With the elven girl seed in hand, the traveling party headed straight south.
Finally, after escaping the thick snow and fog, when traces of people began to appear sparsely, the group descended toward Tebery.
In that forest, a red and thick tail swayed gently from a low position, and its owner grinned widely while rubbing their cheek against the bowstock.
The sight of a towering giant at 2.5 meters doing this delivered an odd feeling to those who witnessed it.
Perhaps because it was the first time seeing Tiamat so delighted.
A woman with golden eyes spoke.
“I’m annoyed…”
Thus came the teasing. It wasn’t really scolding but rather a voice filled with jest or familiarity.
So the Tiamat rubbing her cheek against the bowstock replied with a laugh as if the previous melancholy had never existed.
“You should understand! A warrior can’t help but get excited upon obtaining fine weapons! You must have felt the same way, right?”
“I don’t know much about that.”
The woman, Angie, responded thus while urging them onward, though in truth, her words lacked much persuasion.
She was still wearing boots made from dragon leather and cherished them greatly.
It was merely pride that made her pretend otherwise. Tiamat, knowing this, chuckled while stroking his chin scales, and Lumel walking beside him also smiled similarly.
“I can understand. I too… felt truly happy when I acquired a rare book with good reviews. I had to buy countless unread ancient empire histories just to obtain that one volume…”
Though he sighed as he said it, the atmosphere remained warm and friendly.
To the extent that Richard, who had been checking the path by touching trees a little distance away, unintentionally joined the conversation.
“I don’t know much about it. I… don’t have much material desire. I haven’t experienced joy from gaining something like you nobles.”
Saying this, but considering Richard is the heir to a duke, it wasn’t that he lacked desire—it’s just that he could easily acquire whatever he wanted, so he didn’t form attachments to objects.
Lumel seemed to notice this and pointed at Richard’s wrist with a soft chuckle.
“Considering that, there are quite a few accessories on your wrist, Lord Richard. Can you claim no material desire while wearing such expensive-looking items?”
As pointed out, Richard’s wrist was adorned with many ornaments. He also wore an expensive-looking necklace around his neck and several rings on his fingers.
“No, well, that’s…”
Faced with an undeniable point, Richard became flustered, and Tiamat, after watching his companions for a while, said,
“Even this elder feels that way! I can’t wait to try this thing out sooner!”
He had already sensed the power. Knowing what Aslan’s plasma shot into the sky could do, Tiamat looked forward to unleashing it himself.
Unfortunately, there was no immediate need.
“There won’t be such a situation. I prefer to resolve things peacefully.”
Responding without turning back, Aslan’s statement was met by Tiamat’s characteristic laughter.
“That’s disappointing. Let me know if you change your mind.”
“Harsh words.”
Aslan forced a laugh. Ereta walked silently beside him. Tiamat, observing them, suddenly said,
“Come to think of it, neither you nor Ereta seem to have much material desire.”
This comment startled Ereta, who had been quiet until now due to lacking opportunities to join the conversation. She turned with wide pink eyes.
“Do you mean me?”
Tiamat nodded.
“Yes, you don’t give off the impression of wanting anything… Since we haven’t known each other long, but it seems you don’t have any attachment to objects.”
“Hmm, definitely. She didn’t complain even when Aslan practically took her axe away…”
Angie agreed. Aslan glanced at both of them and Ereta, thinking,
Perhaps it was due to Ereta’s environment and circumstances.
After all, she had experienced a loss that couldn’t be filled by mere objects.
Considering her past where the gaze of an actual deity followed her, material possessions would hardly satisfy her.
If she had once been an ordinary human, she might have developed attachments to objects, but it seemed Ereta had always been a priestess from the start.
“It’s not just me. Phey and… Aslan are the same, aren’t they?”
While Aslan was pondering, Ereta redirected the question to him, and Tiamat briefly glanced at Aslan.
“He’s naturally ascetic, so it doesn’t feel strange. Honestly, if something valuable falls into his hands, he’d probably destroy most of it anyway. Having attachments would be unusual.”
“Not to that extent…”
An awkward response from Aslan, which Tiamat countered with, “Not at all,” causing Angie, who had been silently observing them, to raise her head and look towards the distant forest before speaking.
“Hmm, I find Phey more interesting than Aslan.”
A casual remark without much reasoning. Normally, it would be hard to agree, but the group remained silent, seemingly concurring.
Unlike usual, when he grumbled every time his sword was confiscated or seized, Phey showed no reaction when his twin beloved swords broke.
Just as Aslan wondered about this, something appeared noiselessly in front of the walking group.
The elf girl, Phey, who had previously moved through the forest unseen and swiftly, now appeared with speed beyond perception.
Phey landed and extended a finger towards the forest’s depths, her crimson hair fluttering.
“Aslan said they’re gathered ahead! If we keep going straight, we’ll encounter them!”
Aslan had entrusted reconnaissance to Phey.
Already surpassing divine agility with a level over 15, she could scout vast armies unnoticed.
Aslan patted Phey’s head and said,
“Good job. Thank you.”
The genuine smile of the usually masked elf girl, filled with sincere joy.
Aslan looked down at that smile and smiled warmly, prompting Phey to suddenly spread her arms.
“If you’re thankful, give me a piggyback ride!”
“Sure, sure.”
A piggyback ride was no trouble at all. Aslan lifted the elf girl onto his shoulders and stood up.
As the group resumed walking, conversations continued behind. Meanwhile, Aslan conversed with Phey as they walked.
About how her hair tie had broken and whether her loose hair bothered her.
Whether her burns were alright.
If she had adjusted to her strength yet.
Most answers were fine, but the elf girl seemed to enjoy even these simple questions, smiling faintly as she rubbed Aslan’s crown with her tiny hand.
Conversations flowed back and forth, and eventually, Aslan voiced his curiosity.
“Your swords broke, are you okay with that? They were Phey’s cherished swords.”
Dawn and Dusk, a pair of sister blades. Created during the ancient empire era and stored deep within ruins, these swords were renowned for their durability and power, making them prime items.
Having accompanied Phey since the beginning of her fighting career, one would expect regret at their loss, but Phey’s reaction was surprisingly calm.
“A little regretful, but it’s fine.”
Her tone was flat, devoid of emotion or variation. Aslan couldn’t help but wonder.
“Why is it fine? Did you not like them much?”
“No, I really loved those swords.”
Then why was it fine? Even Aslan, who had fewer desires, would feel some regret if his current items were damaged.
Aslan was about to ask again but noticed a shift in the elf girl’s aura on his shoulder and fell silent.
Unlike her usual guise as a carefree elf, there was a palpable difference now.
Amidst the lively chatter about favorite foods from behind, Aslan felt a chilling voice near his ear.
“Because I have Aslan now.”
The meaning itself was simple.
The voice, though chilly, wasn’t particularly problematic.
However, the intonation, phrasing, and overall feeling differed from ordinary speech.
An intentional eeriness. A chill that even battle-hardened Aslan found momentarily paralyzing.
Aslan remained silent for a moment before responding.
“Is that so?”
When Phey subtly questioned him, Aslan regained his composure.
“Will Aslan stay by my side forever?”
“…Yeah.”
And he lied. Phey immediately caught the lie but gave no indication.
“Good.”
There was no further pursuit. Only fragmented silences flowed between the ongoing conversations behind.
Aslan, carried along by this flow, finally spoke.
“…That sword, it can be repaired. More accurately, the two can be combined into one and repaired.”
Dawn and Dusk were weapons that existed in the game.
They were beloved by users.
Not far from the starting point of Olpasbet, they were obtainable early and usable throughout, a weapon Aslan himself favored.
Moreover, there was a special mechanic where they triggered mandatory repair sub-quests upon breaking, leading Aslan to assume the system remained unchanged.
“Really? That’s great!”
So Aslan casually mentioned repairs, and Phey, resuming her carefree demeanor, beamed brightly.
A natural performance. The guise of a carefree elf. Aslan bitterly smiled looking at the elf girl above his crown.
Unable to tell if he had made Phey this way or if she was originally like this.
Such confusion spurred Aslan to quicken his pace, but he suddenly stopped after walking for a while.
Ahead, amidst dense trees, approaching footsteps were heard.
Phey descended silently before Aslan could speak, gripping the hilt of the Stormsword behind her back.
The other members reacted similarly. Conversations abruptly ceased as they drew their weapons and focused on the direction of the approaching sounds.
Among them, Tiamat held his bow with subtle anticipation, prompting Aslan to step forward after assessing the group.
Rustling.
Then the bushes trembled, revealing a group of figures beyond.
“…”
They were soldiers.
A knight or squire dressed in a surcoat led the group, followed by about five soldiers.
The emblem on their surcoats and shields was familiar.
“The Veteran of Battle, Lord Aslan?”
The crest of the rising sun beyond the hill. The emblem of the Meland royal family. Recognizing the symbol, Aslan noticed the scenery beyond the bushes sway with the blowing wind.
As expected.
Beyond the soldiers lay an encampment.
An encampment filled with Gerald’s flag and the emblems of the Meland royal family.
Gerald had accurately predicted the group’s route and set up camp to wait.
A move chosen to prevent escape without visiting Tebery.
A strategy taken based on the certainty of visiting the land of elves.
Recognizing all this from his surroundings, Aslan glanced at the knight preparing to confirm his identity again.
“There’s no need to ask. It’s Aslan.”
From behind the knight approached someone.
Platinum hair flowing loosely, green eyes filled with greed. An aged face with hints of dark spots.
Gerald Mul Meland.
As the elderly man approached, the knight bowed before his master and stepped back.
When the knight retreated, an empty space formed between Gerald and Aslan, but neither moved closer.
Instead, this void was filled by a familiar figure.
Possessing platinum hair and green eyes, but much younger and far more beautiful.
Richard’s fiancée, Maria.
Seeing his fiancée, Richard flinched, prompting Gerald to display a cunning smile revealing his old age.
