Frieren: Understand Humans, Aura!

What was Aura talking about?

Why did she come all the way to save Aura, but was regarded as cruel in her mouth?

"Flamme's talent is truly enviable," Aura said despondently.

"Indeed."

Serie nodded. If Flamme had not already learned systematic magical knowledge from Aura, she would have definitely kidnapped that human and made her her student.

With Flamme's talent, she could probably advance the current magic by three hundred years.

"Her master is truly disgusting," Aura's tone suddenly turned somber.

"Hm, why do you say that?"

"Think it yourself."

"Indeed, it really disgusting."

Although Serie didn't quite understand, it was probably an unknown tradition among the demons to insult themselves for no reason and be disgusted.

Serie chose to respect it.

The wind whispered as Serie appeared to increase her mana output, and the surrounding environment was like a kaleidoscope with overlapping afterimages.

Aura leaned heavily against Serie's back, struggling to stay conscious. The wind brushed against her nose and mouth, harshly taking away the air she desperately needed and causing her to feel suffocated.

It took a while before Serie noticed Aura's weakened vital signs, the slight tremor in her breathing alerting her to the distress. Realizing the issue, Serie quickly applied an additional wind-blocking spell, creating a protective barrier around Aura. The barrier shielded her from the harsh wind, providing a pocket of calm air around her.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Aura demanded, her voice hoarse from the strain.

"Don't worry, not now."

"??!"

"I've said before, you're a unique experimental subject. You need to be thoroughly utilized before being disposed of."

"You might as well kill me now!"

Serie chuckled lightly. It was precisely Aura's reactions that made this demon so interesting to her.

She exhibits both the fear typical of humans and the indifference common to demons. Occasionally, she even cries and begs for mercy. Although a bit unruly, Aura does bring a lot of amusement to Serie.

Aura, oblivious to being observed as if she were a toy, recalled her earlier breathlessness and asked anxiously:

"Hey, Serie, am I dying?"

With a demon's body, a mere airflow shouldn't disrupt normal breathing, yet Aura had just felt weak to the point of suffocation in the wind.

"Yes," Serie answered. It wasn't a lie; she could sense the irreparable crack in Aura's soul. That rift would slowly expand until it completely split Aura's soul in two.

Soul death is inescapable, even for the immortal.

"How long?"

"Soon."

"A hundred years?"

"Five thousand years."

"....."

Aura fell silent and breathed a sigh of relief. She had thought that she would die in fifty years.

Five thousand years is too long. She was only a five-hundred-year-old demon. Another five thousand years, and she might die from something else even if her soul's wound didn't kill her.

Serie said sadly, "You can only live for five thousand years. I thought you could accompany me until the end of magic."

"Five thousand years is not short."

"It will pass in the blink of an eye."

"You're exaggerating."

"Yes, a little bit."

Serie nodded. Even for her, five thousand years was a considerable amount of time.

Five thousand years ago, the Goddess was still present, and numerous mythical creatures roamed the land. Five thousand years later, the Goddess had disappeared, her divine presence a distant memory, and the relics of the mythological era had all but vanished. The magical creatures were long gone, their existence now confined to ancient tales and forgotten ruins, leaving only her, a single elf, still active in the world.

If Aura could live for five thousand years, she would become a being surpassing the Demon King, a living monument of history.

It was uncertain whether a demon who lived for five thousand years would resist death. After all, they were beings without emotions. Living for so long, they might lose themselves in the meaning of life.

Serie had seen many such beings. They all ended up committing suicide or sealing themselves away, unable to bear the weight of their prolonged existence. They became shadows of their former selves, consumed by the void within, except for her, who had found an endless purpose in magic. Her pursuit of magical knowledge gave her a reason to continue, a way to navigate the endless years without losing herself.

The landscape changed repeatedly, shifting from lush forests to barren wastelands and bustling cities. Under Serie's incomprehensible wind magic, in less than a day, she and Aura covered at least half a month's journey by horse and carriage. The wind magic not only propelled them forward with incredible speed but also shielded them from the elements, creating a bubble of calm amid the turbulence.

Kribi lay ahead. The sight of its towering walls and bustling streets was a welcome change from the desolate landscapes they had traversed. As they approached, the city's wards and barriers shimmered faintly, a testament to the powerful mages who protected it.

Serie lifted the spell and set Aura down. By then, Aura had the strength to stand. She could even cast spells if she pushed herself.

Serie was not wary of her and walked ahead, entering the city first, not caring whether Aura followed or not.

Aura stood at Kribi's city gate, gazing out over the vast wasteland.

It was sunrise at this moment. The morning sun hung on the horizon like a roulette wheel, as if breaking free from the constraints of the earth and growing upwards freely and vigorously. The sky was painted with hues of orange and pink, the light scattering through the remnants of the night mist.

That was the freedom Aura had once longed for. The ability to soar without chains, to live without commands restricting her every move. But that freedom seemed more distant now than ever.

'If I use magic to escape right now, will Serie be able to catch up with me?'

'Will she chase after me?'

Aura was too exhausted to think, tormented by pain and fatigue. The very place where the Continental Magic Association was established, Kribi, had become her only safe haven.

"By the way, Zanze has kept the president's position open for you," Serie suddenly said.

Leaning against the city gate, her golden hair shining in the sunlight, Serie saw Aura standing still and didn't urge her.

"Zanze said she isn't confident she can do as well as you, Aura, so she only took the acting president's position from me. If you come back, Zanze is still willing to be your assistant."

"Serie, do you really think..." Aura paused for a long time, "that I'm a competent president of the Continental Magic Association?"

"It's not me who thinks so; it's what those humans think."

"Then forget it."

"Hmm?"

"I won't let those disgusting humans get their wish."

"Okay."

"Let Zanze be president. If she really doesn't want to, then Flamme will do."

"Flamme? Are you sure?"

"As long as I don't meet her again, you can do whatever you want with Flamme."

"I had this idea originally, but Flamme refused, saying she was looking for someone."

"She'll never find them."

"Is that so."

Serie responded then turned around and asked after a while:

"So, Aura, what kind of job do you want?"

"Can I have no job...? Never mind, I'll be a librarian."

Aura originally wanted to ask for a position that did not involve any work, but when Serie looked at her as if she was useless and should be put in a jar as experimental material, she backed down.

Aura had some experience as a librarian and was familiar with the job.

As long as she slack off quietly, no one should notice.

Aura took one last lingering look at the endless desert in the distance, her eyes tracing the horizon. It was a silent farewell to the freedom she once craved so deeply, a dream that now seemed distant and unattainable.

With a bitter smile under the morning sun, she finally turned and walked into the city of Kribi. The rising sun cast long shadows, and as she stepped forward, the city's walls loomed larger, engulfing her in their shadow.

Aura understood that she would probably never be able to kill Frieren in her lifetime.

So—

Aura was tired. The battles, the pain, the constant running—it had all worn her down. The prospect of rest, even if it meant captivity, was alluring.

She didn't want to run anymore.

Even if she was locked in a cage, she would be willing to wear a collar as long as she could survive.

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I'm gonna absent for one day... Adios