How Long Do Saiyans Live

I believe Kryptonians, such as our pal 'Superman', live extremely long lives exceeding human lifespan by centuries when they're under a yellow sun, such as ours. It's due to the yellow sun's radiation, which supercharges their cells granting them distinctive abilities and boosted vitality.

Intriguingly, Viltrumites have an astonishingly long lifespan. They can live up to thousands of years. Their lifespan, teamed up with their superhuman abilities, makes them virtually unkillable under normal circumstances. However, their age doesn't show as humans do. Their aging process slows down significantly after they reach their prime making them look eternally youthful. One good example is Omniman, looking in his prime despite being millennia old.

Tieflings, one of the intriguing player races in Dungeons & Dragons, have a life expectancy comparable to that of humans. Typically, they mature at the same rate as humans do, but live a few years longer, approximately up to 100 years or so. Their infernal heritage infuses them with a touch of longevity.

Half-elves have a longer lifespan than humans, often living around 180 years on average. It's fascinating because they inherit traits from both humans and elves, allowing them to enjoy a much longer life compared to most humans. Their vitality is remarkable, and they age slower, giving them a unique perspective on time and life experiences. Like in 'Dungeons & Dragons,' for example, this longer life can lead to a wealth of wisdom and growth, making them intriguing characters in any story.

In Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, elves are portrayed as incredibly long-lived beings, with lifespans that appear to span thousands—if not millions—of years. While the series doesn’t define an exact number, it consistently emphasizes that elves age so slowly that they are often considered practically immortal. Key Points on Elf Lifespan in Frieren: Frieren Herself: Frieren has lived for over 1,000 years and still appears youthful, showing no signs of physical aging. Her longevity allows her to outlive her human companions, shaping the story’s central emotional theme. Serie, the First-Class Mage Examiner: Serie is implied to be millions of years old, dating back to the earliest eras of the world. Her knowledge and presence suggest that elven aging nearly halts after maturity. Elven Lifespan in General: Pure-blooded elves in Frieren do not seem to die from natural causes. Unless killed, they may live indefinitely. This is not just an exaggeration—characters like Serie demonstrate that even eons can pass with little impact on their bodies or memories. Half-Elves and Hybrids: While not deeply explored, there are hints that half-elves or hybrids may age differently. For instance, Frieren’s mother was said to have a shorter life, possibly due to mixed heritage. Conclusion Elves in Frieren are effectively immortal by natural standards, with aging slowed to the point of being nearly imperceptible. While not explicitly stated, the narrative strongly implies that elven death occurs only through external causes, not old age. Characters like Frieren and Serie embody this timelessness, offering a poignant contrast to the fleeting lives of humans.

In 'Long Live the King', the antagonist isn’t just a single villain but a web of political machinations and personal vendettas. At its core stands Lord Vesper, a nobleman whose ambition eclipses his loyalty. He orchestrates coups under the guise of reform, poisoning alliances and manipulating the king’s own brother into rebellion. His charm masks a ruthless calculus—every smile hides a dagger. Yet, what makes him terrifying isn’t his strength but his ability to turn others into unwitting pawns. The real conflict isn’t brute force but a battle of wits, where trust is the first casualty. Beyond Vesper, the story subtly frames tradition as an antagonist. Ancient laws and rigid hierarchies stifle progress, forcing characters to choose between duty and change. The king’s struggle isn’t just against a man but a system that rewards treachery. Vesper exploits this, weaponizing nostalgia for a past that never existed. The brilliance of the narrative lies in how it blurs lines—sometimes the antagonist is the weight of a crown itself.

I've been obsessed with 'Long Live the King' since its release, and the sequel rumors have been wild. Officially, there's no confirmed sequel yet, but the author dropped hints in interviews about expanding the universe. The ending left room for more—especially with that cryptic prophecy and the unresolved tension between the northern clans. Fan theories suggest a prequel focusing on the first king’s rise is more likely, given the lore-heavy epilogue. The publisher’s website lists a 'mystery project' from the same author, so fingers crossed. What’s fascinating is how the story’s worldbuilding could sustain multiple spin-offs. The magic system’s rules are barely explored, and side characters like the exiled prince have backstories ripe for expansion. The author’s patreon even teased concept art labeled 'LLTK2,' but it might just be scrapped drafts. Until there’s an official announcement, I’m replaying the audiobook for clues.

The finale of 'Long Live the King' is a masterful blend of triumph and tragedy. After chapters of political intrigue and battlefield chaos, the protagonist finally claims the throne—but not without cost. His closest ally, a cunning spymaster, sacrifices herself to expose a traitor in the royal court. The coronation scene is bittersweet; as the new king kneels for the crown, he locks eyes with the ghost of his fallen mentor, silently pledging to rule with their wisdom. The last page reveals an unsettling twist: the enchanted crown subtly influences his decisions, hinting at future corruption. The epilogue jumps forward five years, showing a kingdom flourishing yet morally ambiguous. The king’s once-idealistic reforms now bear a tyrannical edge, and whispers of rebellion stir. It ends with a dagger hidden in a messenger’s scroll—an ominous threat wrapped in silk. The story doesn’t just end; it lingers like a shadow, making you question whether power inevitably corrupts or if the crown was cursed all along.