―Kwaooong!
A deafening sound. A flashing light falling from above. Phey watched as a sun burning brightly against the encroaching night illuminated the distant horizon.
It was a scene akin to dragging the sun down to the earth’s surface.
Surging flames hissed as they spread in all directions, and every tree they touched turned pitch black, crumbling into ash.
What was flying around was death and calamity.
While the elves stifled their breath, wiped away tears, or cowered in fear, covering their ears, Phey stared at the sight as if entranced.
The flame embedded in Phey’s indigo-purple eyes. The sun blazing with golden hues. Though it was unexpected, this sight reminded Phey of something.
A golden wheat field.
The moment Phey was being dragged away by the slave merchant while crossing that wheat field.
The first time Phey stepped out into the world and faced malevolence.
Upon further reflection, Phey had always been a special existence from the very beginning.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say Phey wasn’t like an elf since birth.
While others were bound to be rejected for being different, the other elves, who were wise beings, neither criticized nor ostracized Phey for their uniqueness, so there weren’t many issues.
Phey also didn’t particularly feel any problems.
By observing other elves, Phey could clearly understand how to act like one and even mimic them accordingly.
Of course, setting aside the fact that all of this was merely a facade…
If you look beyond this pretense, Phey’s essence was emptiness.
In reality, Phey thought elves themselves were rather hollow beings.
Elves experienced fewer desires or cravings.
They barely satisfied the basic elements of life.
Firstly, elves don’t feel hunger. They can survive without eating or drinking, relying solely on the vitality of nature.
Elves don’t need rest. As long as they can touch the ground, they can live without sleeping for their entire lives.
Elves don’t age, and unless killed, they don’t die. Even when killed, it’s quite difficult to take the life of an elf.
Their creative regeneration makes the concept of loss seem like a ridiculous joke.
Not eating, not sleeping, not resting…
Not aging, not dying…
Thus, elves are inherently empty beings.
They lacked desires and cravings.
All they possessed was goodwill and kindness.
Phey’s uniqueness lay within this context.
Phey was even more hollow than the others.
There was no goodwill or kindness present.
Just a more apathetic and expressionless elf.
So even when Phey was being dragged away by the slave merchant, or when the other elves were laughing innocently, Phey couldn’t help but wear a skeptical expression.
When something inevitably went wrong, Phey didn’t make any futile attempts to stop fights or violence.
While the other elves cried or tried hard to prevent conflicts by pleading “Don’t fight,” Phey simply observed quietly.
It was then that Phey saw someone.
A man who offered to pay a price for elves he didn’t know, only to be refused and ultimately ended up engaging in a sword fight. That man was Aslan.
Aslan eventually killed the slave merchants and freed the elves with a deeply troubled expression.
Most of the freed elves returned home, back to the land of the elves, but Phey did not.
Phey followed Aslan.
The initial impulse for this decision is something the current Phey doesn’t remember. After all, Phey cannot empathize even with their past self.
The only certainty is that Phey traveled the world with Aslan.
Through this journey, Phey learned…
That they were special…
Unique among elves…
That unlike other elves, Phey lacked a certain fervor…
That even if the same memories, experiences, and skills were given to other elves, Phey could never be replicated…
That Phey fought because of their uniqueness…
Thus, the reason Phey became a fighting elf was trivial…
There wasn’t much cause behind the change…
However, the path taken after the transformation wasn’t without purpose…
Phey met many people with Aslan…
Traveled the world…
Fought priests…
Witnessed the remnants of once-great civilizations…
After seeing all of this, Phey returned with Aslan to their hometown.
And upon returning home, Phey realized…
That elves couldn’t fight…
Even if given weapons now, they wouldn’t be able to do what must be done…
These elves, driven only by goodwill and kindness, would drop their weapons, go to plead with the priests, or flee…
Glancing at the elves, whose only clear fear was that of hostility and malice, Phey sighed, understanding everything.
When the elves looked curiously at Phey’s sigh, Phey lowered their head and gazed at the short swords.
Two short swords found deep within the ancient ruins during Phey’s first exploration with Aslan…
Dawn and Dusk…
With crimson blades, Phey firmly grasped these two short swords and drew them.
There was no trace of fear, hunger, or goodwill in Phey’s expression…
Only resolution existed…
‘This is something… only I can do.’
Phey thought…
‘Something only I can do.’
A sense of duty emerged…
‘Something no other elf can do, something only Phey the elf can do…’
Holding the two drawn swords, Phey turned their back to the elves and said…
“Stay here.”
It was a quiet voice, not much different from the voices of the elves…
Yet, it sounded somehow different…
The elves, who had crouched trembling, looked up at the girl and asked…
“Where are you going? It’s dangerous over there…”
Without looking back, Phey replied while staring at the flames…
“To fight.”
The determination in that voice was unmistakable…
Heavy with the realization of their duty, the girl’s voice resonated with the same emotion Aslan harbored…
As that emotion flowed through her voice, a warm breeze blew…
As the wind wrapped around Phey, something invisible appeared in Phey’s eyes…
[Phey]
[Level: 5]
[Remaining Stat Points: 12]
[Strength 2] [Agility 7] [Health 2]
[Mana 1] [Spirit 2] [Luck 5]
*
Kwagagagagaga!
A thunderous roar. A heat wave sweeping the surroundings. The massive plasma descending was, in short, an attack of injustice.
Even Ereta would have depleted most of her divine power if hit directly, and Angie’s excellent health wouldn’t have been enough to withstand such an attack.
Richard’s compliance alone wouldn’t suffice to deflect it due to its sheer size and power. Since it wasn’t a physical attack, even that wouldn’t work properly.
Thus, the survival of the traveling party was entirely thanks to the actions of one man.
First, containment. Create a barrier using telekinesis. While we might not withstand it, trapping the plasma so it doesn’t escape is sufficient.
Create such a barrier to focus the plasma on oneself.
Next, handling. Aslan grabbed the Dragon King’s arm.
Recalling the Dragon King spewing plasma as breath, this plasma likely wouldn’t melt the Dragon King’s arm.
Then it could be blocked. Aslan threw a punch.
Kugugugugugu!
As a massive flame swept and billowed around, allies were sent flying. The plasma sweeping the ground created another barrier outside ours.
Our telekinetically-created barrier shattered instantly.
In the brief moment our allies were pushed back, what protected Aslan’s body was the innate ability he used instinctively: Thunder Call.
The thunder sound drowned out by the intense rupture.
The accompanying shockwave reduced and dispersed the plasma’s power, allowing Aslan’s body to endure.
This was, in short, Aslan’s best possible move.
The only viable countermeasure available with his current means.
Even so, the damage was severe, but the choice itself was excellent.
Aslan’s skin burned, peeled off, and his lungs sizzled from the heat, but thanks to the fire resistance, the dragon king’s skin acting as armor, and the newly acquired purity-based regeneration, he could endure.
While burnt skin peeled off and new skin grew, Aslan thought…
Not expecting to withstand the next plasma attack unscathed…
Uncertain if he could endure as well as this time…
As Aslan’s cyan-green eyes turned toward the chimera, the chimera tilted its head and screamed…
“Aaaaaaaa―!”
A shrill female scream. Soon after, the chimera flipped its body and rushed vertically toward Aslan.
Aiming dozens of plasma spears downward, it looked less like a meteor and more like a sun plunging into the ground…
The goal was obvious: to crush Aslan…
To kill Aslan first during the brief period when allies couldn’t approach…
Since the isolation wouldn’t last long, this judgment was correct…
The chimera had seized the opportunity to fly…
Aslan noticed this and clenched his teeth, stretching the pure blade behind him…
Gripping the long hilt with both hands and lowering his stance, he prepared for a counterattack…
Instant death upon contact with plasma. Severe injuries if blocking the plasma with purity. Subsequent death from the dozens of spears following…
Thus, it was better to prepare for a fatal blow and end it in one strike…
The success rate was low. But has there ever been a fight where it wasn’t?
Aslan planned to use Equalization the moment he was slashed by plasma, while the chimera approached rapidly. Just as the gap quickly closed…
“What?”
Aslan hesitated momentarily upon seeing the system window suddenly appearing before him…
That confusion, the slight shift in pupils. The chimera detected this signal and accelerated even more…
Already visible only as golden streaks. The spears aimed at Aslan. Ignoring them, Aslan focused on what appeared before his eyes…
Facing the surging heat winds, Aslan thought…
‘Should I respond? Or…’
Ultimately, the deliberation ended. Aslan swiped the air with his hand. The distance had closed; there was less than 2 meters left until impact…
But there was no sign of anxiety on Aslan’s face.
Currently, Aslan’s level is 10.
The realm of genuine superhuman capability.
If a companion were to join such an Aslan, their level would be 5.
And if a Level 1 NPC becomes a Level 5 companion, they gain 12 stat points.
Aslan allocated these points: 9 to Agility, 3 to Health.
Under normal circumstances, these stats wouldn’t be efficient.
Stats effective for a tank based on evasion. Insufficient to resolve the current situation.
To efficiently utilize these stats, it would require one of two things:
A player of the warrior class who already possesses a perfect physique with balanced strength and agility…
Or an elf…
An elf who can use Agility stats instead of Strength stats…
Thus, Aslan’s choice was correct…
Aeeeeeek!
A sound like an arrow whistling through the air. Scarlet lightning splitting the air. Before the chimera could stab Aslan with its spear, the bolt twisted its body and swung its sword in an instant.
Kagagagagang!
Attacks coming so fast there wasn’t even time to take a single breath. Striking the plasma-wielding arm, pushing it away, slicing through chest armor, cutting the waist, tearing the neck, and striking the head.
An attack so swift it gave the chimera no time to react, counter, or continue its thrust…
The speed was extremely fast…
Even faster than Angie, who, with her perfect physique, had achieved an agility of approximately 15…
As the blade grazed the chimera, it turned its body and prepared to reverse its spear, but the rotation stopped…
The immense amount of sparks flying everywhere. The split armor…
Before the chimera could even scream, after several slashes that sounded like one, Phey halted their rotation, spun their body, and delivered a kick…
Ujijijik, Ppyeok!
The powerful kick landed squarely on the head, tilting the chimera’s neck as its body was hurled away…
Kung, Kung, Kurrrr, Kwaaaang!
The chimera’s body crashed into and broke an ancient tree before stopping…
Amidst the rising dust, the girl stood tall where the chimera had flown…
People called this girl…
The fighting elf…
The veteran of swords…
Phey…
Phey, reborn as Aslan’s true companion, was the first being to transcend the realm of superhumans without the hand of an evil deity, reaching the quasi-divine state…
Possessing the speed of a quasi-divine being, Phey clashed the twin blades…
Kaang!
As the metallic clang echoed and the dusk and dawn embraced flames, the elf smirked slightly.
