Chapter 82: Inferno Flames

  In this dark night, I walk alone, love and hate have left me far away. My life was lost when I saw Freya's grave, now I'm just an empty shell. What I loved, what I longed for, what I hated, what I worried about, all gone. Without love, where is the hatred? This war took my beloved, but I couldn't stop it. All I can do is pour my anger on specific people.

  My enemies, those who killed Freya with their own hands and made the beautiful flower of life wither, are camping on a nearby hillside. I will go to destroy them, not for Freya, because I know that no matter what I do, I can never bring back Freya's life as beautiful as a flower, nor can I make her smile again. I am doing this so that I have a place to pour out my sorrow and anger, if I don't, I will die of grief.

  Spirits have a long life, but when disaster strikes, they also perish. What's the point of that?

  I no longer harbor hatred towards those enemies, I'm just doing what I think should be done. Every magician knows that when the sound is loud to the extreme, you can't hear the sound anymore. At this moment, I also know that when grief reaches a certain degree, you won't feel any grief either. My heart has long died with Freya's death, and at this moment, I don't care whether that heart is still beating or not. I'm filled with indifference towards possible death, and for me, death might be a kind of liberation.

  I arrived at the camp of the dark elves, silently gazing at that sleeping place, a somber and silent expanse, except for the night watch soldiers, everyone else was asleep in their dreams.

  "The Staff of the Gods" in my hand emits a bewitching red glow, like a rose blooming gorgeously in this dark night. Furei, did you see it? I will offer this most beautiful flower to you in heaven, and let this flower of death bloom furiously between heaven and earth!

  The magical elements between heaven and earth sensed my anger and sorrow, all the elemental spirits went crazy, they seemed to be attracted, like a tidal wave, rushing towards me, and I became a small boat on the crest of the wave. I guided the magical elements into fierce flames, which danced in the air, roaring, shouting, jumping... Finally, they turned into fire spirits, raging towards that dark camp, the fire spirits swirled around the camp, igniting everything that could be ignited, devouring all life that could be devoured.

  Those who thought themselves superior, disdainful of everything, are now crying and screaming in the same humble manner, ultimately being burned into flying ash by my flames.

  The radiance of the "Staff of the Gods" gradually weakened and eventually disappeared, the effects of magic slowly faded away. The flames were still raging in the camp, but that was no longer related to my magic. More than 5,000 dark elves, a camp spanning ten miles, were all deeply engulfed in the sea of fire at this moment. I didn't know who among them was the murderer who killed Freya. Then let these people come and bury themselves for Freya's death, I don't care.

  When the magical power disappeared, I realized that when the surging magical elements were activated, they took away all the strength in my body. Using my meager power to guide the ocean of elements was enough to drain all my strength, and the consequences were severe enough to take my life.

  I barely put away the magic wand and fell to the ground, now I feel extremely difficult even moving a finger. I lay quietly, admiring the sea of flames, the entire sky was dyed red by this huge fire I created, what a beautiful scene! The Grim Reaper must be happy swinging his scythe, harvesting every life with abandon. If I could see him, I would ask if the lives I offered were enough for him to return Freya to me?

  The thicket of trees in front of me shook, and a dark elf who had been burned all over by the big fire, with tattered clothes, appeared before my eyes.

  He held a slender sword in his hand, and when he saw me, he was stunned for a moment, cautiously raising the sword towards me. After a long time, he found that I couldn't move at all, and only then did he relax. He asked in Elvish: "Who are you? Human, is our campfire related to you?"

  I smiled at him with great effort and asked weakly: "Are... they all dead?"

  That dark elf was stunned for a moment, nodded and said: "Yes, it seems that only I escaped."

  I smiled again and said: "That's good, I have no regrets now."

  "That dark elf suddenly became enraged and said: 'Is it really you? Why did you do this?'"

  I gazed calmly at him, then shifted my gaze to the still-burning camp: "When you raided the village and slaughtered the defenseless spirits, killing Frey, did you ever ask yourselves why you were taking lives?"

  The dark elf was stunned again and said: "This is war."

  I nodded slowly and said, "You're right, this is war."

  The dark elf in front of me obviously felt that I had fooled him. Without saying a word, he raised his slender sword and stabbed it at me.

  My heart is calm, there's nothing to fear. Perhaps after my life ends, I'll be able to see Freya again? Will she blame me for not rushing back to her side in time? Will she still deeply love a human like when she was alive?

  I saw the cold light of the sword tip flying towards me, I closed my eyes and shouted in my heart: "Furei, wait for me... I'm coming to accompany you..."

  I didn't feel any pain, but a surge of hot blood splattered all over me. The salty and fishy smell made me feel very uncomfortable. Just uncomfortable, and then I heard a dull thud as something hit the ground.

  I opened my eyes to find the dark elf staring at me with wide, disbelieving eyes, convulsing on the ground. His neck had been slashed open by a sharp blade, and blood was gushing out of the massive wound, forming a red stream on the ground. Finally, his eyes lost their luster and turned gray, but his body still twitched occasionally on the ground, reminding me of the fish I had gutted, which still squirmed in the bucket.

  I still can't move, nor can I see what exactly happened. All I can do is stare at the dead dark elf, staring at his dead fish-like eyes, staring at the huge wound on his neck, with blood drained out, revealing ugly muscles bulging outward.

  Evan's face appeared in front of me, looked me up and down, and asked: "Can you move?"

  I smiled at him helplessly. He obviously noticed my situation, sighed helplessly and muttered to himself: "Alas, saving your life is not enough, now I have to be a laborer too, is my life so bitter? You'd better remember, you owe me another life..."

  He sighed and carried me on his shoulder, walking down the mountain...