Elegy from Another World

The flames died down, the corpses were laid to rest, and the once vibrant village was reduced to charred ruins and deathly silence. I wandered alone in this sorrowful place, the storm within me not calmed by revenge, but instead settled into a cold resolve. My tears had run dry; what remained was the unwavering determination to live, and to live on, stronger than ever.

That massacre was like a bucket of ice water, completely waking me up. In this world of swords and magic, fraught with danger, naivety and weakness are original sins. That fleeting warmth was like a bubble, fragile and easily shattered. If I possessed greater power, would the outcome have been different? At least, I wouldn't have helplessly watched what I cherished be destroyed before my eyes.

"Power... I need greater power," I whispered to the cold ruins. Immortality is my trump card, but if all I have is durability, I'm just a sitting duck. I must forge magic—the core power system of this other world—into my true fangs and shield.

So I decided to stay in these ruins for a few more days. Although it was desolate, it was undisturbed for the time being, making it an excellent training ground. I used the remaining wood and thatch to build a makeshift shelter from the wind and rain, and began my in-depth exploration of magic.

Healing Magic: I recalled the wondrous feeling of cells rapidly dividing and reorganizing during my body's self-healing process. I attempted to combine the "nourishing" properties of water magic with this regenerative sensation, focusing on channeling magic to promote wound healing. Initially, I could only accelerate the recovery of minor scratches; gradually, I was able to treat deeper wounds. This wasn't orthodox light healing magic, but rather a brutal yet effective activation of life energy based on my understanding of my own immortality.

Ranged attack magic: Initially, I had a whimsical idea to directly construct the familiar structure of firearms using magic, but the complex mechanical principles and energy conversions far exceeded my current understanding, leading to repeated failures. As a second choice, I turned to weapons more suited to this world's aesthetic—the bow and crossbow. I used water magic to condense the bow and string, then highly compressed water elements to form arrows. These water arrows possessed considerable penetrating power and were completely silent. I practiced continuously, improving the range, accuracy, and arrow hardness.

Detection Magic: To counter potential ambushes, I devised a sonar-like detection technique. By emitting subtle water elemental fluctuations into the surrounding space and then receiving the reflected signals, I construct the outline of the surrounding environment in my mind. Although the range is limited and the accuracy is rough, it is enough for me to perceive the movement of larger objects when my vision is obstructed, like a rudimentary "ultrasonic radar".

My food source was hunting. I used a magical crossbow to hunt small animals like rabbits and pheasants in the nearby woods. However, when I encountered a particularly aggressive wild boar, I realized the limitations of ranged weapons—my arrow failed to kill it, instead enraging it and causing it to roar and charge at me. In that critical moment, I instinctively conjured two short blades made of highly compressed water molecules, their edges shimmering with faint arcs of electricity, on the backs of my hands. As the boar charged, I dodged to the side, the blades slicing across its neck. The paralyzing effect of the electricity combined with the cutting power of the water blades swiftly ended the battle. This experience made me realize that melee combat skills were equally indispensable.

Days passed in monotonous yet focused training. By day, he practiced magic and hunted for food; by night, he reviewed the day's gains and losses over the campfire. The "eternal burning" state of his body still existed, but perhaps due to the immense sorrow and intense sense of purpose, or perhaps because he had gradually become accustomed to coexisting with it, its effects seemed to have become somewhat controllable.

My mood, like ruins washed by rain, was desolate, but no longer filled with suffocating despair. I began to comfort myself in an almost superstitious way: since I could come into this world in such an incredible way, then perhaps death really wasn't the end. That kind family, those innocent villagers, their souls might be heading to another beautiful place to begin a new journey. Thinking this way, the guilt and sorrow in my heart, though not gone, were no longer an unbearable burden.

Seven days later, I felt my control over magic had improved significantly, and I had acquired basic self-defense skills. It was time to leave this ruin that had witnessed both pain and growth.

I packed my simple belongings—mainly some dried meat, a dagger, and small items I'd rummaged through the ruins that might fetch some money. I took one last look at the joint burial mound and bowed deeply.

"Bye now."

I turned and took a step. My long golden hair fluttered in the wind, and my blue eyes, which had lost some of their confusion, gained more determination. I embarked on a new journey, my destination the very heart of human civilization in this region, a metropolis said to be a gathering place for countless adventurers, scholars, and powerful figures—Valencia.