Fulilian: The Little Master Who Doesn't Understand Love

Chapter 248 The Cruel Theory of Lifespan
Lord walked over to Vlamé and knelt down beside him.

She didn't look at him, but stared blankly at the ground scorched by the aftershocks of her magic, tears silently sliding down her cheeks and mingling with the soil.

She saw how relaxed and carefree Teacher Celie looked. She was also casting a forbidden spell, and she was unable to move, but Teacher Celie was completely unaffected.

The gap really is that huge.

“Volamel.” Lord lowered his voice, a hint of determination in his tone.

Vlamé's body trembled slightly, but he still did not raise his head.

“Lift your head and look at me,” Lord said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Vlamé struggled to raise his neck and meet Lord's eyes.

There was no disgust or impatience in it, but rather a clear sense of boundaries.

"Lord, it's me."

“You are very good, Vlame,” Lord said, his first words taking her by surprise. “Your talent and this immature but brilliant fusion magic you displayed today have both exceeded my expectations.”

His affirmation gave Vlamé a glimmer of hope, but Lord's next words shattered that hope completely.

“However, feelings cannot be bought with talent and strength, much less fought for.” His gaze was calm yet cold. “I cannot reciprocate your feelings. Not in the past, not now, and not in the future….”

The air seemed to freeze.

The light in Vlamé's eyes quickly dimmed, replaced by a stubborn and unwilling despair.

She grabbed Lord's hand suddenly, her fingertips trembling with emotion.

"Why!?" Her voice was hoarse, trembling with tears. "Is it because I'm not good enough? Is it because I'm not strong enough? Or is it because... because of Teacher Celie!?"

She used almost all her last strength to call out that name.

Lord watched her silently, letting her hold him.

Countless complex emotions flashed across his eyes, ultimately culminating in a very soft sigh.

He seemed to be struggling, there were some things he didn't want to say, but at this moment, perhaps only the cruelest truth could sever this obsession.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. "Because of time, Vlame," Lord was forced to reveal the cruel truth. "Because the time I have is different from the time you have."

Vlame was stunned and couldn't understand for a moment.

Lord looked at her and said slowly, “I am a person from a thousand years ago. My life has long surpassed the limits of humanity. A hundred years, a thousand years, or even longer, may just be a segment of a long life for me. But you,” his gaze fell on her young but stubborn face, “are human, possessing a brilliant but short life.”

“I don’t want to…” He paused, as if those words weighed a ton, “I don’t want to be a lover a hundred years from now, to personally bid you farewell, then etch your image into my memory, and walk alone through the endless years to come. That kind of weight is too much for me to bear, and I don’t want to bear it.”

Vlamé's pupils contracted sharply; she finally understood what Lord had been avoiding all along.

It wasn't that she wasn't good enough, it wasn't Celia, but rather the insurmountable gap in their lifespans.

"I don't care!" she almost screamed as she retorted, tears streaming down her face. "Even if it's only a hundred years! Even if it's only a few decades! As long as I can be with you, I don't care about anything else! As long as I've had you, I... I..."

“And what about a hundred years from now?!” Lord interrupted her, his voice rising abruptly. “A hundred years from now, you’ll be dust, and what about me? How am I supposed to face the endless eternity without you, carrying this fleeting joy and eternal loss?” He stared intently at her, each word like a judgment: “Volatham, is your love so selfish? Only caring for yourself, leaving me with endless pain and longing? Is this what you wanted?”

Vlame was speechless, his mouth agape but no sound came out.

Lord's words were like a cold file, grinding away at all her unrealistic romantic fantasies, revealing the bloody reality beneath.

After a long silence, she lowered her head, her voice so weak it was almost inaudible, filled with endless bitterness: "By then, I would be long gone, and I wouldn't... I wouldn't stand in your way anymore..."

"absurd!"

Lord finally couldn't hold back any longer. He curled his finger and, with a force that was full of anger at her lack of self-control, gave her a hard knock on the forehead!
"Well!!!"

Vlame winced in pain, covered her forehead, and looked at him with teary eyes.

"What do you take feelings for? A relay race?" Lord laughed angrily, but there was no smile in his eyes. "Do you think love is something you can run a leg of the race and then hand it over to the next person to continue? Vlamé, feelings are not like that! They are not something that can be transferred!"

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down: "My feelings for Celia are a different matter."

And even without her, I still cannot respond to you.

I've already made the reason very clear: in the long journey of life, I can't bring myself to pull someone along for a short while, leaving behind an eternal void.

Seeing Vlame's utterly defeated expression, he finally softened.

He reached out and gently placed his hand on her head, his tone softening: "Volamei, your magic, your future, both hold infinite possibilities."

Don't waste all your energy on your obsession. Try to transform this feeling into the power to explore the path of magic, okay?

"Let me see you standing at the pinnacle of magic; that might be... a better answer than any other response."

Vlame stared at him blankly, feeling the warmth coming from above her head. The surging despair in her heart seemed to finally fade away, leaving behind a mess in her heart.

She remained silent for a long, long time, and finally, very slowly, she nodded.

She knew that this might be the only reason she could temporarily suppress her surging emotions.

At least, she could still follow in his footsteps as his disciple.

After calming Volamere down, Lord stood up and turned his gaze to Celia, who had been quietly observing him and Volamere from a short distance away.

He walked over.

As Celia watched him approach, she felt no remorse or lingering fear, but rather a lingering fighting spirit, as if she were still savoring the unfinished magical duel from just moments before.

Lord stopped in front of her, his brow furrowed: "Selie, you were too impulsive just now."

Celia tilted her head slightly, seemingly puzzled: "Impulsive? She challenged me, and I responded. Isn't that normal?"

“But this wasn’t a life-or-death struggle!” Lord’s tone intensified. “She used an unstable forbidden spell, and instead of stopping her, you used magic of the same scale! What would have happened if I hadn’t stopped her in time? You almost killed her!”

Selene paused for a moment, her gaze sweeping over Volame, who was still slumped on the ground in the distance, and said calmly, "She didn't hold back, so naturally I had to do my best. Besides, only in this way can she understand the difference between me and her."

(End of this chapter)