She Who Became Immortal

Iota Polo, a member of the Kobold tribe, has spent more time in the demon realm's frontier than in Sutin village since seeking refuge with Euphemia.

This preference stems from the fact that the frontier offers a more suitable environment for Iota to showcase his skills compared to the wheat fields of Sutin. Whether it's crafting thread from plant fibers or fashioning wood parts, such tasks are more easily managed in the frontier.

Unfortunately, due to Euphemia Grimwood's residency in Sutin village, Iota hasn't had many opportunities to interact with her. Nevertheless, Sutin village has its own intriguing aspects.

One notable feature is the rapid development of the frontier.

While half of the demon races reside in Sutin village, the other half either frequent the blacksmith dwarf Dubil's place or shuttle between the frontier and Sutin village. Contrary to expectation, the border of the demon realm doesn't host many demon races; instead, orcs and the recently accepted taurus tribe dominate the area.

Nevertheless, there are still a few demon races present.

They effortlessly fell trees with single swings of their weapons, a task that would typically require multiple strikes. Additionally, since everyone possesses basic magical abilities, concerns regarding water and fire are mitigated.

"Developing the frontier is quite enjoyable; I like this," remarks Euphemia Grimwood with a smile, and indeed, the rapidly evolving forest fills Iota with an odd sense of excitement.

To think that after being displaced from his homeland and facing hunger, there exists a place where only the future matters—this was beyond Iota's imagination. In fact, none of the Polo kobold tribe could have fathomed such a possibility.

Overseeing the frontier is Blance, a woman who appears to be in her twenties, though Iota isn't adept at discerning human or demon ages. She claims to be seventy-eight herself. With long hair reminiscent of Maya's, a slightly shorter stature, and sharp eyes, Blance exudes a formidable presence.

She stands out from other Polo tribe members, who tend to be more laid-back and task-focused. Blance, on the other hand, is energetic, proactive, and deeply responsible. It's likely she's involved in every aspect of the frontier's operations.

Metal parts forged by Dubil Ganon are transported to the frontier for processing and assembly by Iota and others residing in cabins. Orcs then carry the assembled goods to the riverside, where they're further transported to Sutin village by a recent addition to the Bernard tribe, a canine beastman. Blance meticulously inspects every step of the process.

"Excellent work as always," Blance commends, smiling as she pats Iota's head. Kobolds are often patted by other races, so the gesture doesn't hold any particular significance for Iota. However, he notices something unique about the way Blance pats his head.

Blance's touch is firm, yet there's a subtle gentleness that Iota appreciates. It's a gesture that speaks volumes about their shared experiences.

Occasionally, fragments of their past emerge. Originally from a demon tribe in the demon realm, they were tasked with attacking the human realm—a mission tantamount to a death sentence. Then, they encountered Euphemia Grimwood.

"I considered leaving too, but someone had to watch over them. We were once faithful of the Demon Lord and the Yunofeliza tribe... But that's all changed now," Blance reflects with a sardonic smile tinged with sadness.

While Iota also ponders his lost homeland, he doesn't harbor the same sentiments as Blance. The Polo tribe was attacked, plundered, and forced to flee, but they refused to die with pride. Blance and the others may have ceased being part of the Yunofeliza tribe, but the Polo tribe identity remains steadfast.

"Hey, Iota. Do you ever wonder if that blonde girl is deceiving us with her smiles? Perhaps we're being lured into something dangerous," Blance muses, squatting down to meet Iota's gaze, her hand patting his head with a gentler touch.

"I asked Maya about it. Junos has grown stronger since coming here, probably thanks to Euphemia Grimwood. His perspective has shifted. Honestly, I find joy in each day," she confides softly.

Blance's fingertips change their motion, delicately tracing Iota's fur like feathers in the wind.

"I find joy in forgetting the past, embracing the present, and anticipating the future... Sometimes I feel guilty for it. It's a secret between us, Iota. Just a slight grumble," she adds with a wistful smile.

But deep within her voice, there's a whisper.

"Where...are...we...heading...?"

The demon races would harvest lumber, which the orcs would then roughly shape, leaving the Polo tribe to refine it from "material" to "component."

While hunting and food preservation also took place concurrently, the priority tasks were efficiently managed.

Once processed, the goods were brought to the cabin entrance, where orcs transported them to the forest's edge using carts. The carts also carried various other items. At the forest's edge, additional cargo awaited transport, which the Bernard tribe loaded onto carriages.

"Hey there. Iota's joining us for the village trip this time," remarked Alto of the Bernard tribe, his eyes drooping with sleepiness. Despite their differing races, there was a sense of camaraderie among the beastmen.

"Good to see you. Since there's assembly work, I'll hop onto the first carriage," Iota replied.

"Sure thing. We've got all the carriages ready. How's everything on your end?" Alto inquired.

"Smooth sailing. The food's delicious. And with you?" Iota asked.

"Things are good here too. It's smoother than before, and I've got no complaints. In fact, they're treating me well, and the food's top-notch," Alto replied, scratching the horse's ears with a slightly embarrassed smile.

Iota resonates with his sentiment.

Unlike Blance and the others, they've simply drifted here and found a place. It's a gentle agreement—do what you can. For now, there are no troubles.

Under Euphemia Grimwood's leadership, the group's "can-do" spirit encompasses a wide range of tasks, leaving little room to dwell on what they cannot accomplish.

Back in their hometown village, they had to resort to traps for meat, with limited success. Moreover, the village's location wasn't conducive to hunting wild animals. While the Polo tribe's processed goods were valuable for trade, they struggled with bargaining.

Likely, most beastman tribes faced similar challenges.

They accepted gathering only among themselves and viewed life's hardships as inevitable. There was no inclination for improvement.

"Perhaps we're at a unique turning point. Something different is on the horizon, involving many things and people..."

—Where are we heading?

Blance's words linger in his thoughts.

Iota doesn't have an answer.

It seems Alto is in the same boat.

"Perhaps. This place is mysterious. And Lady Euphemia, she's a mystery herself. I always thought important people wanted everything, but..."

Indeed, that's true.

In his hometown, Iota, representing the Polo tribe, was merely a young man. Power lay with the elder, who wasn't particularly greedy but always seemed to seek something they lacked—be it knowledge, tools, or manpower to ease their hardships.

But Euphemia is different.

She always appears to be enjoying herself. Even though Iota doesn't interact with her much due to his work in the frontier, he senses it. Because everyone seems to be having fun. Even Blance acknowledged it.

Because it's fun—so, more.

More, more, more, always...

And then, what's next?

"But for now, let's focus on the task at hand. There's a lot of cargo, and we need to make one more round trip," Alto said, diverting his gaze from the future, observing his companions loading cargo onto the platform. Iota nodded in agreement.

We may not know the future, but there are things we can be certain of.

If we hadn't taken this path, we would have perished helplessly.

That much, Iota understands.