Night descended, and the moon rose, illuminating a group of people.
The elongated shadows, divided by the moonlight and fire into several chaotic forms, held an inexplicable sense of comfort within their disorder.
The serene calmness that could only be tasted during camping. It was a leisure that ordinary civilians or mercenaries traveling with the party wouldn’t be able to feel.
In that leisure, a certain red-scaled dragon-person let out a sound close to a sigh.
“…Turning into an elf?”
“Yeah.”
Tiamat’s voice carried tones of curiosity and astonishment.
Since Tiamat knew well what kind of race elves were, her reaction, though seemingly simple, was filled with shock.
It wasn’t unreasonable, but Richard also seemed puzzled as he asked awkwardly soon after.
“Does turning into an elf really not cause any problems?”
“Problems like what?”
“Well, you know… like if the body can’t handle it and dies, or if the person themselves changes entirely…”
“That won’t happen. The person will just… become an elf while staying exactly who they are.”
Elves are creatures of nature and creation, a race without reproductive abilities.
Moreover, they all appear as young girls, a characteristic of the race.
There is no gender distinction; if anything, they are all female.
Through their feet touching the ground, they can regenerate infinitely and continue regenerating unless mortally wounded.
They don’t need to eat, sleep, or rest, making them nearly immortal.
Thus, hearing the idea of becoming an elf would naturally seem beneficial.
Indeed, Richard appeared serious, likely because it sounded that way to him too.
He seemed worried about whether his fiancée Maria would maintain her status after her father, King Gerald, became an elf.
However, there was no need for such worry.
Aslan willingly offered this reward, and given that Aslan didn’t have much time left, there was a reason why he wouldn’t revoke it.
To put it simply, the elf transformation reward was a trap.
In the game, it was considered one of the rewards treated as a trap.
The reason lay in the habits of elves.
With the exception of Phey, whose freedom wasn’t entirely intact either, these habits were ingrained.
Elves, children of nature and creation, born from its essence, typically have extremely benevolent and peaceful personalities under normal circumstances.
They easily trust others, cannot doubt others, and take joy in bringing happiness to others as if it were their own mission.
Naturally, their tendency to struggle is suppressed.
It’s no surprise that Phey is called the fighting elf; since the inception of elves, Phey has been the only one capable of fighting.
For this reason, in the game, elf transformation led directly to an ending.
An ominous ending where divine power was abandoned, and one happily lived as one of the elves in their land until meeting their demise.
This was something Aslan wouldn’t benefit from.
Therefore, Aslan readily gave up this reward.
Shaking his head reassuringly at Richard’s dubious expression, Richard absentmindedly scratched his cheek without changing his expression.
The flickering campfire tried to cast a shadow over his face, but due to Richard’s unique dull aura, there was hardly any effect.
Aslan glanced at Richard’s dull face before picking up a log at his feet and thrusting it deep into the campfire.
“Isn’t Aslan hot?”
The hand covered in black scales looked more like a dragon-person’s hand than a human’s.
Despite entering and exiting the fire, there was not a single trace of scorching, causing the elf with deep red hair draped over Aslan’s knees to open her eyes and grab his wrist.
“Yeah, it’s not hot.”
“Amazing. Can Phey touch it?”
Though asking for permission, a tiny hand immediately began creeping towards it.
Letting it happen, the small elf girl embraced the black-scaled hand and played with it before nuzzling her cheek against it.
“It’s sturdy.”
A faint laugh escaped. When Aslan slightly smiled by raising the corners of his lips, Phey closed her eyes while keeping her cheek pressed against the Dragon King’s hand.
Although elves don’t need sleep, the mysterious actions of the elf girl who pretended to sleep when the party slept and ate with them went unnoticed by Aslan, who had no intention of interfering.
Lifting his head late, Aslan noticed the rest of the party. Except for Richard, who slept little, and Tiamat, who volunteered for watch duty, all the women were deeply asleep, breathing softly in various colors.
The old man who should have been present was missing, and Aslan regretfully thought of the empty spot.
As Aslan’s gaze aimlessly swept over the vacant place, the youth leaning against the pile of luggage spoke.
“So, exactly what do you plan to do?”
“What?”
“After we arrive in Tebery, I mean.”
Hearing the name Tebery, Aslan momentarily looked up at the sky.
Without the cold chill of Netchagni, the sky was clear yet filled with a gentle humidity.
It had been two weeks since the party left Netchagni, and they were now in an unnamed forest within the Vida Kingdom’s territory.
Not far away existed the marsh forest with the Sanctuary of Sorrow. Due to the recent rain, the grass was damp, and Aslan smiled faintly at the vivid sensation on his hands as he brushed it off.
“We’ll need to board a ship first, I suppose.”
At the mention of boarding a ship, Tiamat turned pale, but Aslan paid no attention.
Tebery, also known as the Shadowless King, was a brilliant kingdom situated on an island.
Thanks to advanced magic technology and Belus-level engineering skills, the island was always bathed in bright light.
King Gerald, ruler of the Vida Kingdom, would surely be waiting for Aslan’s party in the deepest palace of that kingdom.
Thinking that securing passage would be the priority, Aslan continued,
“No, I mean… What will we do after meeting the king? And how will we leave? That sort of thing.”
That wasn’t what Richard intended to say, so he shook his head and explained quickly.
“I think he might want to take one or two of us hostage… We need a contingency plan for that.”
“Would a king of a nation really do that?”
Tiamat’s surprised voice. Wrapped in a cloak, the dragon-person asked, but Richard shook his head again.
“No, rather, because he’s a king of a nation. I… know a bit about him.”
“You do?”
When both Tiamat’s and Aslan’s gazes turned toward Richard, he nodded with a somewhat troubled expression.
“He’s the one who killed my mother.”
Richard’s mother, who died during a power struggle, was a warrior from the Varmanz clan.
Even if indirectly, it wasn’t surprising that the root of that struggle was King Gerald.
Looking into Richard’s gray eyes tinged with faint hatred, Aslan sighed and wiped his face.
Unexpected information.
“Anyway… Since I know he’ll definitely do that, we need to prepare…”
“I already know.”
Though it was information he already possessed.
At Richard’s curious expression, Aslan briefly explained.
“I once took on a commission from King Gerald.”
His gaze momentarily dropped, then glanced toward Ereta, curled up and asleep not far from the campfire.
Her translucent skin and snow-white hair. The pure white that clung messily to her skin.
There was likely some connection, but Aslan had no intention of blaming anyone.
It was already common knowledge that priests targeted Aslan.
But Aslan could vividly recall the events just by looking at Ereta’s face.
Giant spiders blocking all exits and setting fires. Fanatics riding those spiders and axe-wielding priests.
If Phey hadn’t been there, it would’ve been hard to survive, but with Phey’s help, Aslan managed to kill the priest and escape.
“Gerald sold me out to the inevitability of the universe near the end of the commission. He didn’t even give me the promised reward. I’ve known he’s cunning ever since.”
“True, it was troublesome.”
Suddenly speaking with opened eyes, Phey’s indigo eyes showed no emotion. To the elf girl, the past was merely the past, unable to evoke empathy.
“Will he do the same this time?”
Suddenly turning her head and asking, Aslan stroked his chin with his empty hand before nodding.
“Yes, but this time he won’t be so overt.”
That incident happened because the force of the inevitability of the universe was still strong.
Now that the forces have weakened significantly, a large-scale ambush like before wouldn’t be possible.
“But he might still try to take hostages.”
“Then shouldn’t we do something about it?”
Richard’s flustered voice. He seemed unable to understand Aslan’s nonchalant response.
“There’s always a way. You don’t need to worry too much.”
Richard still wore a concerned expression, but when Tiamat waved her hand, his head instinctively turned.
“Don’t worry too much. This guy has only been wrong or messed up once when he talks confidently.”
Undoubtedly referring to the incident of the Veil of Mercy when heading towards the city of wizards, Aslan quickly changed the subject.
While drawing Richard’s attention back, Aslan spoke.
“Anyway, after that, it’s simple. We escape, go to the elven land, and retrieve the seed of elf transformation.”
As if to reassure Richard, who nodded hesitantly, Aslan continued.
“But Phey feels a bit disappointed.”
Suddenly, Phey, who had been resting her head on Aslan’s lap, spoke.
The unexpected comment drew the attention of the three awake members to Phey, who grinned mischievously.
“I want to feed it to Aslan.”
“The seed.”
The seed of elf transformation.
It was essentially saying she wanted to turn Aslan into an elf, leaving Aslan perplexed as he uttered an “Eh?”
Perhaps because Aslan’s lifespan was nearing its end? Thinking that, Aslan looked down at the elf girl, but Phey, using Aslan’s arm as a pillow, smirked with her lips curved upwards.
Her indigo eyes reflected a near obsession. Smiling with that obsession, the girl giggled.
The elf girl, with her crimson-like red hair falling over her shoulders, buried her mouth in the blanket and mumbled.
“If Aslan becomes an elf, Phey can play forever with him!”
Though many things would come to an end, Phey didn’t seem to care much.
It seemed like a joke, but it wasn’t entirely.
Aslan clearly heard Phey refer to herself as “I,” a tone the elf girl only used when completely sincere.
Uncertain of how to respond, Aslan hesitated, and the elf girl slightly turned her body to look up at him.
The swirling black emotions in her indigo eyes made beads of cold sweat trickle down Aslan’s forehead. Realizing this belatedly, Aslan forced a smile. With an awkward grin, he patted Phey’s head and said,
“…No, I’ll pass.”
Because, while it might make him happy in some ways, Aslan didn’t want to find happiness in that direction.
Phey pouted adorably and smiled, and the night eventually faded.
The next day, the party reached Wearbird Fortress, where they would find passage to Tebery.
