Demonic Dragon: Harem System - Chapter 583

Chapter 583: Take care of her, I’m going to disappear.

The third day dawned with a gray sky, as if the weather itself were evaluating the group’s boldness. The courtyard was nearly empty—most had already finished their preparations and retired to rest before takeoff the next day. The sound of Cassandra’s wings, practicing rapid movements in the air, echoed in the background, while Monica sharpened her blade with an almost unnerving calm.

Strax stood near the walls, watching Frieren’s solitary figure leaning against a column, her gaze lost on the horizon. She seemed calm, but Strax knew that stillness—it was the silence of someone reflecting on much more than they let on.

He approached slowly, his footsteps heavy on the stone floor.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked bluntly, stopping beside her. “There’s still time to change your mind.”

Frieren tore her eyes from the sky and looked at him with a slight arch of her eyebrow. “Change your mind?”

“Yes,” Strax replied, crossing his arms. “Wouldn’t it be more… sensible… for you to go to your daughter and stay with her? This crossing won’t be easy, Frieren.”

She watched him for a few seconds, then let out a low, almost musical laugh. “You still talk to me as if I were the Queen of the Elves.”

“You were,” Strax replied, as if that ended any argument.

“I was,” she emphasized with a calm smile. “I’m not anymore. And if I still were… I probably wouldn’t be here.”

Strax frowned, but she continued, turning to face him better. “You know, Strax… I’ve lived for over a thousand years, and in all that time, I’ve never left what you call the ‘central continent.'”

He inclined his head. “You?”

“Yes.” She gave a half smile. “Elves, humans, dwarves… all of us, trapped within the same borders. Discussing borders, wars, trade… as if that were all the world was.”

Strax noticed she spoke with a glint in her eye he rarely saw in her. Frieren had always been the picture of control and serenity, but now there was something different there—a spark of excitement.

“So this story of the three continents moved you,” he observed.

“More than I imagined,” she confessed. “Knowing that there are lands so distant, untouched… that there are kingdoms and creatures that not even the elven libraries have recorded… it stirred something inside me. Something I thought had died centuries ago.”

“Curiosity,” Strax said.

“Curiosity,” she repeated, nodding slightly. “It’s as if I’ve spent centuries staring at the same garden, and now someone has shown me that there’s an entire forest beyond it.”

The wind blew, bringing the distant scent of rain. Strax was silent for a few moments, studying her expression.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder… Evelyn.”

Frieren sighed softly. “Evelyn is strong. And, if you must know, I already sent her a message.”

“Message?” He raised an eyebrow. “When?”

“Last night.” Her smile widened, almost amused. “I used a direct binding spell. Don’t worry, she knows exactly where I am and where I’m going.”

Strax snorted, halfway between resigned and satisfied. “Then she’ll probably already be preparing a lecture for me when we get back.”

Frieren let out a short laugh. “Oh, sure.”

They stood side by side for a few minutes, watching the darkening sky. The courtyard slowly filled with small sounds: Samira inspecting her armor, Scarlet oiling the blades, Cassandra and Monica exchanging taunts. The energy was different now—no longer the tension of the previous days, but a determined calm. Everyone knew that, come dawn, there would be no turning back.

Strax looked at Frieren once more. “You are indeed over a thousand years old… but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so excited about anything.”

“Because I’ve never had a reason to,” she replied simply. “I’ve spent centuries watching the same cycle repeat itself: wars, treaties, betrayals, temporary peace… and then all over again. But now…” she looked to the horizon, where the sea stretched invisibly beyond the mountains, “…now there’s something new. Something I don’t know.”

“And is that enough?” he asked.

“For me, yes.” Frieren turned to face him with a firm gaze. “I don’t just want to survive, Strax. I want to see.”

He smiled, a small but sincere smile. “Then let’s make you see the worst continent in the world.”

“The worst?” she repeated with a slight irony. “It’s… perfect.”

Night fell quickly, bringing with it the scent of a storm approaching from the distant coast. In the main room, maps lay spread out on the table, some so old their edges crumbled to the touch. Scathach, Scarlet, and Ouroboros discussed possible routes, while Monica sketched on the parchment the wind currents that could be used to conserve energy during the flight.

Frieren entered silently, but everyone noticed her presence.

“So, the elf is really going,” Scarlet commented, without looking up from the map.

“The elf is listening,” Frieren replied with a half-smile.

“Good.” Scarlet glanced at her quickly. “Because, honestly, I thought you’d refuse.”

“If it were somewhere else, maybe. But…” she glanced at Scathach, “…I can’t resist the idea of seeing something none of my people have ever seen.”

Scathach nodded, satisfied. “Good. We need eyes that see beyond the obvious.”

Ouroboros, ever watchful, inclined his head. “Do you think you’ll find something… of your people… there?”

Frieren thought for a few seconds. “I don’t know. But if there is, I want to be the first to know.”

There was a brief silence before Monica broke the mood with a joke about how many years she would need to live to make another trip like that. Laughter rippled through the air, but the tension never completely dissipated.

…

The corridor leading to Albert’s office was plunged into darkness, lit only by the torches attached to the stone walls. The sound of Strax’s boots echoed with a steady weight, each step marked by a clear purpose. Behind him, Stella followed in absolute silence, her face impassive, but her eyes attentive to every movement.

There was no conversation. Between them, words were unnecessary when the objective was obvious.

Arriving at the double doors, made of dark wood reinforced with steel, Strax didn’t knock. He simply pushed, and the low creak of the hinges announced his entrance.

Albert sat behind a massive desk covered in documents, maps, and reports. He didn’t look up immediately—he continued writing with rapid movements, as if finishing that sentence were more urgent than any unexpected visit.

“You’re early,” Albert said, without pausing to write. His voice was deep, but filled with controlled calm. “I imagine it’s not to exchange pleasantries.”

“No,” Strax replied, advancing to the center of the room. Stella remained near the door, not interfering. “Take care of this one, or send her home. I’m going to be gone for a few years.” He said, pointing his thumb at Stella.