As Long as We're Alive, We Have to Do Something

"Where?"

"The Land of Fallen Gods in the west. Not only is there a fallen god there, but there is also magic capable of killing gods."

Gods were immortal and indestructible. That was the concept accepted by every living being in this world.

Just like the Elf race: they merely had infinite lifespans, yet they could still be killed by external forces.

If an elf was killed, they died.

A very simple truth.

But gods could not be killed. At least, none of the magic currently known could truly kill a god.

Yet there was a fallen god in that region. Even the elves did not know exactly when it had fallen. The divine power released after its death shrouded the entire area, and no magic could probe what lay within.

Ever since hearing other elves speak of the western Land of Fallen Gods, Serie had wanted to go. Now that the opportunity was before her, she had to consider whether this might be the only chance she would ever get.

Rhode froze. "The Land of Fallen Gods?"

What was with a name that sounded like the final dungeon?

Come to think of it, could gods die too? Judging from how the Age of Gods ended later on, it was certainly possible.

The corners of Serie's lips rose slightly. "It is said that no living creature that entered has ever returned. Are you afraid?"

Rhode shook his head. "No. I'm just curious. Why do you want to slay a god?"

Serie's smile became even brighter. It was the purest smile he had seen from her, utterly unguarded and entirely sincere.

"Because if magic is not meant to kill one's opponent, then it has no meaning. The same goes for gods."

That was far too twisted. Was this what the ancestor of magic users from the Age of Gods was like?

It was difficult for him to imagine how she would view the peaceful era that came after the Demon King was defeated and the Human Race achieved victory over the Demon Race.

It was probably the very thing she least wanted to see.

But what did that have to do with him? He would not live to see what happened thousands of years later anyway.

He did not have an infinite lifespan like an elf, and this world had no magic that could extend a person's life. Otherwise, Himmel would have used it on himself long ago.

Human lives were simply too short. Even if he spent his entire life by Serie's side, to her, it would probably be nothing more than a brief adventure.

But Rhode did not want to think about those things right now.

He stood up and stretched. "Sure. Let's go take a look. It's not like I have anywhere else I want to go."

Still, he added, "But at least wait until the humans of this era have learned magic."

Since he had come to this world, he had to do something. As long as he was alive, he had to do something for humanity, this weak race.

He was weak. The only offensive spell he could presently show off was Light Arrow, but even so, he was already stronger than the vast majority of humans.

He did not know how the humans of the Mythical era had learned magic in history, but he did not mind becoming a pioneer.

"This era? Why does that sound strange?"

"Ahem, slip of the tongue. More accurately, I meant my fellow people living in this era."

Rhode hurriedly explained. He had no intention of exposing his identity as a transmigrator. He would take that secret with him to the grave.

Fortunately, Serie did not dwell on it. She merely looked at him and nodded lightly. "Fine. We leave tomorrow."

Naturally, Serie could not take Rhode to the Land of Fallen Gods right now. He was too weak; going there would be pointless.

Night had fallen.

Rhode sat beside the campfire, occasionally turning the skewers of mushrooms over the flames. This was their dinner. Originally, he had wanted Serie to see whether there were any creatures nearby like the Grayhorn Rabbits they had encountered before, but after searching around, they found nothing.

During a quiet moment, Rhode raised his head and gazed at the night sky of this world.

It was more brilliant than Earth's, as though every star were within reach. Soft moonlight spilled across the land, creating a sight he would never tire of no matter how many times he saw it.

"What are you looking at?"

Serie approached after finishing the warning spell.

"The stars." Rhode smiled. "In my homeland, every star represents a world."

Rhode did not know whether he could see Blue Star from here, whether he could see his homeland.

Probably not.

Serie glanced up at the sky and said blandly, "In elven legends, stars are the eyes of gods, watching everything in the world."

She had looked at the starry sky for hundreds of years and did not find it beautiful in the slightest.

As expected of a short-lived lifeform, to take interest in something like this.

"Wouldn't that mean we were being watched no matter what we did? Those gods sure have a lot of free time."

At the thought that gods might be watching him at every moment, Rhode felt as though coarse cloth were scratching all over his body.

"Some elves see it as a god's favor, while others detest it to the extreme." Serie's tone was exceptionally cold.

Rhode turned back and teased, "Then you must be the latter?"

Serie did not answer. She only gazed silently at the starry sky. Sometimes, silence was an answer too.

"You said earlier that every star in your homeland represents a world. Is that true?"

Ever since she had understood the concept of the starry sky, Serie had wondered the same thing.

What exactly were those stars?

The elves regarded stars as the eyes of gods, watching everything in the world.

The Dwarves saw them as jewels embedded in the world's enormous crown. Whoever unified the world would become the master of those stars.

The Demon Race simply hated those glowing things, calling them the lackeys of the God of Light.

And now, Rhode had proposed a new concept: every star was a world.

It was an absurd notion, but an interesting one.

"Of course it's true."

Rhode was telling the truth, but he did not know how to explain to Serie that the stars were planets in the universe, so they really could be called worlds.

After all, wasn't something wrong with teaching science in a western fantasy world?

Besides, in a western fantasy world like this, it was entirely possible that stars really were the work of some god.

Serie stared at the starry sky. Specks of starlight reflected in her golden eyes, while silvery moonlight fell across her cheeks, giving her an unexpectedly sacred air that made Rhode's heart stir unconsciously.

"If every star is a world," she said softly, "then in the eyes of others, might our world also be nothing more than a star?"

Rhode looked at her in surprise.

He had not expected Serie to grasp the concept so quickly.

"That's right." He nodded.

Serie turned back and chuckled. "A nice legend. At least it's better than the elves' so-called eyes of gods."

This isn't a legend.

Rhode sighed helplessly in his heart.