The Species War, as you may know, was a massive conflict that broke out 300 years ago.

To put the timeline into perspective, on Earth, 300 years ago was around the time when the Industrial Revolution began in England.

From there, 200 years later, World War I erupted, and shortly afterward, World War II broke out, marking a turning point in history.

Even a decade can bring significant change, so 300 years is more than enough to ensure that this period is firmly recorded as “history.”

The term "living witness to history" is often used to refer to elderly individuals, but even they rarely live to see a century.

“I never imagined Zenon would read something I wrote. It’s a peculiar feeling.”

And yet, here I was, sitting face-to-face with a witness to history—no, someone who was history itself.

This elf, who looked strikingly like Thor, was none other than Eiker Lightsinger, the tragic hero.

A man described in records of the Species War 300 years ago was now sitting before me, as real as could be.

I had met many elves before, and I understood that their age often far exceeded mine.

But it was always something abstract, a fleeting thought attributed to their racial traits, and I never truly grasped it.

However, Eiker was different. He wasn’t just a name in history books; he was a figure repeatedly mentioned as a hero.

While I might one day be recorded in history books, I couldn’t be certain I’d still be alive and well 300 years from now, as Eiker was.

“Are you really Eiker… the actual Eiker?”
“Yes, I am.”
“The one who fought in the Species War?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘fought.’ All I did was disrupt supply lines. Then, of course, the pointy-eared bastards threw me in prison.”
“… …”

I stared at Eiker, dumbfounded. To be honest, it was hard to believe.

Even including my previous life, my combined age wouldn’t exceed 40. Meanwhile, Eiker was someone from 300 years ago.

In other words, he was at least 300 years old. Considering that elves are only recognized as adults at around 50, Eiker’s age must be well over 500.

‘…That’s incomprehensible.’

Once again, I was struck by how long elves lived. Sitting face-to-face with history itself was a dizzying experience.

And yet, I couldn’t help but wonder why Eiker was here.

From what I’d heard, he was supposed to be living a reclusive life in his home.

“Weren’t you living in seclusion? That’s what I heard.”
“What good would staying cooped up in my home do? My lifespan is already unnecessarily long, so I might as well do something with it. Reading is one of my hobbies.”

His deep, resonant voice echoed in my ears. I nodded in understanding.

While it was still surreal, it seemed undeniable that the elf before me was indeed Eiker.

Especially since he had casually used the term "pointy-eared." Most elves wouldn’t even utter those words, yet Eiker did so without hesitation.

I wondered how often he must have used the term for it to become second nature. While it likely carried anger and hatred in the past, now it seemed more like a verbal habit.

“It’s fascinating, really. Reading a book only to find its author sitting right next to me. And not just any author, but someone you’d only expect to see in history books.”
“I feel the same way. The famous Zenon is sitting beside me, reading my work. It’s both humbling and strange.”

Eiker, too, seemed amused by the coincidence. He scratched under his nose with a slight smile.

This was truly a serendipitous encounter. I was meeting someone I had only read about in history books, while Eiker was meeting the most famous figure of the present day.

It was such an uncanny meeting. While Eiker rarely left Alvenheim, and Alvenheim itself was vast, the fact that we crossed paths here was nothing short of extraordinary.

“Did you come to The Sanctum just to read?”
“That’s part of it, but my wife came here for research. She’s often away on business trips, so I accompany her whenever she returns.”
“Oh, your wife must be a scholar.”
“She is. And she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

That was an unnecessary addition. The devoted husband vibes were already starting to waft through.

Since we were already talking, I figured I might as well ask some of the questions I’d always had about Eiker.

From what I’d learned so far, he wasn’t as serious or reserved as I’d initially thought. He was a patriot who loved Alvenheim deeply.

And unlike the stereotypical handsome elf, he had the rugged appearance of a Viking warrior, which only piqued my curiosity further.

“Do you know how you’re portrayed in most records?”
“Of course. But most accounts focus on the events themselves, which I find disappointing. At least they detail the council’s blunders in full.”
“Between then and now, which council was worse?”
“The only good pointy-eared bastards are dead ones. Not that it matters anymore—they’ve all been rounded up.”

His deep voice, combined with such sharp and chilling words, had a different kind of impact.

If words could carry weight, his certainly did. His hatred for the council was palpable.

“There’s something I don’t quite understand. May I ask you about it?”
“Go ahead. It’s been 300 years since the Species War. The council is gone, and all I have left now is time.”

Eiker’s straightforward response eased my hesitation.

Given the traumatic nature of the topic, I’d been unsure whether to ask, but it seemed he had let go of most of his resentment.

Still, the council’s actions made me marvel at their absurdity. To think they had imprisoned someone like Eiker simply for violating their laws.

“Was the Human Alliance really that strong? Even if they united, I can’t imagine Alvenheim being defeated so easily.”
“May I ask why you think so?”
“Alvenheim is a land of abundance, flowing with milk and honey. It’s not only self-sufficient but prosperous enough to supply food to the entire world. Not to mention the elves’ strength.”

Wars typically lead to destruction, but defending is usually easier than attacking. And when the defending nation is as wealthy and militarily powerful as Alvenheim?

It would be like trying to break through an impregnable fortress. No matter how strong the Human Alliance was, even with the demons teaching them magic, there had to be limits.

From Alvenheim’s perspective, focusing on defense alone should have been enough. So why had they ended up signing such unfavorable terms?

Even with Eiker’s imprisonment due to the council’s meddling, their defeat still felt inexplicable.

“Did Alvenheim truly fall apart on its own?”
“Yes, Alvenheim destroyed itself. The price of underestimating humans was far too great.”
“Were humans that strong back then?”
“By my standards, no, they weren’t. But they were cunning and ruthless. They fought… like bastards.”
“… …”

For a moment, I doubted my ears. Did I hear that correctly? Such crude language coming from someone with such a dignified appearance.

Hearing curses from a legendary hero who fought during the Species War made the words hit twice as hard.

Moreover, Eiker's expression was deadly serious. It wasn’t an exaggeration—humans really must have fought in the "dirtiest" way imaginable.

He folded his arms, as if recalling the past, and began to vividly recount the events.

"It was a grueling fight, truly. Knowing they couldn’t win in a fair confrontation, they resorted to every underhanded tactic imaginable. They used catapults to fling barrels filled with filth and rotting corpses into our camps—it was a common occurrence. They even set traps specifically designed to exploit elven pride, luring our warriors into them. Most who fell for such traps met grim fates."
"Uh… That’s… quite something. Was there ever a time they fought honorably?"
"There were plenty of times they fought dishonorably with conviction."

What kind of strategy is "dishonorably with conviction"? The more I listened, the more human tactics seemed both ingenious and revolting.

Yet, at the same time, I could understand. Facing elves head-on wasn’t a viable option, so they used every possible method to gain the upper hand.

After all, in war, there’s no reason to hold back. Victory is the only goal.

"But the humans must have suffered heavy losses too, right?"
"At the start of the war, yes. When we bombarded them with magic, they were helpless, cut down without resistance. But once they learned magic from the demons, they began to fight back. That’s when they started challenging us with confidence."
"How did you learn that demons taught humans magic? That’s not a widely known fact, even in the historical records."

Before Cecily told me, I’d also believed that humans had learned magic from elves. That’s how secretive this transfer of knowledge had been.

Had it been publicly acknowledged, the backlash would have been catastrophic. At the time, demons were seen as nothing more than public enemies.

Still, Cecily had mentioned that the demons were compensated for their efforts, making it a mutually beneficial arrangement.

"Ah, that information? My lieutenant infiltrated the humans and discovered it. The demons were teaching humans magic. Of course, the council didn’t believe it."
"Why not? That alone could have been enough to turn public opinion."
"Do you think those pointy-eared fools knew what public opinion was? Even if they did, they were convinced of an inevitable victory. These are the same people who got scammed in the peace treaty—what would they understand?"
"Excuse me?"

Scammed? What was he talking about? I blinked in surprise, my curiosity piqued.

According to records, Alvenheim had negotiated a humiliating treaty with the Human Alliance to end the war.

While opinions vary on why the treaty was signed, it’s clear that Alvenheim initiated the negotiations.

The Human Alliance had seized the opportunity, and without that treaty, the war likely would have continued indefinitely.

"What do you mean by scammed? This is the first I’ve heard of it."
"Do you know the details of the treaty?"
"Yes. For the next 200 years, Alvenheim was to provide the Human Alliance with food, magic, mana techniques, and knowledge. This marked the beginning of humanity’s golden age."
"They waived all tariffs."

I blinked at his answer, then let out a dry laugh. Just the food trade alone would have carried substantial tariffs, and yet they were all waived.

As Eiker said, it was practically a national-level scam. The Human Alliance must have used their unity to easily acquire most of Alvenheim’s resources.

“So they lost in diplomacy.”

Thinking back, the historical records rarely mention victories on the battlefield. Instead, they focus on the humiliating terms of the treaty, which amounted to a loss.

It’s easy to dismiss all elves as fools, but it’s important to remember that Alvenheim was, at the time, a "frog in a well."

Only after seeing humanity’s rapid development over time did they likely realize their mistake.

Alvenheim’s arrogance, combined with their self-destruction and humanity’s cunning strategies, had culminated in their humiliation.

Factor in the tenfold difference in lifespans, and the complexities of the war only deepen.

"Hearing this directly from someone who lived it gives me a new perspective. No wonder Alvenheim lost in such a strange way."
"Lost, indeed. As a human, you might not want to hear this, but fighting humans was like being swarmed by a pack of wolves. Even seasoned elven knights couldn’t keep up. And among them were individuals who truly stood out, causing us great losses."
"Haha."

As I chuckled at his candid reply, Eiker gazed at me thoughtfully before speaking again.

"Now that I think about it, there’s something I’d like to ask you. May I?"
"Huh? Oh, sure, go ahead."
"What do you think Alvenheim’s future holds?"

Despite being betrayed by his country, Eiker was still a patriot at heart. His question was weighty, but I answered without hesitation.

"Only brighter days ahead. As long as Arwen is on the throne."
"Hm… That’s an answer I can easily agree with. With you around, there’s no risk of political instability either."
"And what about you, Eiker? Do you have any plans? Perhaps…"

I trailed off, about to ask if he planned to return to military service. But before I could finish, Eiker shook his head.

Even though the council that had plagued him was gone, it seemed he had no intention of returning.

"I laid down my sword 300 years ago. My position has long since been filled by another warrior. Returning now would only create confusion."
"That’s a shame. You’d be a great asset to the country."
"Haha, you’re quite direct about wanting me to come back. Well, unless demons like in Zenon’s Biography appear, I won’t be picking up a sword again. I’ve decided to enjoy the rest of my life."

Though his words were carefree, they felt fitting. It was an answer worthy of a patriot.

If I had met him sooner, the character based on him might have turned out less pessimistic.

The character in Zenon’s Biography was depicted with a rather cynical worldview, after all.

Just as Eiker and I were engrossed in our conversation—

"Darling, I’ve found all the documents—oh?"
"Hm?"

An all-too-familiar voice reached my ears. I stopped talking with Eiker and turned my head.

What I saw made my eyes widen in surprise.

A strikingly familiar face.

A beautiful woman with light green hair tied back, wearing glasses that gave her an intellectual aura.

Her slender figure was elegantly highlighted by a black suit.

"…Professor Elena?"
"Isaac? What are you doing here—oh, that’s right, you mentioned you’d be coming."

It was my history professor and mentor, Elena. Upon seeing me, her eyes widened briefly before she nodded in understanding.

But more importantly, what had she just said a moment ago?

I quickly turned back to Eiker, who was now pursing his lips in amusement, clearly entertained by the situation.

"Well, isn’t this a curious coincidence? The pupil Elena spoke so highly of was you? You truly are remarkable, as she said."
"Uh… yes. But wait, is she really…"
"My lovely wife."
"Honestly! Do you have to say that in front of him?"

Elena lightly tapped Eiker’s shoulder, blushing in embarrassment. It was a stark contrast to her usual composed, scholarly demeanor.

But there was something even more pressing on my mind. I began calculating Elena’s age.

As part of the newer generation of elves, she certainly wouldn’t be over 300 years old. In fact, she had once mentioned being around 200 years old.

"Um… Eiker, may I ask how old you are?"
"This year marks my 681st spring."
"… …"
"What’s with that expression?"

He’s a cradle robber.