Chapter 315: One Hundred Years of Solitude

Many years later, as the sunlight fell upon the windowsill of the grayish-white stone tower, Altina Tidebreeze Ilutaviel would recall that distant morning when she first arrived in the human kingdoms, her heart brimming with hope.

...

The early morning sun filtered through the gaps in the curtains, softly carpeting the wooden floor of the room.

Altina slowly opened her eyes, a hint of morning grogginess still lingering in her emerald gaze.

She rose from the bed, washed up methodically, and dressed neatly.

Finally, her gaze fell upon the wooden cabinet beside the washbasin, where an amulet was carefully placed.

It was a crescent moon pendant crafted from mithril, small and exquisite, its surface engraved with intricate and fine magic runes.

As her fingertips lightly touched it, the pendant emitted a soft glow, and a wave of warm power slowly enveloped her.

Altina closed her eyes, gently kissed the cool pendant, and whispered a prayer:

“I am going to meet that special gentleman today. Please let me achieve my wish, and bless me with success...”

She walked along the streets of the Royal Capital, Saint Milton.

Altina subconsciously avoided crowded areas. From beneath her hood, her gaze drifted past the clergy passing by on the sidewalk and landed on the lively celebration parade in the center of the street.

The young Novalon Empire was once again expanding its borders. In the cages on the street, the army had brought back countless barbarian and demihuman slaves. The citizens gathered on both sides, watching with curiosity and cheering occasionally. The entire city was fluttering with celebratory flags.

Altina noticed that even the walls along the street were plastered with brand-new promotional posters, with bold letters reading:

GO TO THE NORTH! EXPAND NEW LANDS!

The streets and alleys of the Royal Capital were sparing no effort to promote the new city rising in the North—Norvigel—recruiting citizens to reclaim the wilderness and settle on the borders, highlighting generous rewards like full tax exemptions.

“Norvigel...” Altina murmured softly, her pace steady.

A touch of emotion stirred in her heart. Perhaps before long, that new city would become the most prosperous metropolis in the North.

After all, in the centuries she had witnessed, the speed of human development was truly astonishing.

A long time later, she finally arrived before a secluded manor house on the outskirts of the city.

Altina stopped, removed her hood, and revealed her emerald eyes and iconic pointed elven ears.

The person she was meeting today was the magic master she had corresponded with for years—Albert Fein.

This legendary magic theorist and top magitech scholar was perhaps the most prestigious figure in the entire magic world since the Third Era.

Countless legends about him circulated: it was said he could cast Mage's Hand at the age of eight, killed over twenty bandits with Fireball at ten, rose to fame in the field of magitech by twenty, and reached the pinnacle of the magic world by thirty, becoming a recognized master.

Now over fifty years old, he had set aside all worldly honors and spent over twenty years in dedicated research, attempting to solve the 'magic pollution problem' that had plagued the magic world for a millennium.

Countless people believed that he would be the leader who first conquered the challenge of magic pollution in this era.

After all, with a talent as heavenly as Master Albert’s, if even he couldn't solve it, who else could?

Over the past few years, the two had maintained a steady correspondence. This learned scholar, forever possessed of a vigorous curiosity, had a deep desire to investigate the whereabouts and inheritance of the elven race after the Cataclysm of the Second Era, while Altina had her own obsessions and requests.

She always hoped that this master, standing at the peak of the magic world, could help her find a way to cure the mana plague in her hometown, allowing her to complete the most important mission of her life:

Save her homeland and save the elven race on the brink of extinction.

But as she stood before the manor gates, she suddenly realized...

The atmosphere here was not right.

The carved gates were slightly ajar. Looking up through the fence, even though it was a clear day with a bright sky, the silhouette of the manor held a chilling feel. The surroundings were too quiet—unnervingly quiet.

Altina frowned sharply, her fingertips quietly touching the sword at her waist, her eyes scanning every corner of the manor with vigilance.

The wind had stopped.

The chirping of insects, the singing of birds, and even the distant clamor of the Royal Capital had all vanished without a trace, leaving only a deathly silence.

“Excuse me... is anyone there?”

She called out, her voice echoing in the empty space before the gate, but she received no response.

She knocked on the cold iron gate, yet there was still no answer.

Altina took a deep breath and pushed the iron gate open with force.

Creak—

The long-neglected hinges let out a sharp, ear-piercing screech that made one's scalp tingle. She stepped inside, bypassing the garden in front of the door, as an eerie sense of wrongness quietly spread.

Altina glanced at her feet. The roses in the garden bloomed with an unnatural beauty, their petals as dark as clotted blood, vibrantly unsettling. A faint, lingering scent of rot wafted through the air, intertwined with the sweet fragrance of the roses, making it repulsive.

She continued forward and pushed open the doors of the residence.

The long corridor was deep and dim, with only a few thin rays of sunlight leaking through the window at the far end.

In the vast space, she could only hear her own footsteps, one after another...

Rounding a corner, her steps suddenly froze.

The butler's corpse was slumped in the corner. Every drop of blood seemed to have been drained from his body; his skin and flesh clung parched to his bones. His face was twisted and deformed, his pupils frozen in a terror that had not dissipated even in death.

“Master Albert?”

Altina's voice tightened slightly as she called out softly.

The sound echoed repeatedly in the long corridor, eventually fading into the dead silence.

Just then, from the last room at the end of the hall, a very slight sound came—like something wet and slippery dragging across the floor.

Altina gripped the slender sword at her waist and slowly moved toward that door.

The door was slightly ajar, leaving a narrow crack from which the smell of rot poured out.

She reached out and gently pushed the door open.

What hit her was a nauseating stench. Altina instantly held her breath. The scene before her eyes completely shattered all her expectations—

Rot.

As far as the eye could see, everything was a writhing mass of rot.

Large patches of wallpaper were peeling off, revealing scarlet, mold-like blood vessels spreading beneath, crawling along the walls like living things, eventually converging toward the alchemy table in the center of the room.

Behind the alchemy table sat a deformed creation that defied common sense. It was a monster fused from tumors, tentacles, and twisted human limbs. Its head was terrifyingly large, covered in deep cerebral grooves, like a pile of soft, rotten meat occupying most of the table's surface.

Furthermore, that massive head was densely embedded with countless eyeballs, resembling the compound eyes of an insect.

At this moment, those eyes were all staring intently at the experimental manuscripts spread out on the alchemy table. Several parched human arms held test tubes, meticulously performing some nonsensical magic experiment.

“Almost successful... It seems the key to the experiment is here... I’m truly almost successful...”

A sound that made one's scalp crawl came from its throat, like a broken bellows tearing through rotten meat, muttering repeatedly with obsessive madness.

“I failed... I failed...”

“No! I succeeded... I succeeded long ago...”

A bone-chilling cold instantly crawled over her entire body. Altina stumbled back a step, but the filthy magic fluctuations emanating from the monster tore at her mind like a tide. The scene before her began to twist, overlap, and descend into frenzy...

The moment she stepped back, the countless eyes on the monster all turned toward her.

“You...”

Just then.

The amulet around her neck suddenly glowed with a warm light. The soft power enveloped her consciousness, shielding her from the maddening mental shock.

Altina's eyes slowly cleared. The moment she regained her senses, she drew the ancient longbow from her back, and emerald nature magic condensed into a sharp arrow on the string.

Her gaze was fixed on the deformed creation, specifically on the remaining half of a human face that belonged to Albert...

The room fell into a deathly silence.

“Oh... you...”

The slimy voice spoke again, carrying an eerie familiarity. “You must be... my elven pen pal... Altina...”

“Good, I welcome you... welcome...”

“Do you... see?” In Albert's countless eyes flashed an obsessive madness. His tentacles waved excitedly, knocking over potion bottles on the table. “I succeeded, I truly succeeded... Magic is saved...!”

The filthy mana fluctuations surged instantly, nearly bursting through the entire room.

Altina gritted her teeth and gripped her longbow tightly.

Ten minutes later, she walked out of the manor with an expressionless face.

The iron gate behind her slowly closed under her hand, letting out a heavy, dull thud.

Returning to the noise and mundane life of the human world, Altina leaned against the cold wall of an alley, slowly squatting down and retching. An unspeakable pain and despair churned in her chest.

Another one...

And it was the one in whom she had placed her greatest hope.

...

Fifty years later, Benalu City.

Fifty years was half a lifetime of change for humans, but for the long-lived elves, it seemed like nothing more than a blink of an eye.

It was another clear morning.

Soft sunlight spilled onto the edge of the windowsill. Altina slowly opened her eyes.

She rose from the bed, washed up methodically, and dressed neatly.

Then, her gaze fell upon the amulet on the table, which had been wiped spotlessly clean.

Throughout countless years, she had repeated such mornings year after year, day after day. And today would be another day she set out to find new hope.

Only, a smile rarely appeared on her face anymore.

Nearly a hundred years of searching—long and agonizing—had been enough to grind all the vibrancy and expectation in Altina's eyes into a near-numb calm.

The deeper she went into the mist, the more she faced boundless despair. Hope was worn down bit by bit, until finally, only numbness and a near-pessimistic clarity remained.

But she still had to do it.

The elven race was waiting for her to save them.

On her shoulders, she carried all the expectations of her entire homeland.

Altina stepped out of her house and boarded a steam bus not far from her door. This novel form of transportation made a clattering sound and belched white steam as it moved forward. Even though she was long past being surprised by worldly matters, she couldn't help but observe it for a few moments.

Her trip today was to the center of Benalu City to visit a famous black magic group. This organization was at the forefront of the field of magic pollution. It was said that even the notorious Echoes of Truth would occasionally seek technical cooperation from them.

Looking at the prosperous streetscape receding rapidly outside the window, Altina felt a flicker of complex emotion.

Human development was too fast.

The last time she had come to Benalu City, it was just a small fishing village. Now, steam vehicles crisscrossed the streets, factories raised tall chimneys belching black smoke into the sky, and on the horizon, massive airships even sailed slowly by.

The prosperous industry, woven from magitech and steam, was pushing the world toward a new era at a staggering speed.

Her judgment of humans had never been wrong; they were indeed a race with infinite potential. Though they were wicked and dangerous, they also possessed a life force as vigorous and burning as the morning sun.

The bus reached her stop, and she was respectfully welcomed into an underground secret room by members of the magic organization.

Hope... she could achieve her wish this time.

Half an hour later.

Altina followed several heavily injured magic apprentices as they stumbled out of the basement, returning to the sun-drenched surface.

The magic apprentices scattered in flight, screaming hysterically with faces full of terror, unwilling to set foot in that horrifying place ever again.

She let out a soft sigh.

The sight she had seen this time was even more disgusting, more terrifying, and more indescribable than the scene in Albert’s manor fifty years ago.

But she was already completely accustomed to it, her face calm without a single ripple of emotion.

The sunlight was still bright and piercing. She walked all the way home with an expressionless face.

Closing the door and shutting out all the noise from the outside world, she stared at the face in the mirror that was still young and beautiful, but her eyes were already filled with an indelible exhaustion and weariness.

The despair accumulated over countless days and nights finally broke through the dam at this moment, causing her to collapse completely.

“Why me...”

“Why must it be me who has to bear all this?”

“It’s not fair!!”

She clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging deep into her palms.

Countless fragmented voices echoed madly in her mind.

“Enough! Stop talking!” she shrieked in pain, clutching her head.

But those voices wouldn't stop, ringing in her head over and over again.

“Altina, you must save our home...”

“We are all counting on you, Altina!”

“Altina, our home... our bodies have already begun to rot... hurry, be faster!”

“Save... save me! Sister, it hurts so much... it hurts so much...”

“Altina, for our sake, please give it your all!!”

Amidst these pleas and screams, Altina finally couldn't take it anymore.

She slid down the cold wall and sat on the floor, hugging her knees, weeping uncontrollably like a homeless child.

“That year... why didn't I die in my homeland, in that mana plague...”

She ripped the amulet from her neck and threw it aside with force.

“Why did I have to be the one to survive...”

She didn't know how much time had passed...

She cried until her voice was hoarse and she could no longer shed a single tear before she slowly propped herself up from the floor.

Altina crawled over and picked up the amulet she had thrown on the ground.

The fragility and collapse in her eyes faded bit by bit, replaced by an even deeper layer of numbness.

The whole person seemed as if she were already broken...

“I cannot die...”

“I must live on, until... the day I save my home.”

...

Thirty years later, Norvigel, the North.

On this morning, the sun hid behind heavy clouds, and the sky was somewhat gloomy.

Altina slowly opened her eyes.

She rose from the bed, still washing up methodically and dressing neatly.

Finally, her gaze fell upon the amulet beside the washbasin.

Every time she washed her face, she would carefully remove it, wipe it clean, and then put it back on.

The cool mithril pendant pressed against her fair, delicate skin. Hundreds of years of time had not diminished its luster in the slightest.

The elf's keen hearing allowed her to clearly catch the sound of footsteps approaching from outside. The steps were light, belonging to a small child.

Then, there was a gentle knock on the door.

It was Vera, her new human friend.

Today, under Vera's introduction, she was going to meet those two magic scholars who had caused a stir in the magic world—Master Hermit and Master Ash.

Altina lowered her eyes, her fingertips lightly stroking the amulet.

The thought that had been suppressed countless times, that had nearly flickered out long ago... emerged weakly once more.

Will this time be any different?

Please... bless me.

Bless me.

...