EP.184
-Human?
The worm in the shape of an elf mumbled. Ivan twisted the spear that was thrusting towards him and swung his axe. Crunch, the elf’s head that had been mumbling burst open.
Regardless of its form, this creature’s weakness is not its head. It was a swarm made up of numerous magical beasts. However, the form that had lost its head soon scattered and spilled onto the ground.
-Keee—!!
As he frowned at the change, a sharp alertness surged within him. Ivan quickly turned his head and avoided the arrow that was grazing his cheek.
Looking straight ahead, an elf dressed in clothing was nocking an arrow. Both the arrow, the bow, and the clothing were all made of magical beasts.
His cheek burned. He had clearly dodged, yet in that moment, the arrowhead opened his cheek and bit into the skin.
“It’s getting more sophisticated.”
“What?”
“Those guys.”
Ivan briefly responded and swung his axe. One of the approaching elves was smashed again and scattered.
He gradually started to feel out of breath. He couldn’t gauge how long or how fiercely he had been fighting. The space, as well as time, seemed to be twisted.
“Human in the sanctuary, why?”
“Kill him. Lowly—.”
The elves approached, mumbling blankly. The ones who had been charging recklessly were slowly mixing in ‘skills’, clutching worm-made weapons.
-Kakang—!!
This was the first time an attack had been blocked. Ivan watched as the spear, blocked by his axe, opened its mouth with teeth and grinded against the blade, quickly twisting his body.
Crunch, the axe blade crushed the spear, bursting the elf holding it. Slimy bodily fluids splattered onto the hem of his coat.
Sentience was emerging. New techniques and tricks were being revealed from these creatures.
“Elpheira.”
“Yes, Sir Yeremov.”
“Do you recognize that clothing?”
“W-wait a moment. It’s too fast. Just a moment, please.”
Elpheira peeked out from the hem of her coat and cautiously surveyed the surroundings. Startled by the writhing forms, she gradually narrowed her eyes calmly.
She soon nodded and replied.
“It’s an extremely old traditional attire. Indeed, those things… Hmm. No, this looks like it’s the ancestral forest.”
Anger rippled in Elpheira’s eyes.
“They’ve defiled this forest and planted the souls of our ancestors into a body of magical beasts. The ancestors who were here…”
Having killed the ancestors turned into trees, they extracted their souls and embedded them into the horde of magical beasts. The creatures, beginning to gain sentience, ravenously devoured the souls of the ancestors to enhance their own flesh.
“Those are not your ancestors, Elpheira.”
“I know. I know that the beasts merely devour and imitate them… But still… this is.”
It would be the most horrific insult one could inflict upon an elf.
Ivan nodded at her words. The dead should remain dead. There is no greater insult than forcing the deceased to walk again.
For elves, the most beautiful death was in the ancestral forest. They were desecrating the noble tradition that had been passed down since ancient times in the most dreadful manner.
Creating the Seven Dragon Lords at the heart of the elves who hated demons.
“Do you see any possibilities?”
“Magic? Hmm… I’m not incompetent. Really. I’ve been recognized as the best genius in the Astronomy Faction throughout history, you know.”
“I know.”
How much your father bragged about you.
Ivan tucked Elpheira’s stumbling head back into the hem of his coat and took a deep breath.
“Take your time.”
If time is the only thing lacking, it’s not difficult to buy some.
Ivan firmly gripped the axe handle with fingertips that were slowly losing sensation in the bitter cold and finished his words.
Elpheira nodded slightly inside the hem of her coat and tightly grasped his sleeve.
“Please buy me one hour… no, just two hours. I will finish it no matter what happens.”
“Hmm.”
Elpheira glanced up slightly at Ivan, who was visible through the thick coat.
His skin, soaked in the bodily fluids of magical beasts, was glistening and cracking in the freezing cold. Nevertheless, he was channeling most of his magic to her to maintain at least a minimal body temperature.
Even though he himself was gradually freezing and becoming slower in movement, the flow of magic that entered her remained steady.
The number of enemies is increasing.
Elpheira looked around with trembling eyes. Are they getting more accustomed as time passes? The swarm of magical beasts disguised as elves was gradually increasing.
Each individual was now using techniques. They were thrusting with spears, shooting arrows, and occasionally swinging swords.
Ivan was slaughtering them all like a lion among a flock of sheep, but there seemed to be no end to their numbers. What started as a dozen or so quickly grew to a hundred or more.
There is no time. The only way to secure both Ivan’s and her own lives against the infinitely increasing enemies is—
“To restore magic.”
Fortunately, this place is filled with magic. Although it’s a type of magic that cannot be used immediately, it does mean that there is sufficient latent fuel.
Then she must find a way. Even if it requires altering the body. She must derive a magical formula that can be optimized for this magic.
Theoretical realms are her specialty. Elpheira tightly closed her eyes and sat down. She could feel Ivan standing in front of her.
Even as she began her meditation, she couldn’t let go of Ivan’s sleeve.
A skyborne battleship fell from the heavens, and amidst the chaos where elves who had lost their magic screamed in the darkness, there was only one place that showed the least damage and the fastest response.
Iberenden, the island ruled by the Swordsmanship faction.
This was not originally a place governed by a school of magic. It was land that had always been far from magic engineering. Moreover, the ruler of this place was the sharp-eyed Adelplat.
A legendary swordsman who had come back alive after buying time for the retreat of his forces against the Seven Dragon Lords. Even if a handful of magic disappeared, there was no one who dared to defy her and the Swordsmanship faction to incite a riot.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve come to Ydranhill via regular navigation.”
Adel tightened his grip on the anchor line on the stormy deck as he squinted his eyes. The battleships of the Swordsmanship faction were crossing the sea, cutting through the waves that swelled like castle walls.
Eleven battleships, each carrying over seven hundred elves who had entered the realm of the superhuman and dedicated their long lives solely to swordsmanship, were traversing the Kalion inland sea.
*
“Are you saying we can’t set sail immediately!!”
“Calm down, you’re being unsightly.”
Islyph pressed his weary eyes as he looked at his daughter and her group, who were shouting loudly.
“Which island has the capacity to set sail right now? We can hardly maintain the harbor facilities.”
“What about maritime navigation!”
“Most of those who can do that are humans.”
If it’s the operation of the airship, he might not know, but when it comes to maritime navigation, most crews are human. Labor costs are absurdly cheap, plus there’s little risk of onboard rebellion.
Important cargo is transported by air. Most trade can be entrusted to airships. So maritime navigation refers to situations where humans are needed to pull the ship to Kalion out of necessity.
Even if it were not the case, the captain merely used elves, while actually commanding humans. After all, humans were as numerous as goblins.
Therefore, at this point when all transportation systems, including airships, had come to a halt, the elves who could navigate the seas were refusing to board the ships.
“Do you want to be surrounded by humans in the middle of the sea? Isn’t that too dangerous?”
“Profit…!!”
The elf sorcerer, unable to use magic, was nothing more than a scarecrow laden with gold. While they could exert authority on the island, they daren’t defy it, knowing this situation wouldn’t last forever.
What does it matter at sea? Whatever happens on that tiny ship, who could control it if it was disguised as an accident and fled?
“Then are you saying we should just watch this unfold? Are you serious?”
“I need to think of a better way. First, we need to protect the island….”
“Excuse me, may I say something, Chairperson?”
Islyph turned his gaze to the man clinging to his daughter. The firstborn of the Eastvelpen family, who was the fiancé his daughter had broken off the engagement with.
The Eastvelpen family was a prestigious ancient noble house.
Oswald politely opened his mouth towards Islyph, who nodded.
“This commotion will be temporary. You must know that too, Chairperson. This disaster is a result of the malfunction of the Milestone.”
“Yes, my disciples are still clinging to the Milestone, sweating profusely. So?”
“If we assume we have identified the cause of the situation and that its effects are temporary, shouldn’t we act like elves?”
“Oh, like elves?”
“It is not our role to prepare the solution. We are the great race standing on the shoulders of giants, looking down on distant valleys, are we not?”
Islyph couldn’t help but smile at the audacity of the young man’s words.
“What do you want to say?”
“I want to discuss what happens after the crisis.”
“You’re in no position to make such claims. Do you understand?”
“Even if my father were here, he wouldn’t disagree with me.”
Oswald continued speaking with a serious face. After swallowing a dry gulp, he slowly opened his mouth.
“We must depose Her Majesty the Queen.”
“Why is that?”
“The cause of the Milestone incident lies with each family’s use of the Milestone. The authority over the Milestone rests with the royal family, which has the legal right to curb the aristocracy.”
“So you’re saying we should shift the blame?”
“Yes, having management authority also means bearing the responsibility for mismanagement.”
“Why are you saying this now?”
“Any sufficiently discerning members of the Privy Council must be thinking this as well. They are merely startled by the commotion; it’s just a matter of time.”
Oswald carefully continued as he faced Islyph, who regarded him with interest.
“Thus, the family that first reaches Ydranhill will become the symbol of the next government. They can also claim credit for deposing the queen and stabilizing the situation by protecting the new king.”
“So you mean we should set sail now?”
“It may already be too late, Chairperson. In a situation where magic has disappeared, which family would logically move first?”
“…the Swordsmanship faction, Edelplat Cohenulf’s.”
“Yes. And the families that have realized this must be eager to act now. At this point where communication has broken down—”
Islyph smiled broadly and followed his words.
“If the Privy Council convenes again, it will be in Ydranhill, and those representatives who could not participate even remotely will be excluded from the discussion of the next agenda?”
“Yes, so we should head to Ydranhill this moment.”
“That sounds reasonable. Hahaha!!”
Islyph burst into laughter and patted Oswald on the back.
“Istvalfen’s head of household has raised a fine son. Indeed, he was a spirited child from a young age. I had momentarily forgotten about that.”
“You’re being too kind.”
“Once this situation is resolved, I’ll calculate my own share of the contributions.”
Islyph congratulated Oswald and left the room. The elves, who were leisurely preparing for the winter measures, began to gather their numbers and hasten the preparations for their voyage.
Lucia, who was watching them with wide eyes, cautiously spoke up.
“Mr. Rustpitz. Are you serious?”
“What do you mean?”
“Deposing the queen and taking hold of the next regime… saying that resolving the situation is something beneath lessers… something like that, um, elf-like…? An elf-like statement.”
Lucia’s eyes were filled with disbelief. Oswald was one of the humblest among all the elves she had encountered.
Sometimes, he felt as if he was just a human in an elf’s body. Even though he had a playful side, he was polite and kind.
It was as if she was facing a new side of such a person. The idea that he was pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes with such elf-like political acumen sent chills down her spine.
Oswald forced a wry smile at her words.
“I’ve given it some thought.”
“Thought?”
“Yes, everyone here has their own strengths. Miss Lucia is the disciple of Lord Enrique, Miss Rundis has exceptional craftsmanship, and Miss Elpheira stands out among her peers. People like Miss Isabel, Miss Ecdysis, and Mr. Oscar are talents that need no further mention.”
“Hmm… Yes, but…?”
“Yujin, or Yenigeb, has heard the word of God directly, and Miss Yuri, despite being a commoner, is the top of the Knights Department. I doubt Miss Isabel or Mr. Oscar could defeat her in swordsmanship.”
Everyone displayed a significant talent in one way or another. They were positioned in the most suitable roles to complement each other.
And Ivan would organize such companions into a party according to their roles. In that situation, what would Oswald’s own role be?
His magic was focused solely on mind sorcery. It didn’t seem particularly helpful in battle, and when it came to gathering information, Yujin’s status screen or Ivan’s “potion” were more useful.
What about now, with magic having disappeared? Elpheira excelled at magical interpretation, so she could act directly with Ivan in this situation. But what about him?
‘Right now, I’m just a burden.’
He couldn’t use magic and was not a person of this world, so he wasn’t familiar with its culture or history, and he couldn’t excel in academic fields either. He needed to demonstrate his usefulness in other ways.
His distinction was that he was an “elf.” And that he had possessed the creative work of [a villainous noble obsessed with a genius wizard].
In other words, it meant he could receive the full support of [the villainous noble].
And in this world, [the villainous noble] was Evelyn Rustpitz, the favored one of the Privy Council. As long as he could receive her support, his role could only be this.
Political support.
To enable the hero and his companions to act to their fullest, from behind the scenes.
To become a solid force that would never betray them under any circumstance and rise to a position that could project all possible support.
That was the role he had found as a party member. And now was the time for that debut.
Uniting the elves was not about ideals, legitimacy, or authority, but rather about schemes, profit, and political power.
“This is the best I can do right now. It doesn’t look very nice, does it?”
Oswald chuckled self-deprecatingly.
It felt like ants were crawling in his head. Elpheira was struggling to calm the chaotic mana that was bursting forth as she coughed up blood.
She had improved the magic circuit. No, it would be better to say she had made it worse. It was deviating from the superior elven magic system and was instead mimicking that of magical beasts.
The efficiency was plummeting, and the leaking mana was wreaking havoc on her entire body. It felt as if her brain was being cooked alive. She had to endure both the precision of a surgical operation and the pain akin to torture simultaneously.
Concentration had hit rock bottom. Yet, in the end, Elpheira succeeded in moving a thin thread of mana according to her will.
“Iyermov! I did it! The—”
How much time had passed? In this space, even the sense of time was distorted, so Elpheira could not gauge how long she had devoted herself to meditation.
When she lifted her head, wiping the blood from her eyes.
“Yeremov…?”
She saw Ivan, half-eaten, looking down at her.
“How long…?”
“Three days, 13 hours, and 21 minutes.”
Ivan answered with a faint smile. His right arm was grotesquely dangling, muscles torn here and there, and his back and chest were filled with gaping, lacerated wounds.
She couldn’t see where his outer robe had gone; it had turned into tatters, revealing bare skin between the rips in his shirt. On the spots where congealed blood had frozen and fallen away, old scars clung like an ancient mosaic.
Scattered over them were new wounds. And.
“And.
“I told you, if the only thing you lack is time—.”
Making up for that was not difficult. What he could do was ultimately just this, using his body.
Ivan, with lips trembling from mana exhaustion, strained to respond.
Opposite his tattered right side was his left.
So, from the left sleeve he held onto to his forearm.
At the position where Elpheira was, there were no injuries or wounds whatsoever.
“I… I… I’m better now… ugh…”
“Don’t cry.”
“This happened because of me!”
Because she had to keep half of her body still to protect him.
Because she had to continually transmit mana to ensure she didn’t freeze to death.
And because she hadn’t moved a single step, fearing it might break her concentration.
She was sure that without her, he could have tolerated three days, no— even longer without injury.
Elpheira couldn’t hold back her tears and sobbed, rubbing her face against Ivan’s hand.
“Such excessive self-awareness.”
Ivan quietly removed his hand from her face and lifted her up.
With his sleeve, still relatively clean, he roughly wiped her tear-streaked eyes.
“Your ancestors did well.”
So, it wasn’t that he was injured trying to protect her. The opponent was simply strong.
Having answered that,
“Considering you’re an elf.”
He added with a joking tone and a faint smile.
Unintentionally, Elpheira wrapped her arms around the back of Ivan’s neck.
When Ivan, momentarily losing his balance from mana exhaustion, slightly bent his knees, she stood on her toes to meet his gaze.
– Swoosh.
Their breaths mixed at the tips of their noses.
“If you go out, you’ll be responsible for this. Saying that with that face is unfair.”
A moment later, Elpheira whispered tearfully as she pulled away.