Chapter 208

“This situation… ain’t nothin’ we can just accept without question, ya know?”

“So what the heck are we supposed to do about it?”

Three high elf councilors continued their meeting in a dimly lit room.

“Isn’t the reason we handed over full authority to him because of the hints dropped by the Elders and the Ancients?”

“…And even so, you’re suggesting we go back on our word now?”

“Is there even a need to change course?”

“…Hah! So you’re really going down that road, huh?”

They were deliberately leaving out the subject in their conversation.

“The reason we’ve lost dominance over many races, including humans, is because we lack the same ambition.”

“…Ambition, huh?”

“How much barbaric and cruel tyranny have those other races indulged in thanks to that so-called ambition? Just because we’ve fallen behind, does that mean we must mimic their savagery? Do we truly need to do so?”

“In order to maintain peace and stability, we cannot afford to neglect sharpening our arrows.”

“But…”

“We were once rulers of the continent. But look at us now! We’re treated like some foolish race stuck on the fringes, showing off for no good reason. This is all wrong—completely and utterly wrong.”

“…”

One councilor whispered with a meaningful tone.

“Let’s use this opportunity to announce our re-emergence onto the continent, gather our scattered kin, and unite them. Let’s proclaim to the world what we truly stand for. If we reveal our true intentions, the world will surely bow before us.”

This councilor, along with the queen and another councilor, was one of those who had meticulously studied the memories of Carriel from another world—the great war deity, the supreme conqueror, and the dark ruler known as the greatest and worst victor of all time.

A faint but ominous madness gleamed in his eyes, unsettling the others present and filling the air with an oppressive aura.

“We can become greater than we are now. Choosing not to act when we can is nothing short of laziness, negligence, and pure sin.”

Under the name of the sacred tree and our ancestors…

“Let’s show the world what we can transform into when we, who have always cherished peace, prepare for and brace ourselves for war.”

His voice carried an unknown echo.

An echo that stirred desire, filled voids, and stitched together cracks forcibly—an echo both ferocious and deep.

“The uprising will be in four days. Based on their insulting acts of sacrilege, we shall rise up.”

And thus, as the sun and moon rose and set several times…

That day finally arrived.

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Ardissus may be vast due to its forests, woodlands, and the World Tree, but its actual residential area occupies only a tiny fraction of the entire forest.

Especially buildings with distinct purposes, such as castles and palaces, rarely undergo unnecessary expansions or enlargements. Still, their immense size can be attributed to centuries of accumulation and preservation.

Even thousands of years ago, this place served as a grand square, sometimes as a central training ground, and during festivals, as a public banquet hall. It was surrounded on three sides by the temple of the Sacred Tree, the Elder’s Palace, and the King’s Palace, all facing the World Tree.

Though it might seem open centrally, reaching the opposite or diagonal buildings requires considerable distance. Therefore, while the temple located directly at the entrance is easily accessible, the Elder’s Palace and the King’s Palace on either side are relatively more heavily guarded.

On this particular day, the security was unusually tight.

Elves prefer light armor, but they aren’t strangers to heavy armor either. In forest combat, heavy armor is often less advantageous unless the wearer excels in close-quarters or melee battles. Light armor suits the agile nature of elves who climb trees, move organically, and engage in coordinated sniper attacks.

Moreover, if the trees themselves start moving to repel intruders, and occasionally tree spirits awaken to wreak havoc, the battlefield itself transforms into a living enemy and hostile weapon. This renders conventional warfare nearly impossible.

Even Karrielle, known as the great war deity from another world, refrained from direct invasion, instead opting for a long-term strategy of burning the forest on all fronts. Even this method proved ineffective due to weather manipulation magic.

“There sure are a lot of them.”

The hill where the temple stands, reachable by climbing 333 steps, offers a panoramic view of the square and its approaches. While normally anyone can ascend or descend, on days like this, only those with proper clearance are allowed.

Sitting on one of these steps to catch his breath and looking down, a sense of nostalgia washed over him.

“Considering we announced this gathering and festival ten days ago, if the news reached everyone, all our kindred in Ardissus must have gathered here by now.”

From somewhere nearby, Remira, clad in silver-plated armor and a horned helmet, casually informed Karrielle:

“A festival, huh? For something called that, the preparations seem kinda excessive, don’t they?”

“There are different kinds of festivals.”

“Are there?”

No official announcement was made regarding what exactly would happen. Perhaps the purpose was to increase participation by using the festival as a cover to spread the word among the populace.

Thinking about it, he’d been here quite a while now. Occasionally summoned for various festivals, none of them were overly consumerist or hedonistic like human ones.

Rather, they seemed to serve as regular opportunities to share news and updates about each other’s lives. Sometimes they also pooled labor to tackle large tasks.

“Everyone seems pretty tense. Maybe we don’t know the whole story, but still…”

“Something’s bound to happen. Can’t be helped, but keep it in mind.”

“In mind?”

Remira sighed.

“Not growing your hair out must be because of that helmet, huh?”

“How did you guess?”

“That tradition goes way back. Even in ancient times, there were instances where people shaved their heads or styled elaborate hairstyles to accommodate helmets. Even today, during battle periods, many warriors shave their heads clean for better helmet fit.”

“True. Your knights are especially sensitive about that stuff.”

“You can grow your hair out and wear a helmet, but it gets uncomfortable. The hair moves around, sweat builds up—it’s inconvenient. And if your hair obstructs your vision, it can block the already narrow visor.”

“Hmm?”

“It’s not like your face-covering helmets with openings for the mouth, eyes, and nose.”

Thus, despite wearing helmets, one could still identify individuals with sharp enough perception.

“Oof!”

Karrielle stood up after getting up from sitting on the steps.

“Be careful.”

“…Judging by your warning, something’s definitely gonna kick off today, huh?”

“That’s how I planned it. Some things are unavoidable.”

Karrielle tapped his forehead.

“We aim to save everyone, but monsters aren’t included in that.”

“Monsters?”

Karrielle muttered strangely, “These seeds of my unworthiness!”, then began inspecting the flashy yet somewhat suffocating attire of approaching High Elves, sticking out his tongue.

“I don’t recall asking to be born.”

“Huh?”

Remira looked puzzled. What was he talking about?

“Did I beg from the depths to be pulled up? Did I plead to be molded from sand and dirt? To be created?”

“Hey, why are you saying such things…”

Karrielle didn’t stop speaking. He even spun around while standing.

“May you stand there forever. For only eternity existed before you.”

It wasn’t a song. More like reciting verses, almost like psalms. Unlike the scriptures or holy texts he usually referenced, it felt completely different.

He spread his arms wide, uttering strange words.

“Whoever passes through me shall find the thread of salvation.”

Finally, he clasped his hands together and murmured softly,

“Take all hopes within my conception, every living hope.”

“…”

Leaning her head slightly, Remira asked,

“What’s with all this?”

“Just giving small comfort gifts to those with keen ears.”

“???”

“To those passing me, eternal joy awaits. To those passing me, they will finally enter the city of rejoicing, albeit reluctantly.”

“…”

Shaking her head, Remira thought: Occasionally, rather frequently actually…

“When humans reach that age, do they become more sensitive? Full of imagination?”

“We call that romanticism. Childhood dreams and hopes overflow with romance.”

“And when that diminishes, their lives fall straight to the bottom.”

What they considered burdens were actually…

The very foundations making them who they are.

Once stripped away, what remains?

“Becoming smarter doesn’t mean moving further away from foolishness.”

“…”

“The biggest ailment affecting your kind right now is that.”

When success, challenges, and attempts seem impossible…

The smarter and more knowledgeable they become, the more these thoughts pile up.

They wield the shield of wisdom to stay comfortable.

“Sure, avoiding failure and mistakes is possible.”

Because they never attempt anything risky.

“So inevitably, they end up backed against a cliff. Gods, the World Tree… anyone or anything else.”

“Karrielle?”

“What they seek isn’t worshippers. They’ve always been assistants, understanding partners, or companions.”

Or perhaps…

Something even greater.

But knowing and understanding that doesn’t solve anything.

So I…

‘Even proving things has to be done differently from others.’

I don’t know myself.

What I truly want to do, pursue, or aspire to isn’t clear.

Not what the world assigns to me.

But accumulated experiences pushing me forward, compelling emotions, desires, and everything else.

Truly, deeply, what I wish to pursue.

In this life, what I absolutely, solely wish to do.

Something only I can accomplish.

Tiriliring―

A long, lingering, delicate sound gently spread far and wide, caressing everyone’s ears like a soft breeze. Its resonance lasted for a while.

After dozens of seconds passed, it happened again. Once more.

Most of the hundred seats prepared were filled except for a few. The queen, dressed in a gown woven with white silk and silver mesh, gracefully descended from the upper temple building toward their direction.

On the pristine white floor,

patterns of gold and silver formed continuous illustrations, guiding her path step by step.

As she approached the podium, everyone seated stood up as if following a set procedure. Karrielle, meanwhile, waited nearby at the base of the podium.

Just before passing him, the queen glanced sideways and asked,

“Have you waited long?”

“It was brief.”

With his hand on his chest, Karrielle bowed slightly.

“Well then…”

The moment the queen stepped onto the podium, high elves kneeling nearby began casting spirit spells. The space rippled, the wind blew, and a wave of green light surged.

“In the name of the Sacred Tree and our ancestors, honoring the bountiful god and protectors of the forest, upholding the legacy and glory of those who came before, I, Queen Dianaikis of the Green Ash Tree, declare to you all an undeniable truth.”

Though spoken softly, her voice resonated clearly and powerfully throughout the gathering.

Thus amplifying her message through silence and pause, the queen spoke again.

“It is simply this…”

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