Chapter 51: There is no eternal thing in the world
In the evening, Kurtz used the excuse of keeping watch to slip away from camp alone.
Standing under the moonlight, he carefully felt the changes in his body. The cool night air carried the scent of pine and damp earth, but his focus remained inward, searching for something only he could detect.
He already possessed an abundance of vital energy and blood, making any increase difficult to detect. Fortunately, he had prepared for this.
A magic circle formed beneath his feet, its pale blue glow barely visible in the darkness. Using this improved detection magic, Kurtz began observing the changes within his body. The spell revealed what his natural senses couldn't, subtle shifts in the flow of life force through his veins.
"So it is effective," Kurtz murmured, his tone heavy with complexity.
He recalled Serie's words from months ago, her voice carrying that particular mix of clinical fascination and ancient wisdom.
There existed a special type of demon that could plunder the magic power of other races and turn it into their own, somewhat like the 'Star Absorbing Great Art' from wuxia novels.
A question had emerged from this knowledge: could other things be plundered?
Lifespan, for instance.
He'd started with basic experiments, transferring the life force of healthy, growing grass to withered blades nearby. The process required delicate precision to avoid drawing attention.
Kurtz worked discreetly. Even though Serie hadn't noticed, her perception was sharp, but she couldn't monitor him constantly. During adventures, he found plenty of solitary moments for experimentation: hunting, scouting, and standing watch. Each test taught him more about the magic's potential and its terrible cost.
He was fortunate that magic in Frieren's world operated on idealistic principles, imaginative power that allowed him to create new spells through visualisation and creative talent alone.
After numerous experiments, Kurtz had progressed from plants to animals. Today, acting on sudden impulse, he'd tested the magic on Eric. The hunter had been complaining of fatigue, a perfect, unnoticed opportunity.
The brief contact had only drained some of Eric's vital energy. By tomorrow, the man would attribute his weariness to poor sleep, suffering no lasting effects.
But it proved his magic worked on humans.
Yet every power demanded its price.
As Serie had warned, demons that devoured magic power eventually suffered complete soul corruption, losing all reason before their bodies collapsed entirely.
Kurtz's magic carried similar contamination.
Despite the brief usage, corruption had already appeared. Though slight, he detected it clearly, ice water spreading through his spiritual core, leaving traces that would never fully disappear.
The specific effects were difficult to explain. If he needed an analogy, it resembled a certain 'Ally of Justice' who sought to eliminate all evil from the world.
Not the red-haired one, but another.
That person had harboured righteous ideals, yet over time, his entire being, body and soul, had rotted away, eventually becoming nothing but a collection of obsessions.
If Kurtz used this magic to achieve immortality, he would meet the same fate.
This wasn't the eternal life he desired. He wanted to live, not become some hollow mockery of existence.
He found himself envying elves like Serie, who possessed natural immortality without worrying about lifespan. The weight of mortality pressed down on him like a physical burden.
However, her immortality came at the cost of emotions, a trade-off that made Kurtz hesitant.
It was the ancient dilemma: when an immortal person experiences countless years and loses all emotions, is such an existence truly worth it?
The question might be as subjective as whether to add sugar to scrambled eggs with tomatoes.
Everyone had different answers.
Crack!
A branch snapped underfoot. Kurtz quickly reined in his thoughts and turned, his hand instinctively moving to dispel the detection magic, erasing any trace of his experiment.
The elf emerged from the shadows, moonlight catching her silver hair like spun starlight.
"What's wrong? Can't sleep?" Kurtz asked, forcing casualness into his voice. His heart hammered against his ribs, but he kept his expression neutral.
"What are you doing?"
Serie had originally intended to send Kurtz to rest, reasoning that a few additional warning spells would suffice. As long as they didn't encounter demons capable of masking their aura, there shouldn't be problems.
But when she returned from her own patrol, Kurtz wasn't by the campfire.
After a brief magical detection, she found him here, alone and lost in thought. Something about his posture struck her as oddly vulnerable.
"Just bored. Came to train my magic power."
Kurtz offered the irrefutable excuse. Serie found it strange but didn't press further. His mana felt slightly different somehow, though she couldn't identify exactly what had changed.
Serie moved beside him. The moonlight cast across her face created an indescribable, sacred quality, making Kurtz instinctively look twice. In moments like this, it was easy to forget how ancient and powerful she truly was.
She gazed up at the starry sky, remembering their previous argument about the stars. "Do you humans all like to space out at night? I always see you like this."
"Maybe I'm an exception," Kurtz replied. The irony wasn't lost on him; if only she knew how much of an exception he truly was.
He smiled and condensed an ice crystal rose with a wave of his hand. Roses inherently carried special meanings, but here he simply found it beautiful, harbouring no other intentions. Each petal formed with delicate precision, rendered perfectly in crystalline ice.
Seeing the unfamiliar flower, Serie reached out and accepted it. "It's very beautiful."
The ice felt cold against her palm, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Is that so? In my homeland, this has special meaning."
"What meaning?" Serie tilted her head, studying the ice crystal rose. Curiosity flickered in her ancient eyes.
"A certain unchanging, eternal emotion."
Kurtz didn't state it explicitly. After all, people who discussed love with elves generally didn't fare well; he had no desire for his name to become an epochal cautionary tale.
"Eternal?" Serie chuckled softly. "Look."
Magic appeared in her hand. The ice rose gradually melted in her grasp, water droplets slipping through her fingers like tears. The beautiful creation became nothing more than moisture disappearing into the earth.
"Just as ice turns to water, there is nothing eternal in this world."
Serie meant that neither humans nor elves could exist forever. Even elves with nearly infinite lifespans died for various reasons. In the Elf Forest, very few remained from before the mythical era.
But her actions struck Kurtz differently, as a merciless statement about his own fleeting life. The symbolism cut deeper than she could have intended.
A rare emotion welled up in his heart: part anger, part desperate sadness, part bitter irony that she would unknowingly crush his hopes while standing so close.
Kurtz took time to suppress the feeling before speaking in a teasing tone. "Serie, your words are quite hurtful. I'm a little sad."
The complaint was somewhat corny, but only by adopting this lighthearted mask could he prevent the emotion from bleeding into his voice.
Upon hearing this, Serie's face became flustered. Her eyes widened slightly as she realised she might have said something wrong.
She hadn't meant it that way. She hoped to spend more time with Kurtz, learning more magic from him.
But it seemed he'd misunderstood?
Her brow creased in a frown. "Sorry?" she asked tentatively.
"Why is it a question? And where I come from, an apology requires showing..."
Kurtz closed his mouth, catching himself before the words fully escaped.
If he completed that sentence and Serie took it seriously, the consequences would be disastrous.
"What should an apology do?"
Serie looked at him, puzzled. She rarely apologised to anyone and didn't know the proper protocol. The concept seemed almost foreign to someone who had lived for millennia.
"Nothing."
The moment passed, tension dissolving into something warmer.
Kurtz smiled and stepped forward, rubbing the elf's head until her hair was thoroughly mussed. Her silver strands caught between his fingers, impossibly soft.
"Don't touch my head! You mere..." Serie grumbled, though she showed no sign of resistance until Kurtz withdrew his hand.
Her protest lacked genuine heat, more habit than real annoyance.
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