The instant the visor clattered to the ground, Himl locked onto the angle where Fern was hiding.
Watching Himl move to close in on Fern's position, Frieren reacted without hesitation. A relentless barrage of spells successfully drew Himl's attention back to her. She had already confird it earlier — this Himl's swordsmanship would hold back at the critical mont. Even so, Frieren wasn't willing to gamble on it.
She couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Fern. That ant keeping Himl pinned down herself, no matter what.
Just then, a red figure finally arrived on the battlefield.
"Sorry... Frieren, I'm late... Look, it's not like I can fly the way you mages can, so cut so slack..."
The mont the red-haired young man leapt into the fray, he imdiately swung his double-headed axe and deflected one of Himl's attacks for Frieren.
"Not bad."
Frieren, witnessing this, offered Stark rare and unguarded praise.
"Naturally. That guy's sword hits like a damn wall — but I'm not who I used to be. I know who my enemy is now... To reach the level where I can fight him, I won't back down from any opponent!"
Stark declared it with absolute confidence — practically shouting it to the sky.
"Is that so... You really should be proud of yourself, Stark. What you just deflected — that was Himl's sword."
For once, Frieren actually agreed with Stark's boast.
But in the very next instant, Stark's face went completely blank.
"Who?! You said who?!"
The color drained from Stark's face so completely that Frieren half-expected him to pass out on the spot.
"Wha — that's... Hi... Himl... but the Hero, he's supposed to be..."
While Stark's mind was still reeling in chaos, Himl's sword ca swinging in again.
At that razor-thin instant, Stark's warrior instincts saved him. On pure reflex, he raised his axe and blocked Himl's cleave — but the next second, the shockwave from Himl's strike sent him flying a full ten ters away, his body carving a long furrow into the ground as he skidded to a halt.
"Honestly..."
Frieren let out a quiet, private sigh.
Sotis she genuinely couldn't figure out what was going on with that red-haired kid. Without knowing who his opponent was, he'd pulled off a perfectly cool block. The mont he found out it was Himl, his combat effectiveness seed to drop by half on the spot. A guy with that small a spine was honestly useless.
That said — Stark's sudden entry had already taken a significant amount of pressure off her shoulders.
For one thing... she finally had a mont to breathe. She could pull back slightly, repositioning herself into the range where mages held the advantage.
"Stark! Get up, now! We have to subdue Himl fast — if we don't, I'm going to die. You're going to die. And Fern... Fern is going to die too!"
As Frieren pulled back to create distance, she shouted in Stark's direction — because without a frontliner, even the small gap she'd just opened would be closed by Himl in an instant.
So whether Stark was willing to fight or not, she had to get him moving.
"Fern — is going to die?!"
Frieren's words hit their mark. Stark hadn't fully processed the situation yet — but those four words were enough to trigger sothing fundantal in him.
His strength had never really been in question. He was the kind of man who had slain a Dragon alone, and the disciple of Eisen — the greatest human warrior alive. His problem had always been temperant, not ability.
"I'm going all in!"
Stark let out a shout and launched himself straight at Himl.
This was when Stark's other great quality ca into play — his ability to take a beating.
In just the span of two or three exchanges, his clothes had been shredded to ribbons by Himl's blade, and no small number of cuts marked his body to match.
But injuries like that weren't enough to slow Stark down. He knew his job: hold the front line, absorb the pressure, and give Frieren and Fern the space to attack freely.
"Sothing's off... this hero's strikes are clearly being aid away from vital points. Does he actually want to fight or not?"
Stark frowned, turning it over in his head. He'd already taken plenty of hits — but he also knew perfectly well that if the man across from him were truly going for the kill, Stark's tendons would have been severed long ago.
"It's not working... Himl is too fast. I can't lock onto that move."
Frieren had not been idle either — but watching Himl's impossibly swift movents, she found herself struggling, weighed down by a creeping guilt that she was squandering the opportunities Stark was laying out for her. It made her anxious in a way she rarely was.
"So then... what's needed is sothing that can pin down Lord Himl's feet, is it."
An unexpected voice entered the battle.
Frieren startled and looked back.
The fighting had been so relentlessly intense that even she hadn't noticed the old man slipping in.
"Lernen?"
Frieren was genuinely surprised to see reinforcents appearing now of all tis.
"Lady Serie said sothing unexpected might occur here, and asked to co take a look."
Lernen was standing on high ground — and beneath his feet stood a combat golem, easily twenty ters tall.
"Serie sent you..."
Frieren's brow furrowed slightly. Had Serie known all along that Himl would appear here?
No — that was impossible. Serie's detection range simply extended far enough; she wasn't omniscient. The nature of her mana perception was no different from any ordinary mage's.
Serie, like Frieren herself, had no way to detect Himl's presence — because Himl wasn't using mana.
She'd probably just sensed the disturbance at the front line and dispatched soone to investigate.
Frieren quickly talked herself down, then called out to Lernen in a few clipped words.
"Help keep Himl occupied — and I'll be able to set up the binding magic."
Lernen gave an understanding nod, though a helpless smile flickered across his face for just a mont.
"Didn't expect to cross paths with a legend like this... I wonder if this child can hold up."
Lernen was sharp enough to know this wasn't the ti for questions like why is the dead Hero standing right here — he dropped straight into combat mode.
The "child" he referred to wasn't Stark. It was the enormous golem beneath him.
"Hah... saved..."
With the combat golem now in the mix, the burden on Stark eased considerably.
As Serie's personally instructed disciple, Lernen's golem embodied the highest accumulated wisdom of the Continental Magic Association. Despite its enormous fra, it moved fast enough to keep pace with Himl.
Finally — after a grinding war of attrition, with three mages wearing him down from range and Stark and the combat golem holding him in close — the Hero Himl at last began to show signs of faltering.
Watching Himl's speed start to drop, Frieren felt a surge of hope in her chest.
After all, the last ti she had seen Himl looking this spent and pushed to his limits — was during the battle against the Demon King.
"It's ti."
Frieren said the words, and her small fra suddenly blazed with a sharp, focused intensity. A hundred ters away, Himl — at last, in that very instant — was pressed flat to the ground by an invisible, crushing force that Frieren had released.
____
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