Y/n's POV

"You know, you could have told us you were immortal from the start," Stark remarked.

It was bitterly cold, with the unforgiving winter of the Northern Lands swirling around us. Our progress was slow as we struggled navigate though this icy blizzard.

"That's something I don't reveal to random strangers I just met," I replied.

"You told Mistress Frieren," Fern pointed out.

"She's different. Given her age, she was more likely to understand. It made sense for me to tell her. Besides, I inadvertently hinted at it when we were all talking in the cell back at Graft Granat's place. She was suspicious of me from there, so I had to tell her at that point," I explained. Suddenly, Stark collapsed. He must have been exhausted, and cold. We quickly rushed over to his side. Fern supported him and tried to rouse him.

"Regardless, we're lost. We haven't even made it to the Schwer Mountains. How pitiful," Frieren sighed.

"Mister Stark, you need to wake up. Sleeping right now will kill you," Fern pleaded, lightly tapping his face to no avail. "What do we do?" She looked to Frieren for guidance.

"Well, the winds are too strong for any magic transportation. He'd be blown across the sky," the elf assessed.

"I'll carry him," I offered, hoisting Stark onto my shoulder. Surprisingly, he was lighter than I had anticipated. We pushed along, making progress slowly but surely.

"There should be an emergency shelter at the foot of the mountains," Frieren informed.

"And you know this from eighty years ago? Are you sure it'll still be there?" Fern asked skeptically.

"Yeah, no doubt it'll still be there," I replied confidently. "Emergency shelters were built strong. They can endure several lifetimes,"

...

As we reached the foot of the mountain, ahead of us, through the hazy glimmer of the snowstorm, we saw a silhouette of a small cabin-like shelter.

"Excellent. It seems to me that it's been maintained rather well," Frieren observed. Approaching the door, we heard the grunts of someone inside.

"Looks like someone got here before us. We don't know if they're friend or foe," Fern remarked, eyeing at the door cautiously.

"At this point, I don't care. I'd take both than us freezing to death," I decided, opening the door. Inside, an unexpected sight greeted us: An elf performing squats shirtless. He wore black pants and had spiky olive-green hair with the distinct pointed ears of his kind.

"Yep! Heating up! I'm warmer already!!" The elf exclaimed between his exercises, noticing use but offering no verbal greetings.

"Pardon the intrusion," Frieren attempted to enter, squeezing through me, but Fern intervened, pulling her back and shutting the door firmly.

"Not a chance. We need to keep looking around. We cannot stay here," she insisted.

"What? Why not?" Frieren and I asked simultaneously.

"Because there's a pervert in there,"

Just then, the door opened once more. "A pervert you say? That's not nice," the man responded before taking a notice to Frieren. "Wait, are you an elf?" He then gestured for us to enter. Now that I had a good look at him up close, he seemed oddly familiar, which made no sense as I hadn't met another elf before Frieren.

...

We all gathered by the crackling fire, basking in its comforting warmth while the larger elf adjusted the light fixture on the ceiling. Despite the shelter's modest size, there was a ample sleeping space and room for other activities.

"It's been about three hundred years since I've seen another of my kind. I thought the last of the elves had already died out," the man reflected.

"I thought so, too," Frieren concurred.

"Thank you, miss. I appreciate the fire," he addressed Fern gratefully as she wrapped Stark in a blanket to ward off the chill. "I'm glad it was you mages who knocked at my door. The goddess must have led you straight to me," he held his pendant. "I'm Kraft, the monk," he introduced himself.

"I'm Frieren, the mage," the smaller elf responded.

"I am Fern. I'm also a mage," Fern added. "That's Mister Stark. He's a warrior," she gestured to the bundled figure.

"My name is Y/n. I'm a wandering swordsman," I offered with a casual wave.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. So, I heard you're journeying to Aureole. You're going to heaven? Good on you lot. Most people aren't as pious," Kraft remarked, adjusting his clothing on the table.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Frieren said soberly.

"Mistress Frieren, Y/n," Fern interjected. "He keeps getting colder," she was concerned.

I crawled over to him and put my hand against his forehead. "She's right. He's getting colder," I observed, beginning to formulate a plan.

"What are we going to do?" the mage asked. A light came into my head.

"I have an idea," I nodded.

"And what would that be?" Fern pressed for the details.

"Put him next to Kraft when we all go to sleep. His body heat will warm Stark up," I suggested. "He was doing workouts, so his body must be a furnace at this point,"

"That's a great idea," Kraft chimed in, offering a thumbs up. "Good thinking,"

Night fell swiftly, and we all prepared for bed. Frieren and Fern nestled against the wall, while Kraft, with stark beside him, lay in the center of the floor beneath a shared blanket. I settled on the table with another blanket provided by Kraft. As I slept, I wondered where I might have seen Kraft before.

...

"WHO THE HECK ARE YOU?!?!" Stark's loud shout jolted some of us awake, his confusion evident as he surveyed his...sleeping partner.

Slowly the rest of us stirred from our slumber. "Do you have to be so noisy?" Frieren grumbled sleepily. Kraft, standing with his hands on his hips, responded to the outburst.

"That's no way of thanking someone for donating their body heat. I saved your life," he retorted.

Stark's expression shifted as realization dawned. "Your...body heat? Oh. You got a nice body for an old guy," he remarked, his observation earning a blunt response from me as I sat up and hopped off the table.

"Can I not appreciate a man's hard work?" Stark defended himself.

"I am Kraft, the monk," he introduced himself to Stark.

"You must be famous in the monk world. You seem like you've been training for decades," Stark observed, eying Kraft's chiseled physique. Kraft chuckled quietly and began to don his monk robes.

"Stark, you should rest here a while longer. Miss Fern, you can tend to him. Frieren, Y/n, you can come with me to help gather food supplies. My wagon and cargo shouldn't be too far," he proposed, redirecting our focus to the tasks ahead. With that, Frieren, Kraft, and I prepared ourselves to walk to his wagon through the snow. Then, we set out.

"Frieren, about Aureole, what is it you desire from there that's causing you to travel all this way?" Kraft directed his question towards the smaller elf.

"I wish to meet someone there and speak with them again," she replied succinctly, revealing little beyond her objective.

"Well, whoever it may be, they will be glad to see you," Kraft offered an encouraging smile before turning his attention to me. "And what about you, Y/n? What do you wish to gain from Aureole, or are you merely just tagging along with Frieren?"

Feeling uncertain about whether to tell Kraft my condition and motivations for traveling to Aureole, I sought guidance from Frieren, looking at her from the corner of my eye. Her silent, solemn nod conveyed a tacit approval, prompting me to consider sharing this aspect of my journey. "I wish to rid myself of the undead curse," I looked to Kraft with sincerity. His demeanor changed to a more generally serious one.

"You are a human that bears the burden of immortality?" he asked. "As an elf, and a monk, I empathize with your plight, as you would even outlive our kind, nor pass onto heaven naturally. If I may ask, how long have you lived thus far?"

"I have long lost track of the passing years, but I have traversed these lands for millennia, seeking an end to this curse," I explained. "When Frieren mentioned Aureole, I realized it was a path I was yet to explore. Thus, I chose to accompany her on this journey,"

"Do the others know?"

"I told them not long before we encountered that blizzard,"

"I see," Kraft nodded thoughtfully. "Well, trust in me and to the goddess, you will find your answer in Aureole. And to you, Frieren, you will find that person you are looking for as well,"

"Thank you, Kraft,"

After a bit more walking, we reached the wagon, as Kraft had promised. It was partially buried in the snow with boxes, barrels, and sacks peeking out from the drifts.

"I have enough supplies here to last us a long while. Please, use anything you'd like," He offered gracefully.

"That's quite a lot you have there," Frieren conjured her staff, using magic to lift several boxes and barrels, while I took a couple by hand. "Trying to cross the Schwer Mountains in these conditions would be suicide. I'm afraid we're stuck where we are,"

With the supplied gathered, we made our way back to the shelter. During the walk, Kraft broached a curious topic. "I'm curious, Frieren. Do you have any idea who I am?"

"Not in the slightest," she replied.

"I thought so. You, Y/n?" he turned the question to me.

"No, although, you look vaguely familiar to me. I've never met you in my life, nor another elf before Frieren, yet I swear I've seen you or someone with your likeness somewhere," I confessed.

"Maybe we crossed paths, and we didn't know. Regardless, I don't know anything about you two either," Kraft mused.

"She's the mage from the party that killed the demon king," I explained. "I'm no one of great importance, so to speak, just immortal,"

"And what were you before that party, Frieren?"

"What is it you're getting at?" Frieren asked him.

"Just that you and I are elves I suppose," he finished, leaving the rest of the walk silent.

Upon our return, it was time for dinner. We gathered around a mat with food and drinks from the provisions we had brought back from the wagon. While Frieren, Stark, and I began eating, Kraft and Fern began to pray. After the meal, we engaged in simple small talk before turning in for the night. We were going to be here for a long time.

...

...

...

Six months flew by in what felt like a mere blink of an eye. For Frieren and Kraft, too, I would guess. It was a period of training and resource gathering as we endured the harsh weather of the Northern Lands.

As Kraft sat on a tree stump, skillfully carving something out of wood with his knife, Frieren and I approached him as he spoke, "It's been nearly six months now. Thanks to you all, we did what most can't: Survived a grueling winter in the Northern Lands," he reflected, holding up a wooden necklace that he had crafted. "Take this," he offered it to Frieren, who accepted it and inspected it carefully. "Please give it to Fern for me, will you? A fitting token for a girl as pious as she is. I guess being raised by a priest can do that to a person,"

"Yeah, she never forgets to praise the goddess," I remarked.

"Will you explain to me why you believe in this goddess, Kraft?" Frieren asked, curious to know his answer.

Kraft paused, his hand tracing the necklace he wore. "On one condition: You explain why you don't," he countered.

Frieren didn't hesitate to respond. "I find it incredibly odd that if you exclude the age of mythology, the goddess of creation hasn't shown herself once in the massively long history of this world," she explained.

"You're still young. I used to think the same thing. But these days, I like to believe the goddess exists from the bottom of my heart...no--It's more like I need her to exist. Everyone else who knew of my righteous triumphs, my acts of justice, they're long gone, but when I died, I'll go to heaven; and there, the goddess will praise me at last: 'You've done well, Kraft. I'm proud. The life you lived was one of great worth. Good job.' You understand, Frieren. Your path in life has not been easy. For no one to remember everything you've done is painful and cruel. To reach this moment now, we have reached lives and lives on end,"

His words resonated me on a profound level. Once, I never knew the value of life, as I could die over and over and return alive on the spot. Then, I learned to live for other people, rather than for myself, but that part of me still clings to the idea of what death is like and to have something pious to look forward too, like heaven. To be able to put your faith into something that you find religiously significant for when someone passes on... That part, I couldn't understand.

"Kraft, being remembered is something we all selfishly desire," Frieren remarked on his statement.

"You're right. And how does heaven play into that picture?" We all turned to see a fox dislodging itself from the snow that fell from a tree. Then our attention returned to each other. "It's no matter. Tell me about your life, and I'll tell you about mine," Kraft offered. Frieren seemed momentarily lost in thought, likely reminiscing about her past.

She eventually smiled before saying, "I can't put my finger on why, but the goddess attracts the strangest of people. Afraid I must pass. I've had someone praise me enough for a lifetime,"

I remained silent as Frieren and Kraft conversed, sensing that Frieren had gained some insight, as had I.

After a bit of preparing, we all stood at a crossroad, both wanting to part ways and go down our own paths. "Well, I'm headed this way. Frieren, Y/n, this won't be the last time we see each other. I'll see you two in a century, or two," Kraft announced with a smile before walking in the opposite direction of our path.

...

We had been walking for hours, and the strain was evident on all of us, particularly Frieren. Glancing back, I noticed her eyes were halfway shut, her posture hunched, and her movements unsteady. She was clearly exhausted.

"Mistress Frieren is looking tired," Fern announced to Stark and I. We all turned around to see her suddenly faceplant into the snow. It was a somewhat cute and amusing sight, though I suppressed my laughter.

Fern quickly rushed over and supported the elf, confirming that she had passed out. "She's out cold,"

"Well, we cant stop. I'll just carry her," Stark suggested.

"But Mister Stark, your axe," he forgot he had his axe on his back.

"Oh, yeah. My hands are free. I'll just hold her," he gestured to his hands as if he was going to carry her. Fern clearly seemed to be reluctant to do so, as apparently, she didn't trust him with the elf.

"I'll take her," I offered. Fern handed Frieren over to me with confidence, leaving Stark somewhat dejected. With Frieren in my arms, I had her neck laying in my right arm and her legs in my other. I adjusted her position a little to maximize sharing body heat, though I wasn't sure how effective it would be through my armor. Still, it felt comforting to carry her. It felt...nice, having to carry her, not just because I got to help her, but because it showed that Fern trusted me. She was...almost cute, sleeping peacefully. It made my core warm up and caused me to smile. I then looked to her luggage. "Mind carrying her trunk, Fern?" I asked her as she lifted Frieren's belongings.

"Sure," she nodded. We began walking once more.

...

As another snowstorm rolled in, the cold and fierce winds intensified, almost blinding us as we pressed onward.

"Mmmmm...." I heard a sleepy hum from Frieren, and I looked down to see her slowly opening her bright greenish-blue eyes. "Just a dream...."

"How was your nap?" I teased her playfully.

"Not long enough..." she replied softly and sleepily, but with a hint of humor. "Thank you...for carrying me,"

"Happy to do so, elfy," I teased again, earning a soft reprimand from her.

"Don't...call me that," she said softly, turning her head forward as I chuckled a little. "This place...It feels like I've been here before. Perhaps I am still dreaming,"

"If you were it'd probably be warmer, and there'd be grimoires everywhere," I remarked.

"Hmmm," she hummed once more with humor. "I underestimated the mountain weather. We need to keep going north," Frieren stated.

"Yeah, I believe there should be a small village up ahead, right, Frieren?" I asked her.

"That's correct," she affirmed.

"Now that you're awake, do you think you can walk?" Fern asked the elf, who then snuggled a bit more into my body.

"Mmmmmm....no," she replied with closed eyes and a yawn. It was almost as if she was pouting. "He's warm," hearing that caused me to smile and my face to get warmer.

Fern sighed in exasperation. "Just great,"

"Y/n, you must be tired from carrying her all this time. Maybe you should take a break," Stark suggested, holding his hands out.

"I'll have to pass, Stark. I'm fine. I appreciate the gesture, though," I replied with a grin, determined to press forward along with the others while carrying the elf.

...

Soon enough, a silhouette of a large walled village came into view as the winds and snow died down a bit.

"Wow! So there really is a village this deep in the mountains," Stark was surprised. Hearing him talk about making it to our stop, Frieren opened her eyes once more.

"Mmm..." she looked up at me from my arms. "Can you let me down now, please?" she asked politely. I slowly set her feet on the ground, and she stretched a bit before grabbing her trunk from Fern.

"So now you want to walk," Fern sighed.

"I slept well," the elf shrugged.

"Right, what matters is that we're here. We can find an inn, find some food, and find some decent bedding,"

"Oh, was that table not to your liking?" Frieren smiled.

"For six months, no," I laughed.

"A bed sounds wonderful," Stark daydreamed about sleeping in a modest bed at an inn.

As we approached the city gate, we noticed some people standing by, seemingly waiting for us.

What did they want?

To Be Continued...