Chapter 206: Arrangements and Refusal

Chapter 206: Arrangements and Refusal

In recent decades, the activities of the demon race have become increasingly frequent.

Starting from Eord, a northern kingdom, it has been observed that the upper limit for the new generation of demons has risen from General to Great Demon. Even more alarmingly, a Great Demon from the remnants of the old era, the End Saint Todd, has appeared.

After learning from the new generation of demons that the Demon King is still alive, the capital city has reinstated the program to welcome heroes and provide them with initial funding. In no time, countless hero squads have reformed, and the profession of adventurer has once again become active.

It seems that, no matter the era, fighters are always indispensable.

...

Even with all the prerequisites in place, the research progress on the Past Sight technique has been exceptionally slow.

Based on the current pace, Luk estimates it will take at least seventy to eighty years.

This timing is quite delicate, as the Future Sight technique is expected to fail around that time, indicating a significant event is about to occur.

"Maybe I'll be dead by then."

He considered the worst-case scenario, as a dead person naturally has no future.

In the room, the exhausted Fyllian buried her head in her magic textbook, her eyes barely able to stay open. Her nocturnal schedule had left the usually lazy elf a bit disoriented.

"This reminds me of when we were researching flight magic."

"The difficulty of flight magic isn't this high."

He glanced at his weary teacher, "You've been working hard these past few days. Go back and rest."

"No, the current project is almost complete. If we can figure out the prediction method of Future Sight and reverse it, we'll have the foundational theory for Past Sight. Even if it's far from complete, it will give us hope."

Fyllian yawned, struggling to keep her eyes open as she read the annotations in the Future Sight manual. Despite her efforts, her eyelids drooped, and she eventually curled up on the table, falling asleep.

Once her breathing steadied, Luk glanced at the door and spoke softly, "Come in."

The door opened slowly and quietly, and the tall, handsome young hero, Simmel, tiptoed in, nodding respectfully at Luk.

"Good evening, Mr. Luk."

His voice was light and gentle, as if he were afraid of disturbing the sleeping elf.

"You don't need to be so careful. Fyllian won't wake up unless there's a major disturbance after she falls asleep."

"I know."

Despite his words, Simmel gently covered Fyllian with a blanket, his eyes filled with admiration. After a moment, he turned to Luk, his expression serious.

"Mr. Luk, there's something I want to discuss with you."

Luk put down his magic textbook and neatly placed it back, then stood up smoothly. "Make it quick."

The two walked to a corner of the courtyard, where Luk sat on a bench, enjoying the moonlight he hadn't seen in about a decade. This moment allowed him to relax his tense nerves.

"Mr. Luk, don't you find it tiring to spend all day in the study researching magic?"

Simmel asked with concern.

Since childhood, he had often seen Luk and Fyllian spending their days in the study.

"It's not too bad. Having something to do is a form of enjoyment."

Now, more than in his youth, he enjoyed reading because knowledge is eternal.

Kingdoms may fall, families may decline, and seas may turn into fields, but the knowledge in one's mind remains forever.

Luk answered calmly, "You didn't call me out here just to check on my health, did you?"

Simmel hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest.

"Mr. Luk, I want to invite Fyllian to join my hero squad."

After hearing Simmel's words, Luk nodded, "I understand. Is there anything else?"

"You're not opposed?"

Simmel was a bit surprised and at a loss.

Although Luk and Fyllian were purely in a teacher-student relationship, they were both elves and spent a lot of time together, which initially made him think they were lovers, causing him much heartache.

Later, he learned there was nothing between them, and he came to regard Luk as Fyllian's guardian, respecting him greatly.

"You've shown exceptional combat talent since childhood, and your strength is now formidable. Heta, the monk, is also a saint-like figure with remarkable support abilities. I'm very confident that you two can protect Fyllian."

Simmel smiled and nodded, "Thank you for your trust. I will take good care of Fyllian."

"You want to take care of her for the rest of your human life, don't you?"

Simmel's smile froze, his face turning red as he struggled to find a response.

"How... How did you know? I thought elves, like Fyllian, were oblivious to emotions."

"Elves are not demons. Elves can cry, laugh, argue, and have likes and dislikes. They just don't experience emotions as intensely as humans."

Luk stroked the small bottle at his chest, "I'm a bit more special."

Simmel slowly recovered from her surprise and then asked with a bit of trepidation.

"What do you think about my feelings for you?"

"Back then, I would have been more than happy to encourage you."

Luke lowered his eyes to the hazy moonlight. "But now... you should do what you think is right."

He didn't plan to deny the time he spent with Trella, but the issue of the vastly different lifespans between elves and humans was indeed an unsolvable problem. So, the choice was ultimately up to the individual.

However, from his perspective, this incarnation of Simmel would likely follow the original path.

Her gentle nature would make Simmel more considerate of others' feelings. To avoid causing Frieren sadness after his death, she would probably continue to watch him silently without making her feelings known.

Love that cannot be consummated only brings sorrow.

Simmel must have thought about this too, as a hint of disappointment appeared on her youthful face.

Seeing Simmel, who was still mostly a child, looking this way, Luke pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers.

In the sky, countless dazzling meteors with blue tails appeared. The meteors fell like silver ribbons, painting the dark canvas with streaks of bright silver.

"Beautiful."

Simmel's gaze was drawn to the meteors. "Mr. Luke, is this your magic?"

"Yes, a spell to create a meteor shower."

Luke watched the seemingly endless meteor shower in the sky. "It's essentially an optical illusion, just a mirage, not a powerful spell."

Simmel shook her head in disagreement, her tone unusually serious. "I can't detect any falseness. You must have put a lot of thought into this spell. I think it's amazing."

Her words made Luke pause, and he chuckled softly, reaching out to ruffle Simmel's hair.

"I was trying to comfort you, but it seems you've comforted me instead."

"Simmel, you will become a great hero."

At this, Simmel no longer hid her confidence and nodded.

"I think so too."

...

Time passed, and the day for the hero team's departure was quickly approaching.

The gifted hero swordsman and the young, promising holy monk officially invited Frieren to join their team as the magic user.

On the morning the team was to leave Barum, Luke came to Frieren's room to help her pack, ensuring the forgetful elf wouldn't have any trouble on her journey.

"Are you sure it's okay?"

Frieren, happy to have a break, propped her head up and asked Luke.

"If I leave, will the magic research progress stall?"

"No, the basic principles are mostly figured out. Your absence will only delay things a bit, and it's only for ten years."

Luke answered while stuffing the inventory of magic books into Frieren's suitcase to keep her occupied during the journey, along with some essential daily items.

"How do you know it's ten years... oh, future sight."

Frieren tapped her chin thoughtfully, marveling at how useful the spell was.

Flipping through the suitcase, Luke saw the empty money bag and sighed.

Despite receiving a large fortune from the research on flight magic, Frieren had quickly spent it all on magic, magic devices, and various oddities.

After filling the money bag with a pile of gold coins, Luke expressionlessly took out a vial of potion that could melt clothes.

"Who told you to bring this?"

"Master said that giving this to men would make them very happy. I plan to give it to my teammates on their birthdays." Frieren swung her legs on the bed, answering casually.

"Trella said she used it when pursuing you, and it worked well."

Luke froze for a moment, then nonchalantly took the potion back.

"You're not allowed to bring this. You're still too young."

"You're younger than my age is to the number of my fingers, Luke."

Luke skipped over the topic and continued his instructions. "When in a team, you need to be considerate of others. Don't oversleep, and try to be reliable."

Frieren blinked. "Am I not reliable?"

"From a magical standpoint, you are usually reliable, but you always rush to treasure chests."

Luke sighed. "I gave you a magic book to identify treasure chests. Why do you keep getting eaten by chest monsters?"

"Magic has a margin of error. The spell is only 99% accurate. Great magic users are geniuses who dare to strive for that 1%."

Frieren was not ashamed of being eaten by chest monsters; she was proud of it.

"Should we ignore the 1% chance of success just because of a 99% failure rate?"

Luke: "..."

If someone designed a role-playing game with only critical successes and failures, probably only masochists would play it.

"Well, have a safe journey."

After much hesitation, seeing the impatient look on the driver's face and the waves from Simele and Hetta, Luk lifted the person and the trunk onto the carriage.

"Frylin is in your hands now."

Luk nodded at the two.

Simele replied earnestly, "Please rest assured, I will ensure Frylin's safe return."

At that moment, Frylin seemed to remember something and poked her head out of the window.

"Oh, right, there's something I forgot to tell you. About the investigation I did earlier..."

The driver, who had been waiting for a long time, cracked his whip as soon as everyone was on board. The startled horses immediately started running, cutting off Frylin's words mid-sentence.

Luk squinted at the carriage, which was gradually becoming smaller, then turned back to start packing his things.

The research progress would indeed be delayed with Frylin's departure, but he had no intention of wasting time. Instead, he planned to find a more knowledgeable and skilled helper.

Frylin's great-grandmaster, the teacher of Flamer, the originator of human magic, the ancient elf Selia.

That being should have already emerged and established a new magic association by this time, but due to the butterfly effect he caused, the new magic association had already formed spontaneously.

However, it didn't matter. With his foresight, finding someone was no challenge.

But just as he was about to set out, an unexpected visitor interrupted his journey.

A determined gaze, two elegant mustaches, and a physique that exuded strength—this figure, widely celebrated in newspapers and oral traditions, stood in Luk's path.

The Hero of the South!

This powerful warrior, who in another timeline had single-handedly fought against the Seven Fallen Sages and Shurahart, killing three of them and dying alongside Shurahart, now stood before Luk.

"Father of Classical Magic, the great mage who invented numerous spells, it has been a long time."

"The Hero of the South, the great hero who ended the wars of the nations, I have heard of your name."

Luk looked at him calmly. "You don't seem to be in good shape?"

The Hero of the South's face was dark, his body enveloped in a black aura. Large drops of sweat fell from his forehead, and a tangible curse seemed to be eroding his body.

"This is the curse of the Demon Clan's Final Saint, Tod."

The Hero of the South's voice was somewhat distant, as if he was enduring immense pain.

"She spent centuries casting an invisible curse on this planet. To prevent it from being triggered later, I killed her and absorbed all the curses into myself."

The Demon Clan's magic was nearly miraculous, and sheer strength alone couldn't break it. Without a specific solution, victory was hard to achieve.

Luk listened solemnly. "You should go to the sanctuary and seek the best monks to help purify the curse."

"It's no use."

The Hero of the South shook his head. "I've already been there, but the centuries-old curse is too potent. Even the archbishop was powerless."

"So why are you here? I only know basic healing magic, which isn't even as good as a regular monk's."

The Hero of the South's face twitched into a smile. "I didn't come for healing, but for liberation."

"Do you want me to kill you?"

Luk frowned; this reason didn't seem sufficient. The Hero of the South could have found someone else.

"Besides that, I also want to talk to you."

Although he didn't know what the Hero of the South wanted to say, out of respect for his great deeds, Luk gestured for him to speak freely.

The Hero of the South managed a weak smile. "You might not believe me, but I've always admired you since I was a child. I dreamed of becoming a mage, flying freely in the sky."

"But one day, the war broke out. The wars between nations continued endlessly, and I saw countless corpses and rivers of blood. Then, I started seeing further and further."

"I saw a hero who brought peace to the world. He turned around, and I realized he looked exactly like me. So I followed his path, overcoming difficulties, and completed the scene I once saw."

Luk was growing impatient. "Please get to the point."

The Hero of the South's face, contorted by the curse, showed a bitter smile.

"Mr. Luk, I'm saying all this to suggest that sometimes following fate isn't a bad thing. What do you think?"

Luk mulled over the word "fate" as his sandalwood wand appeared in his hand.

With the Hero of the South's long sigh, the great hero, tormented by the curse, found liberation in the attack magic.

"I refuse."

Happy National Day.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end