Chapter 23: Starry Night
Compared to his emotionally detached kinsmen, Kraft had witnessed far too many emotions during his years of adventuring that he had never encountered before in the Elf Forest.
The raw grief of a widow clutching her husband's sword. The desperate fury of a father defending his child. The bitter laughter of soldiers sharing their last meal before battle.
Each memory carved itself into his consciousness like script on stone.
This gave him a far greater understanding of emotions than his kinsmen in the Elf Forest.
While they drifted through centuries like leaves on still water, Kraft had learned to read the subtle tremor in a voice that meant fear, the particular way shoulders dropped when hope finally died.
In truth, for the Elves, emotional detachment actually served as a form of protection.
The Elves simply lived too long; if they didn't ignore some things and intentionally forget others, it would only torment themselves.
Kraft had seen what happened to those who didn't learn this lesson, elves who counted every mortal friend they'd lost, who remembered every slight as if it had happened yesterday.
They went mad, or worse, they became hollow shells wearing familiar faces.
Over time, the Elves inherently learned how to dilute their emotions, letting decades blur together until pain became merely an abstract concept.
Kurtz smiled, not taking up his words. The firelight caught the edge of his expression, making it impossible to read what thoughts moved behind those human eyes.
He naturally knew why Serie valued him so much, but he wouldn't tell her.
The secret sat in his chest, knowledge of futures yet to unfold, of a world where Serie would become legend and he would be nothing more than a footnote in history. If he even survived that long.
He understood the principle that an innocent man commits guilt by possessing a treasure. Even the most trustworthy person could reveal secrets under torture. Better to carry the burden alone.
Even if Kraft wasn't the type of person to blab, the fewer people who knew about this matter, the better, unless one day his strength became so great that even gods would grow wary; only then would he reveal this secret.
But gods... Kurtz glanced at Serie's tent and wondered if she would become something close to that, given enough centuries.
Gradually, the night deepened.
The bonfire also died out, leaving only scattered starlight illuminating the land.
The dying embers pulsed like a heartbeat, casting dancing shadows that made the surrounding trees appear to shift and sway despite the still air.
Somo had long since used his battle-axe as a pillow, sleeping soundly and occasionally letting out soft snores. The dwarf's face, usually creased with worry lines during waking hours, had smoothed into something almost childlike in sleep.
Kraft leaned against a tree trunk with his eyes closed, as if asleep, but Kurtz couldn't be sure. The elf's breathing remained too controlled, too measured.
Adventurers learned to rest without truly sleeping, to maintain that knife's edge of awareness that kept them alive.
Meanwhile, Serie slept alone in the tent. Or at least, Kurtz assumed she slept. With Serie, one could never be entirely certain.
Since these two joined, he hadn't lain in the tent with her for a long time, and he suddenly missed the feeling of holding his petite little master.
The way she would unconsciously curl closer to his warmth, her usual haughty demeanor softening into something almost vulnerable.
Those moments felt stolen from time itself, brief reprieves where the weight of future knowledge couldn't touch him.
This time, to be on the safe side, Serie had directly expanded the warning magic's range to two hundred meters, so that even if something unexpected happened, they would have time to react.
The spell hummed at the edge of Kurtz's awareness, a gentle pressure that reminded him of standing too close to a waterfall.
However, judging by the situation these past few days, she had exercised excessive caution. The roads had remained eerily peaceful, almost suspiciously so.
But Kurtz had learned not to question Serie's instincts when it came to magical threats.
Kurtz couldn't sleep, and he turned over again on the ground. The earth beneath him had worn smooth from countless other travellers, but small rocks still dug into his shoulders and hips.
He shifted position for what felt like the hundredth time.
He always struggled with insomnia, but it struck particularly severe today.
Images from his previous life kept surfacing unbidden: fluorescent lights, the blue glow of computer screens, the constant hum of electricity.
Sometimes he wondered if those memories contained more dream than reality.
Perhaps he could invent a sleep-aid magic in the future. Though knowing his luck, he'd probably create something that put the caster into a coma instead.
He pondered this in his mind when the tent flap rustled and a small head poked out.
Serie's silver hair caught starlight like spun moonbeams, and her eyes found his with unnerving accuracy in the darkness.
Serie and Kurtz met eyes, and he spoke first: "What? Going to pick flowers? Do you need me to come along?"
He actually joked; he had said this to Serie before, but at that time, she didn't understand what Kurtz meant by 'picking flowers'.
The euphemism had sailed completely over her head with the innocence of someone who'd lived too long to bother with human delicacy.
Instead, she replied to him, "Why go pick flowers late at night?"
After Kurtz explained, Miss Serie finally blurted out a sentence after a long while.
"The Elves don't need that kind of thing." Her cheeks flushed the faintest pink, barely visible in the dim light.
As for whether it rang true or false, Kurtz didn't know. He suspected it represented Serie's way of maintaining dignity rather than admitting to basic biological needs.
In any case, although they adventured together, they couldn't be together every moment.
"No, do you want to learn plant-element magic?" Serie shook her head, suddenly asking this.
Her voice carried that particular tone she used when she tried to sound casual about something important.
This left Kurtz a bit confused, "Why ask so suddenly? And in the middle of the night." The timing seemed bizarre, even for Serie's unpredictable teaching methods.
Couldn't she teach magic during the day?
Why choose such a strange time?
"Today is a special day; the Night of Stars and Moon makes plant elements more active, making it very suitable for practicing plant magic at this time." Serie gestured upward with one delicate hand, as if she could pluck the celestial bodies from their perches.
Kurtz looked up at the sky.
Indeed, tonight's moon and stars shone exceptionally bright. The moon hung full and luminous, casting everything in silver relief, while stars scattered across the heavens like diamonds spilled on black velvet.
Even the air felt different, charged with potential, thrumming with magic so dense he could almost taste it.
"Alright! But we need to go a bit further away." Kurtz pushed himself to his feet, brushing dirt from his clothes.
Kurtz didn't want to wake the other two, and Serie understood his meaning, so she waved her hand: "Follow me."
The two quietly left the camp, their footsteps muffled by damp earth and fallen leaves.
Unbeknownst to them, behind them, Kraft opened his eyes. The elf watched their retreating forms with the detached interest of a cat observing mice.
Adventuring in the wilderness, falling into deep sleep would only lead to a quicker death, so even in this multi-person adventure situation, he still maintained his vigilance.
Every sound registered in his consciousness: the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of small creatures in underbrush, the almost inaudible whisper of footsteps moving away from camp.
However, he had no intention of doing anything; whatever Serie's purpose or intention, it held no relevance to him. He'd learned long ago not to involve himself in the affairs of others unless directly threatened.
He remained just an adventuring Elf. Nothing more, nothing less.
On the other side, the two arrived at an open space, and after Serie investigated and confirmed no magical beasts lurked around, she said.
"I originally wanted to wait until you had fully mastered light magic before teaching you plant-element magic, but I didn't expect your talent to exceed my imagination."
The clearing proved perfect for magical practice, a natural amphitheater ringed by ancient trees, their branches creating a living cathedral overhead.
Moonlight streamed down through gaps in the canopy, creating pools of silver light on the forest floor.
Kurtz possessed exceptionally good magical talent.
He himself might not have noticed, but in Serie's eyes, his magical talent already matched her own.
She'd watched him grasp concepts that took most elves decades to understand, seen him adapt spells with an intuitive grace that spoke of natural genius.
It struck her as simultaneously thrilling and infuriating.
People should know that she had gained quite a reputation throughout the Elf Forest due to her excellent magical talent and unconventional ideas.
Other elves whispered about the strange young mage who asked uncomfortable questions and challenged traditional methods.
Among these, the former held the most importance.
If it weren't for the former, she would just be a simple eccentric Elf. Talent forgave many sins, even the sin of thinking differently.
In Serie's plan, she might have spent ten, twenty, or even thirty years teaching Kurtz, but now it seemed it wouldn't take that long.
The thought brought mixed emotions, pride in his swift progress warring with an inexplicable sense of loss.
"Then should I say thank you?" Kurtz also didn't expect Serie to praise his magical talent. His voice held genuine surprise, tinged with something that might have been wonder.
One must know that she would become the strongest mage of future humanity. The weight of that knowledge sat strangely in his chest, pride and sorrow intermingled.
Humanity in the future wouldn't represent a clear concept like it did now; instead, everyone who looked like a human would be called human. The distinction would blur as wars raged, and survival mattered more than race.
Of course, the Demon race might have been too lazy to differentiate, so they deliberately acted that way.
But even so, Serie would still earn the title of strongest mage on the entire continent, so people could imagine the terrifying extent of her power.
To receive her praise, it seemed his magical talent truly excelled.
"It seems I need to set a small goal for myself, starting with becoming the strongest mage on the continent," Kurtz quipped. The joke fell from his lips before he could stop it.
However, Serie's expression grew a bit strange. Something flickered across her features, too quick to interpret, gone before he could puzzle out its meaning.
"Brief life..." The words slipped from her lips like a prayer, or perhaps a curse.
"Huh? Did you say something?"
Because her voice rang too soft, Kurtz didn't quite hear what she said.
"Nothing." Serie turned away, but not before he caught the tightening around her eyes.
Serie didn't quite believe Kurtz could reach this step; if he were an Elf, Serie might have thought it somewhat possible, but ultimately, he remained just a human. The cruel mathematics of mortality couldn't be argued with.
A brief life could not accumulate vast magic power, and naturally, it would prove impossible to become the strongest mage.
Even with exceptional talent, humans simply didn't have the centuries needed to build the kind of power that could shake the world.
Unless his talent already exceeded her own. The thought sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine.
But how could such a thing be possible?
Serie dismissed this possibility in her mind. The alternative seemed too strange to contemplate, that this human, this brief flame, might burn brighter than she ever could.
How could she possibly allow Kurtz to surpass her?
The proud Miss Serie would never admit that such a thing could happen. Pride remained all she had left, sometimes the one constant in a world of endless change.
"Let's begin." Serie decided not to dwell on the matter and instead began to wholeheartedly teach Kurtz plant magic.
Ultimately, for the Elves, plant-element magic didn't prove as practical as light magic, or rather, it didn't possess the terrifying, destructive power of light magic. But it had its own subtle elegance, a harmony with the natural world that appealed to Serie's artistic sensibilities.
In most battles, plant magic served restraining and supportive roles, binding enemies, creating barriers, and sometimes healing wounds with the right herbs and preparation.
Just like when Serie previously cast the Wall of Thorns to block the magical beasts' pursuit.
The memory of that spell still impressed Kurtz, the way thorns had erupted from apparently barren ground, weaving together into an impenetrable barrier in mere seconds.
Besides that, it involved controlling plants for entanglement or even attack; if one truly discussed the race most proficient in plant magic, it would still be the Druid Clan in the forest.
They lived so closely with nature that the distinction between self and forest often blurred.
People said that they could summon vines as thick as ancient towering trees for attack, and when necessary, they could even summon Treants to control.
Kurtz had never seen such magic, but Serie spoke of it with the respect due to true masters.
And their Elves' plant magic merely represented a superficial understanding compared to theirs.
Serie's honesty about their limitations proved both refreshing and humbling, a reminder that even the strongest mage had room to grow.
____________
Check out the Patreon for advanced chapters right now:
👉 patreon.com/Mr UmU
https://www.patreon.com/Mr_UmU
_______________
Frieren: My Master Serie Don't Know How to Love ~: 40+ Chapters
Warhammer 40K: The Emperor's Raven: 45+
1960: My Uncle is the Director of the FBI: 65+