Frieren: Understand Humans, Aura!

'What do I want to escape to?'

Aura gritted her teeth, the question echoing in her mind. "Does it even matter?" she muttered aloud, her voice rough and biting, though the forest offered no response.

'Why did I choose this direction?'

She scowled at herself, shaking her head. "Some great demon I am, running blind like a cornered beast." The words were laced with venom, self-directed yet defensive, as if she expected someone to challenge her reasoning.

The undergrowth snapped beneath her hurried steps, each crackling twig sounding louder than it should. The silence only amplified her thoughts.

'What awaits me in this direction?'

"More damned questions," she hissed, her voice a low growl. "As if the answers will magically fall from the sky."

Her pace faltered slightly as she clenched her fists. "Anything is better than that elf," she spat, the words tumbling out unbidden. "Anything."

The memories clawed at her mind—Frieren's tearful face. Aura snarled, shaking her head violently as if to dislodge the thought. "Don't think about it," she snapped to herself, her voice cracking slightly. "Just keep moving."

"Just wait a little longer," Aura muttered to herself, her voice raw and uneven. "A few more years. That's all it will take. And then… then I'll be me again."

Her steps were frantic, uneven, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. The forest around her seemed oppressive, its shadows reaching out like claws. Yet Aura pressed on, her thoughts louder than her surroundings.

"I'll turn back into a demon. The real me," she whispered fiercely. "The perfect me. No more—" her voice cracked, and she bit down hard on her lip, "—no more of this human nonsense. No more fractures. No more pain."

She stumbled slightly but caught herself, letting out a low, frustrated growl. "And no more commands," she spat, venom lacing her words. "No more being told what to do, what to feel, what to—" She broke off, clenching her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms.

"If I can just…" Her voice softened, trailing off into the wind. "If I can just escape from the hands of that elf…"

The forest offered no solace, only the sound of her labored breathing and the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. Each step grew heavier, her injuries screaming in protest. The adrenaline that had carried her this far was wearing thin, leaving her body a throbbing mass of pain.

"Not yet," she hissed through gritted teeth, forcing her legs to keep moving. "I'm not stopping. I'm not stopping!"

But even as she pushed herself forward, her thoughts betrayed her, clawing at the edges of her resolve.

'What if she catches me? What if I—'

"No!" Aura snarled, her voice echoing through the trees. "She won't. She can't." Her hands trembled as she clenched them at her sides. "I won't let her."

Then, as if the universe itself was mocking her, her path was blocked.

Aura froze, her breath catching in her throat. Standing calmly in her way, bathed in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the trees, was Serie. Her golden hair seemed almost ethereal in the dim light, her expression a perfect mask of neutrality.

Aura's heart sank, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Of course," she muttered. "Of course, it's you."

'Right. Besides Frieren, there is another elf in this world. How could I have forgotten this old undead elf?'

Even if she left Frieren, Aura wouldn't truly be free.

The bitterness in her voice grew sharper as she spoke aloud. "So, what is it, Serie? Did you come here to lecture me? To drag me back like some misbehaving child?"

Serie tilted her head slightly, her expression unchanging. "What do I want? Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? You disappeared without any reason, left without saying goodbye, and got yourself injured on top of it all."

Her voice was calm, almost conversational, but there was an edge of amusement in it that made Aura's blood boil. Serie's gaze flickered to Aura's wounds, her lips curving into a faint, almost pitying smile. "If Zanze asks me about this, how should I explain it? She's going to blame me for not taking better care of you."

Aura's eyes narrowed dangerously, her lip curling into a snarl. "What does this have to do with Zanze? Don't treat me like some pathetic little animal you picked up and brought home!" Her voice rose, sharp and cutting. "I, Aura, am a demon! And from now on, I am free. No more commands. No more restrictions."

Her voice dropped, venom dripping from each word. "The first time I see that woman Zanze, I'll tear her to pieces. And then I'll—"

"Eat her?" Serie interrupted smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, I've heard this before."

Aura faltered, the interruption throwing her off. "You—!"

Serie's calm gaze remained locked on Aura, her smile growing ever so slightly. "But you won't."

A tense silence fell between them. Aura opened her mouth to retort, but the words refused to come. Her hands twitched at her sides, and her breath hitched, caught somewhere between anger and disbelief.

Finally, she managed a single, quiet, "Why not?" But even to her own ears, the question sounded weak.

Serie tilted her head again, her golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You already know the answer to that, don't you?"

Aura said nothing, her silence heavy and suffocating. The only sound was the faint rustling of leaves in the wind.

After a tense silence, Aura finally spoke, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Since Frieren wasn't accepted as a disciple by Flamme, you haven't taken Flamme as a disciple either, have you?"

"In the history you experienced, was that how things were supposed to go?" Serie tilted her head slightly, as if pondering Aura's words.

"Don't dodge the question," Aura snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Flamme is the hope of human magic. Go and take her as your disciple." Her voice carried both a demand and a scornful edge, as if she were stating an undeniable truth.

"You are also my disciple," Serie replied smoothly, as if the statement required no further elaboration.

Aura's lip curled into a sneer. "How arrogant, Serie. I never thought of becoming your disciple." Her disdain was palpable, practically dripping off each word.

Serie didn't flinch, her faint smile unwavering. "Arrogant, perhaps. But true, nonetheless."

Aura scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. To her, the idea was absurd—Serie, supposedly the most powerful mage in the world, wanting to take her, a demon, as a disciple? It was lunacy.

"You really are insane," Aura muttered under her breath, though loud enough for Serie to hear. "Do you think every mage or demon you meet is just waiting to kneel at your feet? What next, Serie? Will you start calling Frieren your disciple, too?"

Serie ignored the jab, her focus shifting back to Aura's earlier suggestion. "Should you really be the one saying this?"

Aura stiffened at the question, her expression hardening. She knew exactly what Serie was referring to.

"This is not the only thing I've done wrong," Aura admitted sharply, her voice taut, "but it will definitely be the last one."

Serie raised an eyebrow, curiosity flickering across her face. "And what do you intend to do next, Aura?"

Aura straightened her posture, ignoring the searing pain that radiated through her body. "I will find a way to revive the demon race and kill all the humans and elves in the world!" she declared, her voice loud and unwavering. For the first time, she locked eyes with Serie, her crimson gaze burning with defiance.

Serie's expression remained calm, but her silence spoke volumes.

Serie ignored Aura's feigned bravado. She saw that Aura was strong on the outside but weak on the inside. Although she seemed resolute and brave on the surface, her body had actually begun to tremble quietly. She was extremely afraid of death.

Did Serie not know this timid and soft demon well enough?

Aura's lips curled into a sneer. "What's the matter? Don't have a clever retort this time? Or maybe you're just too stunned by my brilliance?" Her bravado rang hollow, but she didn't care. If she was going to die here, she wanted to do so on her own terms, without showing an ounce of fear.

Serie let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. "Do as you please," she said at last, her voice tinged with weariness. "I never interfere with my disciples' actions. Whatever you choose to do is your freedom."

Aura stiffened again, her pride clashing with the word disciple. "Stop calling me that!" she barked. "I'm not your disciple. I'll never be your disciple!"

Serie didn't respond, at least not with words. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a few small vials of healing potions. She extended them toward Aura with a calm, almost gentle gesture, as though she were offering a gift.

"Take these," Serie said, her tone neutral. "Consider them a parting gift from me."

Aura stared at the potions for a moment, her jaw clenching. The thought of accepting help from Serie—an elf—made her blood boil. Her pride screamed at her to refuse, even as her body begged for relief.

With a sharp motion, she slapped the vials out of Serie's hand, sending them scattering across the ground. "I don't need your pity!" she snarled, her voice trembling with anger and something else—something more fragile.

Serie's gaze remained steady, her expression unreadable. "It isn't pity, Aura."

Aura let out a bitter laugh. "Don't lie to me, Serie. You want to save me? Spare me? Don't bother. Elves and demons are mortal enemies. The next time we meet, I will kill you. Mark my words."

Serie tilted her head slightly, her golden hair catching the faint sunlight filtering through the trees. "You'll try," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of finality.

Aura flinched at the response, but she quickly masked it, brushing past Serie without another word. Her movements were stiff and pained, every step a battle against her own failing body. She didn't look back, even as her pride warred with the temptation to retrieve the discarded potions.

Serie stood still, watching Aura's retreating figure with a mixture of sadness and resignation. Her hands fell to her sides, her fingers brushing against the empty space where the vials had been moments ago.

"Aura…" she murmured, more to herself than to the demon. Her voice carried a weight of unspoken sorrow.

She exhaled softly, her gaze lingering on the path where Aura had disappeared. "How stubborn you are. How fragile you are."

The sunlight filtering through the trees painted dappled patterns on the ground, but to Serie, the warmth felt hollow. She had lost another disciple today—one who had never acknowledged the title but was no less cherished in her eyes.

"Sigh…" Serie let out a long breath, tilting her head back to look at the sky. The forest fell silent once more, save for the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.

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Okay, this is the final draft I have, and it also wraps up this arc. What do you all think of the 'Demon Invasion' arc?

Some of you might be wondering, 'Why was the elf village still destroyed even though this Frieren is far far stronger compared to the Frieren in the original timeline?' One of the reasons is because of that Seer. He changed his original plan and recruited stronger demons for the invasion. One of them is the trio of demon generals that Aura fought. Even the Canon Flamme from the same era would have had difficulty facing them.

Some of you smart readers have probably noticed that Aura is actually a Tsundere. In this book, I tried to create a Tsundere character, but without making the Tsundere traits too obvious. So only those who understand the story in detail can spot Aura's Tsundere side. What do you think of this Tsundere behavior?

See you next week~~