Frieren's Undead Warrior (Frieren x Male Reader)

Chapter 5

Y/n's POV

"You know, you could have told us you were immortal from the start," Stark remarked.

It was bitterly cold, with the unforgiving winter of the Northern Lands swirling around us. Our progress was slow as we struggled navigate though this icy blizzard.

"That's something I don't reveal to random strangers I just met," I replied.

"You told Mistress Frieren," Fern pointed out.

"She's different. Given her age, she was more likely to understand. It made sense for me to tell her. Besides, I inadvertently hinted at it when we were all talking in the cell back at Graft Granat's place. She was suspicious of me from there, so I had to tell her at that point," I explained. Suddenly, Stark collapsed. He must have been exhausted, and cold. We quickly rushed over to his side. Fern supported him and tried to rouse him.

"Regardless, we're lost. We haven't even made it to the Schwer Mountains. How pitiful," Frieren sighed.

"Mister Stark, you need to wake up. Sleeping right now will kill you," Fern pleaded, lightly tapping his face to no avail. "What do we do?" She looked to Frieren for guidance.

"Well, the winds are too strong for any magic transportation. He'd be blown across the sky," the elf assessed.

"I'll carry him," I offered, hoisting Stark onto my shoulder. Surprisingly, he was lighter than I had anticipated. We pushed along, making progress slowly but surely.

"There should be an emergency shelter at the foot of the mountains," Frieren informed.

"And you know this from eighty years ago? Are you sure it'll still be there?" Fern asked skeptically.

"Yeah, no doubt it'll still be there," I replied confidently. "Emergency shelters were built strong. They can endure several lifetimes,"

...

As we reached the foot of the mountain, ahead of us, through the hazy glimmer of the snowstorm, we saw a silhouette of a small cabin-like shelter.

"Excellent. It seems to me that it's been maintained rather well," Frieren observed. Approaching the door, we heard the grunts of someone inside.

"Looks like someone got here before us. We don't know if they're friend or foe," Fern remarked, eyeing at the door cautiously.

"At this point, I don't care. I'd take both than us freezing to death," I decided, opening the door. Inside, an unexpected sight greeted us: An elf performing squats shirtless. He wore black pants and had spiky olive-green hair with the distinct pointed ears of his kind.

"Yep! Heating up! I'm warmer already!!" The elf exclaimed between his exercises, noticing use but offering no verbal greetings.

"Pardon the intrusion," Frieren attempted to enter, squeezing through me, but Fern intervened, pulling her back and shutting the door firmly.

"Not a chance. We need to keep looking around. We cannot stay here," she insisted.

"What? Why not?" Frieren and I asked simultaneously.

"Because there's a pervert in there,"

Just then, the door opened once more. "A pervert you say? That's not nice," the man responded before taking a notice to Frieren. "Wait, are you an elf?" He then gestured for us to enter. Now that I had a good look at him up close, he seemed oddly familiar, which made no sense as I hadn't met another elf before Frieren.

...

We all gathered by the crackling fire, basking in its comforting warmth while the larger elf adjusted the light fixture on the ceiling. Despite the shelter's modest size, there was a ample sleeping space and room for other activities.