, now."

"We are serious," Himmel replied, his gaze unwavering. "Why would I lie about something like that?"

Naruto's eye twitched, a nervous tic that only appeared when he was truly stressed. "Because Hero Himmel—you—died 31 years ago. Stark's master Eisen is dead. Fern's foster father Heiter is dead, too. All of you are dead! So stop lying!"

A long, somber silence followed. The golden light in the clearing seemed to dim, as if the weight of Naruto's words had sucked the warmth out of the air.

Heiter, the priest, rubbed his beard with one hand and looked Naruto over, his expression a mix of pity and fascination.

"My friend..." he said carefully, his voice filled with a solemn gravitas. "Is there, by any chance... any chance at all... you're from the future?"

Õ—T—Õ

Author Note:

"Thus, the author dropped the first chapter of the Time Travel Arc."

Drop your thoughts in the review section. Your words inspire me to write faster, better and with more depth.

Till next time!

~Phoenix.