The Curse of the Immortal

"That really was rather bizarre..." Zeliel shook his head with a smile.

For some reason, it reminded him of monkeys at typewriters, searching for the one correct answer through endless attempts.

"More than bizarre—they've caused tremendous harm to the outside world! Scribbling things together means you have no idea what kind of magic you'll produce. The circuit structures might conflict with each other, and that's extremely lethal!"

"Three years ago, there was an Imaginist School mage in the royal capital. The magic he created drained the bodily fluids from four people, including himself. Four living people turned into mummies in an instant, and one of them was even a royal noble!"

Bev rattled off the examples.

"And last year, an Imaginist School mage accidentally came up with a spell that could permanently salinize soil. Unfortunately, his testing ground happened to be beside a vast wheat field, the town's largest source of food... I won't go into the consequences. Anyway, that guy's head is still hanging from the city wall."

"There are countless similar examples. Accidentally cursing someone, turning themselves into neither human nor ghost, or simply exploding on the spot because their magic power became unstable—I can't even be bothered to list them all."

"Doesn't the Mages' Guild do anything about them?" Zeliel was dumbfounded.

"Sigh... It's not that simple. Though most mages with any sense oppose the Imaginist School, there will always be people who believe in it. Some of them even hold high positions in the Guild and wield real power."

Bev shook her head.

"Besides, despite all their scribbling, some Imaginist School members do get lucky and create useful magic. So the higher-ups can't wipe them out outright. They merely strictly forbid them from conducting experiments in densely populated areas."

"That does make sense..."

"Anyway, just remember that Imaginist School mages are a bunch of lunatics. Don't ever get involved with them." Bev's expression was grave.

"Got it..."

After listening to Bev's account, Zeliel could not help but let his imagination run wild.

First, he could confirm that the Great Creation Art existed. That legend was true.

That also explained why, the instant he chose Spell Structure Evolution, the Great Creation Art had entered the analysis queue—because this world itself had been created by the Great Creation Art.

Everything he saw was part of the Great Creation Art.

Second, Zeliel was deeply interested in how to recreate the Great Creation Art.

If the Creator God had truly stumbled upon the Great Creation Art like an Imaginist School mage, then his Luck stat had definitely been 99999.

Wait...

A way to recreate the Great Creation Art... didn't he already have one?

Zeliel suddenly froze.

At that moment, images from what seemed like another time and space appeared before his eyes.

Zeliel's perspective rose into the third person, allowing him to see himself clearly.

Frame after frame flickered past, while cold narration quietly sounded in his mind:

Zeliel realized something.

He had already obtained the final script of this game of fate.

Yes, it was [Great Creation Art].

With it, all effort was meaningless. Even struggling became laughable.

It was the answer to every question, the end of every journey. Like a monument, it stood silently at the end of time.

Zeliel no longer needed to explore anything else. From this moment onward, he only needed to think about one thing.

"Survive."

Yes, he only needed to survive.

No matter what means he used, no matter what price he paid, no matter what he became, as long as he lived, he could wait until the Great Creation Art's analysis progress reached 100%.

Though the process would be exceedingly long, the day would eventually come.

Thus, Zeliel chose this path.

He abandoned all emotion and morality, making survival his sole creed.

He began feverishly studying those ancient tomes of dark magic. He learned how to draw vitality from the wails of living creatures, how to inject fresh blood into his aging body.

He performed the cruelest sacrificial rituals, sending innocent lives one after another before evil gods, all for the right to cling to life.

Zeliel was no longer human.

After countless modifications through flesh magic, Zeliel had become a mass of evil flesh that writhed without end.

He sealed himself within a cavern in the deepest underground.

Writhe, writhe.

His form had long since changed, and even his personality had been lost.

But that did not matter.

Writhe, writhe.

As long as he lived, he could reach the end.

As long as he lived.

Though the Great Creation Art's analysis progress was painfully slow, before time, it eventually reached its end.

Great Creation Art—analysis complete.

Zeliel had gained supreme authority. All things would prostrate themselves and kneel before him.

How much time had passed? Ten thousand years? A hundred thousand? Or an even greater span?

Seas turned to fields, stars shifted and constellations changed.

None of that mattered, because Zeliel had already won the ultimate victory.

Under his warped consciousness, the entire world was transformed by the Great Creation Art into a land of flesh. Chunks of meat and pus spread across the earth, covering every inch of every corner.

In that deathly silent space, every creature's individual consciousness was extinguished. Only newborn buds of flesh flourished beneath the blood moon, freely enjoying Zeliel's gift to them—eternal life.

[Ending One: Curse of the Immortal.]

"Hey, Zeliel, are you even listening?"

Bev waved a hand before his face, pulling Zeliel out of his fantasy.

Zeliel shuddered violently, as if waking from a nightmare. Cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

What had those images been...?

He touched his cheek. His fingers trembled slightly, and his breathing grew rapid.

[Ending One: Curse of the Immortal]?

Was that a path his future self might take?

"I... How do I look right now?" Zeliel looked at Bev in alarm.

"You look fine... It's not like you have rice stuck to the corner of your mouth."

Bev stared seriously at Zeliel for a while. "Do you want me to tell you that you're handsome?"

"If I look fine, then that's good..."

As long as he was not a lump of flesh, Zeliel let out a breath of relief.

Turning into something like that for eternal life would be worse than dying.

Those images... had merely been his delusions, right?

"What exactly is wrong with you? Your complexion suddenly got so bad. Are you feeling unwell?" Bev asked with concern.

"I'm fine... I just got a little distracted."

Zeliel shook his head. "It's nothing."

After staying at the Mages' Guild for so long, evening had arrived without him realizing it.

Zeliel had more or less finished everything he needed to do. After saying goodbye to Bev and agreeing to meet again next time, he left the Mages' Guild.