Endless Debt Chapter 1380: Prologue: The Childish Ones (2)

"Were you attacked by bandits?"

The knight asked again, for in these chaotic times, the wilderness was filled with bandits.

Serey was skilled at lying, "Sort of."

From inside the carriage, a sound emerged, and a woman poked her head out. At first glance, she saw Serey, and like many women who had gazed into Serey’s eyes before, she stared blankly at him, easily captivated by those beautiful eyes.

Serey also gazed at the woman. Her expression was so familiar, as Serey had seen it on the faces of many women.

Forgetting the dark impulse and fear of death in his mind, Serey began as if it were another game, knowing his hunt had begun.

"Do you have a destination?" the woman asked proactively.

"Sorry," Serey shook his head, showing sadness, "I don’t."

"That’s too bad. Would you like to travel with us?" the woman invited.

"Hmm... Thank you."

Serey lifted a black umbrella and carefully crawled into the carriage.

The knight watched coldly until bursts of laughter came from the cabin.

The group passed through wild fields and streams, arriving at an old castle. They were escorting the Lord’s daughter.

Time passed, and in the blink of an eye, years drifted by.

Serey, dressed in pajamas, stood before the balcony, gazing afar. It was another beautiful morning, with deadly sunlight brewing behind the mountains, and the dim light illuminated most of the sky.

The scene before him overlapped with memories countless times Serey had seen similar sights before.

"Serey..."

A slightly weak voice sounded behind Serey. He turned around, and the woman tiredly sat up, waving toward Serey.

"What is it?"

Serey sat beside the woman, wrapped his arm around her shoulder, feeling her weakened breath and weary face.

"I... I just feel a bit uncomfortable."

The woman smiled and reached out to caress Serey’s face, "All these years, you haven’t changed at all... Could it be true what you said? Are you really an undead?"

Serey simply smiled in response, a touch of mystery, whispering in her ear, "Maybe, I am an undead, or maybe I’ve just taken good care of myself."

After hearing this, the woman coughed with laughter. After laughing, she became even weaker, collapsing into Serey’s embrace with envy, "It’s wonderful. I wish I could be undead too."

"Are you afraid of death?"

Serey spoke, holding the woman tighter, gently stroking her hair.

"Of course, who wouldn’t fear death," the woman spoke with self-mockery, "But you, Serey, are the undead. How could you understand a mortal’s fear of death?"

Serey said nothing, and the woman remained silent, simply holding Serey tightly, feeling the cold body warmth emanating from him.

That cold body warmth.

"Serey, I wish to become undead too," the woman suddenly said.

Serey looked into the woman’s eyes, filled with sickness and the intent of death. Her face expressed a longing for immortality.

Sickness mercilessly tormented her, leaving her exhausted. The more she felt the chill of death, the more she desired to live. She was still young, had so much beauty still to enjoy, and was willing to give anything to survive.

The woman pleaded, grabbing Serey’s hands. Serey avoided her gaze, deceiving her, "How could I possibly be undead..."

"Help me, Serey, I don’t want to die," the woman interrupted Serey.

Serey took a deep breath, touching her face regretfully, and denied with difficulty, "No, immortality is not a blessing, but an even more terrifying curse. It dilutes all beauty into pale decay."

"It’s okay, I’m not afraid. This way, I can accompany you forever," the woman said.

Serey pushed the woman away, his tone turning icy, "You wouldn’t understand, time is sufficient to change everything. I’ve seen too many turn their love to hatred for me."

When mentioning hatred, Serey couldn’t help but laugh, but this laughter was filled with self-derision.

The woman fell silent, a faint sobbing sound arose, and Serey gazed blankly at the outside world, guessing he was about to leave again.

"Is it really impossible, Serey?" the woman asked one last time.

Serey responded with silence.

The woman’s expression turned from agony to coldness, and in the end, she looked at Serey just as Serey looked at her.

She clapped her hands, and the door was forcibly kicked open. A group of fully armed knights rushed in, raising swords and shields, quickly surrounding Serey.

Serey was not surprised by this, as he had experienced similar scenes many times. Sometimes, Serey wondered if his life had stepped into a sort of cycle, merely repeating over and over until he grew tired of it.

The woman commanded, "Kill him!"

The knights roared, wielding swords forward, hacking repeatedly at Serey. Serey did not resist, allowed himself to be chopped into a bloody mess with flying flesh. Soon, Serey became a mangled corpse, surrounded by blood. The woman held onto a knight, struggling to stand, and looked over Serey’s corpse.

Filled with anticipation, she said, "Come to life, come to life."

Like a curse, the supposedly dead corpse moved. This spectacle frightened the surrounding knights a few steps back. Among the pool of blood, Serey staggered to his feet. The grisly wounds rapidly healed, and within seconds, all of Serey’s injuries were healed. Only the crimson blood on the ground testified that what had just occurred was no illusion.