Curse of the Immortal

"That really is a bit bizarre..." Zelier said, shaking his head with a chuckle. For some reason, the behavior reminded him of monkeys at a typewriter, hammering away in infinite attempts just to stumble upon the one correct answer. "More than just bizarre—they've caused some serious harm to the outside world! Scribbling at random means you have no idea what kind of magic you're actually cooking up. Circuit structures can end up in conflict, and that sort of thing is lethal!" "Three years ago in the royal capital, a Visionary Mage created a spell that sucked all the moisture out of four people, including himself. Four living, breathing human beings turned into mummies in the blink of an eye—and one of them was a noble of the royal line!" Bev rattled off the examples like items from a ledger. "And just last year, another Visionary Mage inadvertently cobbled together a spell that permanently salinized the soil. Unfortunately for everyone, his testing ground was right next to a massive wheat field—the town's single largest source of food... I won't even get into the fallout. Anyway, that guy's head is still hanging from the city wall." "There are countless cases like that. Accidental curses slapped onto random bystanders, people turning themselves into half-human, half-ghoul monstrosities, or just blowing themselves up on the spot from mana instability... I don't even care to list them all." "And the Mages' Guild does nothing about it?" Zelier listened in utter astonishment. "Sigh... it's not that simple. Most mages with half a brain boycott the Visionaries, but you can't stop some people from believing in them. Some of those believers even sit in the guild's upper echelons, holding real power." Bev shook her head. "On top of that, with all their reckless doodling, a few of them actually struck luck and created some genuinely useful spells. Because of that, the higher-ups can't very well wipe them out entirely, so they just strictly ban them from conducting tests in densely populated areas." "I suppose that makes sense..." "In any case, all you need to remember is that Visionary Mages are a bunch of lunatics. Whatever you do, don't get mixed up with them." Bev's expression was grave. "Got it..." Listening to Bev's explanation, Zelier couldn't help letting his thoughts wander. First, he could be certain that Grand Creation truly existed; the legend was real. That also explained why Grand Creation had joined his analysis queue the very moment he selected Formula Deduction—because this world had been fashioned by Grand Creation. Everything he saw was part of Grand Creation. Second, Zelier was deeply intrigued by the question of how to replicate the spell. If the Creator God had truly blundered into creating Grand Creation by sheer dumb luck, much like the Visionary Mages, His luck stat had to be a full 99,999. Wait a minute... A way to replicate Grand Creation... didn't he already have one? Zelier froze. At that very moment, a scene from another time and space seemed to unfold before his eyes. His perspective was abruptly wrenched into the third person, allowing him to see himself with absolute clarity. Frames of imagery flickered past, and a cold narration whispered through his mind: *Zelier realized something.* *He held the final script to this game of fate in his hands.* *Yes—[Grand Creation].* *With its existence, all effort became utterly meaningless; even struggling was reduced to a joke.* *It was the answer to every question, the final destination of every journey, standing silently like a monolith at the end of time.* *Zelier no longer needed to explore anything else. From this moment forth, he needed to think of only one thing:* *"Survive."* *Yes, surviving was all that mattered.* *No matter the means, no matter the price, no matter what shape he took—so long as he stayed alive, he could wait until Grand Creation's analysis reached 100%.* *Though the process would be unimaginably long, that day would inevitably come.* *And so, Zelier chose this path.* *He abandoned all emotion and morality, making survival his sole creed.* *He frantically threw himself into the study of ancient black magic grimoires. He learned how to siphon vitality from the wails of living creatures, how to pump fresh blood into his own decaying flesh.* *He conducted the most gruesome sacrificial rites, delivering innocent lives one after another to evil gods just to purchase the right to cling to an ignoble existence.* *Zelier was no longer human.* *After countless modifications wrought by flesh-and-blood magic, he had devolved into a squirming, vile mass of meat.* *He sealed himself within the deepest subterranean cavern.* *Squirming, squirming.* *His form had long since altered; even his personality was gone.* *Yet it did not matter.* *Squirming, squirming.* *As long as he lived, he would reach the end.* *As long as he lived.* *Though the analysis of Grand Creation crept along at an agonizing pace, before the vastness of time, it finally reached its completion.* *Grand Creation—Analysis Complete.* *Zelier wielded supreme authority; all things would grovel and bow before him.* *How much time had passed? Ten thousand years? A hundred thousand? Or an even greater expanse?* *Seas had turned into mulberry fields; stars had drifted across the heavens.* *None of it mattered, for Zelier had claimed the final victory.* *Under the command of his twisted consciousness, the entire world was reshaped by Grand Creation into a realm of raw flesh and blood. Chunks of meat and foul pus spilled across the earth, blanketing every inch and corner.* *Within this deathly silent expanse, the individual consciousness of every living creature was snuffed out. Only newly sprouted buds of flesh flourished beneath the blood moon, reveling in the gift Zelier had bestowed upon them—eternal life.* *[Ending 1: Curse of the Immortal.]* "Hey, Zelier, are you listening?" Bev waved a hand in front of his face, pulling him out of his reverie. Zelier gave a violent jolt as though waking from a nightmare, cold sweat instantly drenching his back. What kind of vision was that...? He touched his cheek with trembling fingers, his breath coming in shallow, hurried gasps. *[Ending 1: Curse of the Immortal]?* Was that a path he could end up walking in the future? "H-How do I look right now?" Zelier asked, looking at Bev with lingering dread. "Normal... It's not like you have rice stuck to your cheek." Bev studied him intently for a moment. "Are you trying to get me to compliment your looks?" "I look normal? That's good..." As long as he wasn't a shapeless lump of meat. Zelier let out a breath of relief. If gaining immortality meant turning into a monstrosity like that, he would rather die. Those visions... had to be nothing more than his own wild delusions, right? "What's wrong with you? Your face went completely pale all of a sudden. Are you feeling sick?" Bev asked with genuine concern. "I'm fine... just spaced out for a second." Zelier shook his head. "It's nothing." Having lingered at the Mages' Guild for so long, evening had quietly settled in before they noticed. Zelier had wrapped up almost everything he had set out to do. After saying goodbye to Bev and promising to meet again, he took his leave of the Mages' Guild.