Free Web NovelChapter 916: A letter from the North.
Frieren’s chambers had fallen silent again after the long study of runes.
The small desk remained covered with papers, magical diagrams, and written observations in different languages. Some pages contained corrections made by Strax just minutes before, while others remained open where Frieren had interrupted her studies to listen to him. The soft light streaming through the window partially illuminated the room, creating a tranquil atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaos that normally surrounded them both.
Frieren remained seated at the table.
Her eyes slowly scanned the corrections Strax had made.
And, to her eternal dismay, it all still made sense.
The more she observed those simplified runes, the more she realized she had created dozens of unnecessary layers of complexity. Not because they were useless, but because she always had a tendency to foresee all possibilities before a problem even existed.
It was a habit developed over thousands of years.
And age-old habits didn’t disappear easily.
On the other side of the room, Strax remained seated in a chair near the window, distractedly observing the city beyond the glass.
Asgard continued to grow.
Even from that distance, it was possible to see new buildings springing up in different areas, railways being expanded, and factories operating continuously. The city seemed like a living organism, expanding faster than any place should be able to.
He was just thinking about this when he heard someone knock on the door.
Three quick knocks.
Firm.
Without any ceremony.
Frieren looked up immediately.
Strax did too.
They exchanged a brief glance.
Then the elf calmly rose from her chair.
"I’ll see who it is."
"I bet it’s trouble."
"It usually is."
"See?"
Frieren ignored the comment.
She walked to the door, distractedly adjusting a few strands of her long silver hair. Reaching the entrance, she turned the doorknob and opened the door slowly.
On the other side was Rogue.
The half-human cheetah seemed slightly irritated.
Not furious.
Not worried.
Just tired.
In her right hand, she held a folded letter that swayed continuously between her fingers.
As soon as the door opened completely, Rogue raised the paper.
"Is he there?"
Frieren tilted her head slightly.
"Who?"
"The walking trouble you call Strax."
The elf looked back.
Then calmly pointed to the inside of the room.
"He’s there."
Rogue followed the indicated direction.
Her eyes met Strax immediately.
"Finally."
She entered the room without even waiting for permission. "I’ve been looking for you for almost two hours."
Strax raised an eyebrow.
"That seems like an exaggeration."
"It’s not."
"You’ve found me now."
"Because everyone keeps hiding you."
"I wasn’t hiding."
"You were inside Frieren’s room."
"That’s not hiding."
"That’s exactly hiding."
Frieren closed the door behind her.
Then she calmly returned to the desk while observing the two.
Strax finally turned his attention to the letter Rogue was carrying.
His gaze became slightly more attentive.
Because that paper looked familiar.
Very familiar.
The quality of the material.
The seal.
The coloring.
Everything indicated a specific origin.
"North?"
Rogue nodded.
"Yes."
Strax held out her hand.
"Give it to me."
She handed it over immediately.
"I didn’t open it."
"Surprising."
"I saw the seal."
Rogue pointed to the corner of the paper.
"When I realized it came directly from the Ice Monarch, I decided I didn’t want to find out the contents without you present."
"Smart decision."
"I know."
Strax observed the seal for a few more seconds.
Then she let out a small sigh.
"Mercedes."
Frieren observed this in silence.
Rogue crossed her arms.
And Strax finally opened the letter.
The paper unfolded slowly.
Her eyes began to scan the first lines.
For the first few seconds, her expression remained completely neutral.
Then one eyebrow rose.
Then the other.
And, a few moments later, a small laugh escaped her.
Rogue immediately noticed.
"That’s never a good sign."
"No."
"What happened?"
Strax continued reading.
"I’m trying to decide if this is a cry for help or a threat."
"That didn’t answer my question."
"Because I’m still processing it."
Frieren stood up from her chair.
Curious.
She took a few steps closer.
"What did she write?"
Strax continued reading a few more lines.
Then she started laughing again.
This time a little louder.
"Ah..."
"What?"
"Mercedes is desperate."
Rogue immediately seemed pleased.
"That’s funny."
"Very."
"Explain."
Strax looked up from the letter.
Still smiling.
"She’s complaining."
"About?"
"Dragons."
Frieren blinked. "Dragons?"
"Specifically about raising one."
Now even the elf seemed interested.
Strax looked back at the letter.
Then he began to read some excerpts aloud.
"I’ve dealt with ancient monsters, elemental creatures, incompetent nobles, and generals of dubious intelligence..."
Rogue immediately chuckled.
"That definitely sounds like something she would write."
Strax continued.
"...but nothing prepared me for the traumatic experience of trying to raise a young dragon."
Frieren crossed her arms.
"Traumatic?"
"Apparently."
"Go on."
Strax continued.
"The learning speed of this creature is absurd."
He lowered the letter slightly.
"That’s true."
"Yes," Frieren replied.
"Absolutely true," Rogue added.
Strax nodded.
Then he continued reading.
"She learns anything she sees almost instantly."
"That also looks like a dragon."
"Yes."
"Very."
He went on.
"Yesterday I had to explain why you can’t freeze a mountain just because someone called it small."
The room fell silent.
Then Rogue started laughing.
"She did that?"
"Probably."
"I like her."
"Of course you do."
Frieren also seemed discreetly amused.
Strax returned to reading.
The further he went, the wider his smile became.
Mercedes had clearly written this while mentally exhausted.
Each paragraph seemed like a mix of official report and desperate plea for help.
Then he reached the main part.
And immediately gasped.
"Cough..."
Rogue blinked.
"What?"
Frieren tilted her head slightly.
"Any problem?"
Strax reread the line.
Then reread it again.
Just to be sure.
Unfortunately, it was still written exactly the same way.
"Oh, no."
"What?" they both asked at the same time. frёewebnoѵēl.com
Strax took a deep breath.
Then she read aloud.
"...and this little girl desperately needs a father."
The silence was immediate.
Complete.
Absolute.
Frieren blinked.
Rogue blinked.
Strax remained staring at the letter.
As if expecting the words to change spontaneously.
They didn’t.
"Father?" asked Rogue.
"Father," confirmed Strax.
"She wrote exactly that?" "Exactly."
Frieren held out her hand.
"Can I see?"
Strax handed over the letter.
The elf began to read.
A few seconds later, she found the phrase.
Then she confirmed.
"Yes. It says father."
"I know it says father."
"I’m just checking."
Rogue approached.
"Keep reading."
Frieren returned the letter.
Strax took the paper again.
Still looking slightly traumatized.
Then he continued.
"Even with my abilities, teaching someone to be a dragon is proving significantly more difficult than I imagined."
His tone became more serious.
Because that part seemed genuine.
Mercedes was really having difficulties.
"I can teach combat."
He continued.
"I can teach magic."
Another line.
"I can teach politics, survival, etiquette, military strategy, and territorial administration."
Yet another.
"But I’m not a dragon."
Strax’s smile faded slightly.
Because that was true.
An important truth.
Mercedes was powerful.
Intelligent.
Experienced.
But certain things simply couldn’t be taught by someone who didn’t share that nature.
He continued reading.
"There are questions she asks that I simply can’t answer."
Frieren nodded slowly.
"That makes sense."
"Yes."
Strax continued.
"She wants to know how dragons perceive the world."
Another line.
"Wants to understand why certain instincts exist."
One more.
"Wants to understand what it means to grow up as a draconic creature."
The room fell silent.
Because that part didn’t sound like a complaint.
It sounded like genuine concern.
Mercedes was really trying.
And apparently, she was realizing her own limitations.
Strax continued reading.
"Therefore, I formally request your presence."
Rogue began to smile.
"Here we go."
"I think so too."
He continued.
"Immediately."
"Of course."
"Obviously."
One more line.
"No excuses."
Rogue laughed.
Frieren did too.
Strax just rubbed his face.
"She knows me too well."
Then he reached the end.
And found the last observation.
A sentence written clearly after everything else.
As if it had been added at the last moment.
He read it silently.
Then he stood still.
Rogue noticed immediately.
"What is it now?"
"There’s more."
"Read it."
Strax sighed deeply.
Then he read aloud.
"Furthermore, she started asking when her father would come to visit her."
The silence that followed was even worse.
Much worse.
Because now there was context.
And context made everything more dangerous.
Rogue slowly turned his face away.
Then he looked at Strax.
"Ah."
Frieren also seemed to understand the problem.
"I understand."
"Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"That look."
"What look?"
"That one exactly."
Rogue crossed his arms.
Desperately trying not to laugh.
Failing miserably.
"So there’s a gigantic young dragon in the North."
"Yes."
"Who apparently learns too fast."
"Yes."
"And who’s asking about her father."
"Yes."
"And that father is you."
Strax closed his eyes.
"Technically, the situation is more complicated."
"Of course it is."
"Much more complicated."
"It still seems exactly that way."
Frieren observed the letter for a few seconds.
Then she spoke calmly:
"It seems you’ll need to travel."
Strax looked at her.
Then at the letter.
Then at the ceiling.
Then he let out the most tired sigh of that afternoon.
Because, deep down, he already knew.
Mercedes wouldn’t send a letter like that without a real reason.
And if she was asking for help in that way...
Then the situation was probably much worse than the paper conveyed.
Which meant only one thing.
Somewhere in the North, there was a young dragon growing up too fast.
Asking too many questions.
And causing enough trouble to leave even the Ice Monarch desperate.
And, apparently, she was waiting for him.
