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To Kill Me Softly by Qliphoth
Fandoms: 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Manga), 葬送のフリーレン | Sousou no Frieren | Frieren: Beyond Journey's End (Anime)
05 Dec 2023
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Summary
The Hero Party returns to the Royal Capital. The following day, Himmel awakens to find two horns sprouting on his head.
Looks like Himmel is now a demon.
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Bookmark Notes:
🥺🥺🥺❤❤❤❤💾
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Bookmark Notes:
Chapter 2
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Bookmark Notes:
Ch2
To Kill Me Softly
Qliphoth
Summary:
The Hero Party returns to the Royal Capital. The following day, Himmel awakens to find two horns sprouting on his head.Looks like Himmel is now a demon.
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From either side behind his temples, amidst silky blue curls, two bony protrusions stuck out several inches upwards.Horns. Identical to those of demons. His fingers traced their ridges. And nope, they were neither hallucinations nor embellishments. The migraines returned as his mind veered off into how and why.
Food poisoning? Spell gone awry? A mimic in disguise?
The final inference seemed logical. Certainly he possessed instincts similar to mimics—chomping up the elven mage of their party—metaphorically speaking.
How could one resist the urge to poke her cheek, pat her head, or spin her around, when the mage looked fluffy and cuddly? Himmel did not blame mimics for their lack of self-control.
"…Stop, Himmel! It's not the time!"
Banging his head against the wall, he purged all naughty thoughts from his head, along with his migraines, if not the horns.
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Survival instincts evolved demons to be what people found aesthetically pleasing, and less threatening, despite all evidence to the contrary. In retrospect, people had commented on his gracious handsomeness to go beyond human.The hero put his chin in his hand.
"Even if my wish is to grasp the feelings of long-living species…" He lamented to his reflection, not sure what to do except shake his head. "This isn't what I had in mind…"
As the door swung open, Heiter staggered in, face ashen as an undead's, glasses skewed, still blisteringly hangover. "Eisen's already ordered for us. If you miss breakfast, I'll finish yours. No mercy." A quizzical brow arched at the hero in front of the mirror. "What are you dawdling over? Hairstyle?"
"Oh, Heiter," the hero called out, and directed the priest's attention towards the odd growths on his head. "My latest fashion statement."
Hungover-ridden mental capacity equal to scrambled eggs, this took some time for Heiter to process. "That's…" He assessed the horns. "The kind of trend to cover up bald patches… Well, I won't judge."
Himmel stared. Heiter stared back, befuddled, and then an epiphany struck like lightning.
"Of course," the priest nodded sagely. "We can't spook artisans with such get-ups.… But how else to hide hair loss?"
Today seemed to be the weekly occurrence where alcohol fried the priest's brain beyond recognition, to the hero's misfortune.
Himmel pointed at his horns again. "These aren't fake."
Incredulous, Heiter marched across the room and took hold of the horns. "Wait…?" He yanked to no avail, as if the horns were melded with the cranium. Several diagnosing spells later, the priest recoiled in disbelief, fully awake. "Are those real horns?!" His voice climbed a few octaves.
"That they are. Do they match my face?"
Heiter squared his glasses and took a few paces around Himmel to view the horns from all angles. "I daresay they're rather fetching. The best of luck, but not many would appreciate." He stroked his chin. "Now I look closely… You've also got pointy ears."
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Very powerful illusions. Neither of the two, in all the time spent together since boyhood, at the church, ever noticed anything strange about the hero, beyond his conspicuous good looks."Unwittingly, you must've assumed the most advantageous shape—like mimics disguised as treasure chests—for survival." Heiter's scholarly tone never wavered, laying out theories on the table, while celery stalks were picked out from his plate and tossed into his friend's. "So demons couldn't tell you're their kin, and we couldn't either."
The golden omelet, fragrant from thyme and basil, was in danger of becoming unappetizing as more celery made its way. Himmel prodded his fork at the jarring veggies.
Intense emotions supposed to surge up at the revelation of his demonic origin—such as sorrow or guilt—came as distant, fictitious echoes. Attempts to recall them just caused migraines. Instead, the most he felt was mild pique for the ruined day ahead. Impossible to pose for his statue without scaring artisans.
"Strange that the illusion slipped under everyone's radar." Himmel swiped a portion of Heiter's scones for the loss. "Despite my nil magic talent."
For some reason, the words sent the priest chortling. He lowered the volume as other patrons swiveled heads. "That is how the illusion passed undetected."
Unlike his lethal swordplay, Himmel's magical prowess fell short, mostly limited to empowering weapons. Had his younger years been with demons, the fact that he possessed even lower mana among demons' low bar, would relegate him to the dregs of their hierarchy. Masquerading as a human saved his neck.
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Bookmark Notes:
2
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Bookmark Notes:
2025/08/27 past midnight and in 8/28 morning 2/2