Chapter 19: The Secret of the Elves' Longevity: The Devil Outside the Village
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Compared to Frieren and the other elves in the village, Ash's boundless enthusiasm made Frieren begin to wonder if most humans died before reaching the age of 100 due to sheer overwork.
Yet now, despite recognizing the problem, Ash gave her no chance to regret teaching him.
She wasn't the only one grumbling, though. Ash also wore a dark expression. "It's just barely getting dark, and you're telling me you want to rest?"
"...Let's go find Millie. She's probably still drinking tonight. She should have time," Frieren suggested.
"No, absolutely not!" he immediately shot down the idea, causing Frieren to throw off the quilt and glare at him in annoyance. "Why? Hasn't she traveled abroad before? She must know a lot of magic, right?"
"...Yes, but for some reason, she's particularly obsessed with growing wheat. She even has magic that makes it sprout faster after planting. She insisted I learn that spell before teaching me anything else. She wouldn't budge, even after I drank her treasured wine."
"That's because wheat can be used to make wine. She probably fixates on it for that reason... By the way, you're ruthless." Frieren couldn't help but admire him, even if she was dumbfounded. "I remember hearing it was wine from 600 years ago? She cherished it deeply, didn't she? And you just drank it without a second thought."
"Even so, it tasted awful."
"...It's a miracle she didn't fight you over it. Why are you still complaining about the taste? Just be quiet. For now, I'll teach you the secret of our elven longevity."
As she spoke, Frieren lay back down and pulled the quilt over herself again, turning her back on him. "Just relax a bit. If you keep this up, you won't live for hundreds of years."
"...Normal humans can't live that long," Ash muttered as he tugged at her blanket, trying to uncover it. But Frieren clung to the quilt stubbornly, refusing to let go.
"That's not necessarily true. Humans are always in such a hurry, and that's why they rarely live past a hundred."
"What nonsense. You're just wasting your life like this."
"How will you know your limits if you never try?" Frieren retorted, as if she sincerely hoped he'd experiment with his life for a hundred years. The thought made Ash break into a nervous sweat.
"Don't you think it's a bit tragic to gamble with your life?"
"But isn't it more pitiful to live in ignorance?"
"I don't think so!"
"It's just a hundred years. What's the big deal?"
"...We're getting off topic. Stop wasting your life already."
"You should let go of this argument, too, right?"
...
That night, Ash and Frieren argued and wrestled over the blanket, and the final result was...
The next day, Frieren still hadn't woken up by noon, and at some point, she had rolled onto the floor, tangled up in the quilt.
Meanwhile, Ash had taken over her bed, resting his head on her pillow, sleeping soundly—though without any covers.
Millie, curious about why the village was so quiet that day, came over to investigate. But when she opened the door and saw the scene before her—Ash sleeping soundly in Frieren's bed while Frieren lay tangled in the blanket on the floor—her expression turned odd. However, sticking to her philosophy of avoiding unnecessary trouble, Millie, not wanting to get involved in whatever chaotic relationship was brewing between the two, quietly closed the door as if nothing had happened.
...
Although life in the village was typically dull, there were occasional small disruptions.
At least for the elves, Ash had managed to stir up quite a bit of commotion in their previously peaceful existence.
Almost every elf, when they had the time, would be pulled into discussions about magic by him.
Occasionally, Ash could be found lying under a tree in the village, quietly reading, studying, and practicing the magic he had learned from Serie.
After their daily magic training, Millie and Frieren often sat nearby, leisurely observing the "human" who had been in the village for nearly two years without them even noticing the passage of time.
"Millie, look at him," Frieren remarked. "He's so busy every day. Feels like he won't make it past a hundred years."
"What are you talking about, Frieren? Humans usually die in the blink of an eye, don't they?"
"Seeing such a busy human, does it make lazy, dazed Millie feel anything at all?"
"...Are you touched?" Millie, wine glass still in hand, lowered her head to think for a moment. Then she turned to her friend. "Frieren has been calling me 'Millie' a lot lately. You used to call me 'Millie Alde,' didn't you?"
"Is that so?" Frieren's surprised expression slipped out unconsciously.
Millie smiled and nodded, her gaze now fixed on Ash with renewed interest. "He's quite an interesting human... they're really rare."
"...Don't take it too seriously. Humans can die so easily."
"That's true."
Millie nodded in agreement and didn't dwell on Ash's situation any longer. Instead, she continued sipping her wine, chatting with Frieren as usual.
But that night, while everyone else in the village was sound asleep, Ash remained in the stone house, tirelessly practicing magic without pause.
As dark clouds slowly covered the moon, a deep, quiet darkness descended upon the once peaceful elf village. For some unknown reason, the night seemed unnaturally still. Even the usual sounds of birds and animals had vanished, leaving a silence so profound it was almost eerie.
In the stillness, the candlelight flickered faintly, casting long shadows that made the atmosphere feel unusually tense and cold.
And amid this dead quiet, the lush forest at the edge of the village became the stage for something strange.
Mottled moonlight filtered through the treetops, illuminating a group of mysterious figures draped in long robes. They moved like specters in the night, their bodies concealed beneath robes of various colors. Their heads were clearly not human, most of them adorned with horns, much like the demons of legend.