Serie

Mythical era.

A world where gods and demons coexisted.

"Weak and short-lived life."

Before the campfire, Rhode looked innocently at the petite elf who had suddenly appeared before him.

After being transported to this world for so long, he had finally seen a character he recognized.

Her smooth golden hair fell straight to her waist, and her pointed elven ears were unmistakable. Her sharp gaze and the faint smile at the corners of her lips gave her an aloof, superior air, yet paired with her youthful face, it created an oddly charming contrast.

"Want some?" Rhode offered her the grilled mushroom skewer in his hand.

He had wanted grilled meat skewers himself, but every monster in this damned world was absurdly strong, forcing him into becoming a vegetarian.

As for the elf girl before him, Rhode recognized her at a glance.

She was the famous Little Ancestor, Serie.

But right now, she looked like a young girl only a few centuries old, completely lacking the effortlessly powerful bearing she would possess in later ages.

Had he really been transported here too early?

Serie looked at the grilled mushroom skewer Rhode held out. After pondering for a moment, she accepted it.

Only after seeing Rhode take a bite first did she gently open her mouth and take a tentative bite.

Juices burst forth, bringing an indescribable deliciousness.

It was a flavor Serie had never tasted in the Elf Forest.

The Elf race believed in nature and harmony. They rarely even lit fires, so how could they have endured the impact of modern grilled skewers?

If it had been another elf, she probably would not have accepted Rhode's skewer at all. The elemental aura on it was far too chaotic. But Serie was different.

Unlike elves who loved freedom and peace, Serie longed for war and enjoyed this utterly chaotic Mythical era.

"My name is Rhode. What's yours?"

Although he knew Serie, Rhode naturally could not just call her by name. That would only put her on guard.

"Serie." The Little Ancestor took another bite of the mushroom skewer and replied in an even tone.

As expected, good food was the best way to bring people closer. The elf girl, who had looked so proud just moments ago, now obediently gave him her name.

"Do you know where this is? I'm lost."

Ever since arriving in this world, Rhode had been lost. Before meeting Serie, he had not encountered a single being he could communicate with.

Much less any other humans.

That was why Rhode suspected that he had traveled several thousand years too far into the past, arriving in Frieren's Mythical era.

"The outskirts of the Elf Forest. You should be glad you did not venture deeper into these woods."

The Elf Forest was home not only to the Elf race, but also to all kinds of powerful magical beasts. This weak human before her would likely become nothing more than their food.

"Then have you seen any humans like me? Uh, any creatures like me?"

Unsure whether humans even existed in this era, Rhode changed his wording.

At the same time, seeing that the grilled mushroom skewer in Serie's hand had already been eaten, he hurriedly offered her another one.

Looking at the fragrant grilled mushroom skewer before her, Serie hesitated for a moment before ultimately taking it.

"I saw one two hundred years ago, but that fellow was not as lucky as you. He was eaten by a magical beast."

Serie did not know much about the human race. Most of what she knew came from the elders of the Elf race.

Supposedly, humans possessed bodies like those of the gods, yet they were exceedingly weak.

They could neither wield various Divine arts like the gods nor possess the near-eternal lifespans of elves. They only lived for a few decades.

If not for their fairly impressive reproductive ability, they probably would have vanished from this world long ago.

Even so, the weak human race still lived without a fixed home, forming small tribes and constantly migrating to avoid the wars between the various races.

That was why Serie had called Rhode weak and short-lived when she first saw him.

"Keep walking in that direction, and you'll leave the Elf Forest's sphere of influence. There are no powerful magical beasts along the way, either."

After finishing her grilled mushroom skewer, Serie patted herself off and prepared to leave.

To her, the human before her was merely an insignificant passerby in her long life. Perhaps a thousand years later, she might occasionally recall that on a day like this, there had once been a human whose grilled mushroom skewers were delicious.

That was all.

"Please wait." Rhode had no intention of letting such a powerful backer as Serie leave. "I have a presumptuous request."

Though he did not know how much weaker this historical Serie was than the master later hailed as a walking grimoire, she definitely knew magic.

After arriving in this world, Rhode had awakened a magical talent called Creation. As the name implied, he could create all kinds of magic.

But in practice, it was difficult to make work.

For example, he had once tried to create Fire Magic by using the method of rubbing sticks together to make fire. After countless experiments, it had instead become a magic like a snap-ignition lighter.

Whenever he wanted to start a fire, he only needed to gather dry wood and snap his fingers with magic to produce flames and ignite the pile.

He also had all kinds of convenient magic, such as Water Generation Magic and cleaning magic.

But that was all.

Whether attack magic or healing magic, he could not create any of it.

Because he could not understand the relevant concepts, he could not create them.

For instance, he could understand generating fire as ignition through friction, and generating water as drawing on water molecules in the air. But how was he supposed to attack someone? That was beyond Rhode's knowledge.

A materialist had been transported into a magical world and could not, for the time being, understand what the Power of 'I Reckon' was.

Hearing Rhode's request, Serie turned around.

If this man wanted her to escort him out of the Elf Forest, there was no way she would agree.

She had no plans to leave the forest yet.

Serie did love war, and she enjoyed this world of wars between gods and endless conflicts among the races, but she was not stupid.

There were plenty of beings in this world who could slap her to death. At least until she became strong enough, she had no intention of leaving the mountains.

"I want you to teach me magic."

Rhode's request left Serie momentarily unable to react.

"Teach you magic?" Serie narrowed her eyes. She had never heard of humans being able to learn magic. "Your Human Race cannot learn magic. I cannot teach you."

"It's not that we can't. It's that no one has ever taught us."

Rhode snapped his fingers, and the blazing pile of firewood instantly went out—the kind of extinguishing that would make even firefighters give him a thumbs-up.

Then he used Water Generation Magic, thoroughly dousing the residual heat in the firepit and eliminating any possibility of reignition.

"Interesting."

Looking at magic she had never seen before, Serie felt such intense interest for the first time in her life.