Chapter 80

El Prigion, revered as a god, once experienced a joyful illusion after creating seven High Elves and one thousand Leaf Elves.

The seventh child born from El Prigion was Araya.

The miracles that small child created were hard to believe.

El Prigion expected that it would take at least 100 years for the elves it created to grow sufficiently and fulfill their roles.

Though the children possessed exceptional potential that was superior to any creature in the world due to the remarkable elements they were molded from, great time was needed to nurture that vast potential.

Just as a giant tree must take a long time to grow deep roots, if it were an easy task for newly born children to fulfill the mission of harmony and abundance, El Prigion would never have thought of creating elves in the first place.

Had Araya not observed the principles of the world shortly after her birth and created a small world within her body using that knowledge, everything would have flowed as El Prigion had predicted.

The elves, who began to use the power they named ‘Martial Art,’ stabilized the forest at a speed ten times faster than expected.

Almost without sacrifice.

Having easily become the apex predators of the ecosystem, the elves lacked a sense of crisis that creatures naturally possess.

Although it was somewhat concerning that the children, who had a diminished sense of crisis, included Demis, who acted wisely, it seemed they would not face major problems in the future.

However, at times, El Prigion pondered.

What would have happened if Araya, an extraordinary being, had not existed? Who would have stood out the most without Araya’s presence?

Would it have been Demis, who guided the elves well?

Or would it have been Saraswati, who created useful tools with her clever mind?

Perhaps it would have been Palas, who was born with innate bravery?

El Prigion doubted that.

The children’s potential needed to be honed over a long time to be fully realized.

In an era lacking a solid foundation, showcasing that talent was difficult.

But there was a child from the very beginning who could solve that immaturity from the outside.

A child who showed that no matter how extraordinary a creature may be, it cannot be complete alone.

Though overshadowed by the achievements of Araya, all the spirits in the forest cherished her. She was a child loved by the world.

Indeed, it was Anart who would have stood out the most.

◈ ◈ ◈

“Female…! Female…! Female…! That’s enough! I’ll just kill you!”

“You really are quite lively.”

Anart said while resting her chin on her hand, looking down at Aktik, who was seated atop a stone-shaped petal.

Aktik gazed up at Anart with a furious expression, suggesting that her demeanor was humiliating.

Before she dealt with Lamia, Aktik had seemed completely at ease, but now he appeared to be at a loss against Anart.

His thick leather armor, made excessively heavy with several layers, had holes in it, and though it seemed he had healed from wounds with his natural regeneration ability, the clotted blood made it appear dirty.

“That would be a fatal wound for an ordinary person.”

“Don’t compare me to those weaklings!”

“Come here. ‘Aspiro'”

Aktik, seemingly unbothered by his injuries, leaped, soaring higher than twice his height, lunging at Anart.

Awe-inspiring, a wind spirit resembling a ferret named Aspiro swooped in, enveloping Aktik in a tempest.

Aktik, mid-air, reached the ground, just a single step away from touching it, but found himself suspended in the void.

The wind welcomed Aktik gently at first, but soon transformed into a tempest.

Aspiro shook Aktik around wildly as if teasing a caught bug.

“Gahk-! Gah-! Gahhh!”

Ripped by the overwhelming tempest, Aktik was tossed to the ground.

“Gahk-! Hah-!”

Breathless and barely standing, Aktik wobbled, unable to regain his sense of balance.

It was overwhelming domination.

Those watching the duel paused in silence, regardless of friend or foe.

Especially the Orcus, who beheld Aktik with a mix of astonishment and horror.

For it was supposed to be Aktik playing with the enemy, but now he had become the one being toyed with.

“Shit…!”

His eyes, large as his body and filled with rage, turned red and frightening.

“Bastard!”

At the moment he shouted, Aktik slammed his feet into the ground.

Not even wearing shoes, Aktik’s foot shaped the terrain, leaving a long impression behind, providing him propulsion.

Different movements and speed than before.

Just as Anart prepared for Aktik to leap toward her, he refrained from jumping.

Instead, he swung his sword toward the thick, massive stem of the stone blossom.

Snap-!

Astoundingly, the stem was severed with a single swing of his sword, causing the upper part of the blossom, where Anart had been, to tip and begin to fall.

“Uhh-?”

Taken aback by the sudden change, Anart was shocked to see Aktik destroy the support rather than targeting her, but she quickly regained her composure.

While the tempest that had been fierce for Aktik turned into a gentle cradle of wind for Anart.

As Aktik rushed towards the falling Anart, a rock wall created by the earth spirit, Grendel, emerged, prompting him to swing his sword, cutting it down while shouting.

“Filthy bugs! What are you doing? Charge! Kill that girl! Kill!”

His brutal voice resonated at the heart of the battlefield.

“Uoooh-!”

Upon hearing that voice, the eyes of the nearby Orcus turned red like Aktik’s, and they charged toward Anart with strange cries, losing their sanity like beasts.

“Block them! Ugh!”

“It seems we’ve let our guard down!”

Friegoss shouted in urgency while barely dodging the approaching Mutuk’s sword.

Mutuk was being pressed by his soldiers and the Orcus together.

It might have ended quickly if it were one-on-one, but they were overwhelmingly outnumbered in terms of troops.

Yet, with every participant being elves comparable to Harmony Sword Masters, a sense of anxiety was beginning to appear on Mutuk’s face.

“Don’t worry. The human king. Anart will not lose to something like that.”

One male elf, swinging his fist at an approaching Orcus, chuckled.

“…Did you say Anart? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Dangerous? If Anart shows her serious side, it no longer matters how many there are. What matters is losing. But the pigs here will not reach Anart. Look.”

Friegoss kept his focus on Mutuk while glancing at Anart.

Anart gazed at the crazed Orcus charging at her with sorrowful eyes, raised her right index finger, and drew from right to left.

“Eradicate. ‘Heyman'”

As a blazing wolf rushed past the Orcus, flames engulfed their bodies.

“Kyaaaah!”

Even the Orcus, losing their sanity, could not ignore the pain of being burned alive.

Skin scorched, oil beneath it bubbling, and a foul smell began to permeate the battlefield.

As the horrendous screams rang out and many Orcus rolled on the ground, writhing in agony attempting to extinguish the flames, both foes and allies alike were left aghast.

“Graagh-! Die, female!”

At that moment, Aktik charged forward, slicing through several layered barriers made by Grendel.

His body, now swollen with muscle, had transformed even bigger than before, with veins aggressively standing out.

“…Unlike in the forest, this is a truly meaningless death.”

Anart muttered, keeping her gaze fixed on the Orcus burning in agony rather than turning to face the advancing Aktik.

“Fool! How can you indulge in useless emotions on a battlefield of death and destruction!”

Aktik swung his sword at the motionless Anart.

Crack!

But the sword didn’t swing further.

Unearthed mounds of earth bound Aktik.

And from those mounds, vines climbed like shackles, while the wind ferret and the flame wolf mounted Aktik’s shoulders.

Anart slowly walked toward the restrained Aktik, glancing at the Orcus turning to ashes.

“Is there a need to kill just for the sake of killing? Are you going to continue this pointless act?”

“Cough! You’re questioning such trivial matters here?”

“Aren’t you one of those leading your race? How can someone meant to lead recklessly push them into peril?”

“Isn’t it the natural order for the weak to be used for the benefit of the strong? Why should I sacrifice for those weaklings? Perhaps it would be the other way around.”

“…Do you not feel at least some pity for them?”

“Shut up. My father bred me to be used.”

Anart gently brushed her hand across Aktik’s hideous, enraged face.

“Poor thing.”

Had Anart’s compassionate gaze touched something in Aktik’s mind?

His eyes, red and dark, began to brim with ferocity as Aktik’s muscles swelled once more.

“Do not! Pity! Me!”

Crack! Crack!

Even in a situation where his whole body was bound and he could not exert his strength properly, Aktik’s immense power shattered his restraints.

And as he swung his hand to crush the insolent elf’s head before him, Aktik screamed in dreadful pain as his body was engulfed in agony.

The massive flames conjured by the wolf swallowed him whole as the ferret created the wind.

Whatever harmony it was, that blaze seemed to flay only Aktik, leaving Anart untouched right before her eyes.

“Uraaaah! Aaaah!”

Anart glanced down at Aktik, who rolled on the ground engulfed in flames with a pitiful expression, then turned away.

‘…For the first time, I’ve done my part, but it doesn’t feel good.’

Anart looked around.

In order to sustain life, to claim the flesh and blood of other lives.

What sprang forth was not necessary killing but merely senseless acts of killing happening everywhere.

Not long ago, the Pohelrn had been a truly vibrant and warm place.

Because of that, the outside of the forest didn’t feel so bad, but witnessing this unending strife today made her think differently.

Just as she sighed, she heard the calls of the elves as if they were summoning her.

‘What could it be?’

The moment that thought crossed her mind, something suddenly pushed against her chest, and she fell.

Anart was a bit surprised.

Though she had just relaxed after the battle, she hadn’t sensed the approaching being.

Still, she rationalized that there had been no malice felt at all.

Regaining her composure, she looked at the entity that had pushed her, recognizing its familiar face.

While slightly free-spirited compared to elves, it was a human with an acceptable balance for one.

Friegoss looked a bit embarrassed as he pulled his hand away from her chest.

“…? What’s this?”

“You were in a bit of danger. You must not let your guard down on the battlefield.”

Upon hearing that, Anart surveyed the area, noting that a fiery sword had been embedded in the severed base of the flower.

It was the last desperate throw Aktik made before burning away as his muscular body turned to ash.

“…Ah, thank you.”

“…It was merely my duty. You graciously dispatched the enemy leader, and we could not let the blood of Master’s kin be wounded by our squabble.”

“…You’ve been hurt a little, haven’t you?”

Anart pointed out the wetness soaking into the fresh wound on Friegoss’s collarbone.

The pace of the seepage indicated that it was not a minor injury.

“It’s a wound given by a coward who seized the opportunity. It’s not worth worrying about.”

“Still…”

Friegoss helped Anart to her feet and gave a stern look towards the distancing Mutuk.

“Thanks to you, it seems we have dealt with a significant threat. From here on, there is only our work left.”

“…Do you need my help further?”

“I read your concern from your expression earlier. You seem unaccustomed to the battlefield.”

“I-I’m fine! I’m still full of energy!”

“…? If so, can I ask you to subdue the enemy while not pushing yourself too hard?”

“Of course!”

Anart gleefully accepted Friegoss’s words.

◈ ◈ ◈

“…Bitch.”

“Huh? What did you say, sister? Where do you think you’re going in the middle of a fight? You really!”

While dealing with several witches who seemed to have been instructed in sorcery by Algul, Alia, who was keeping an eye on Friegoss’s condition, saw the light in her eyes fade. She suddenly paused amidst combat and began to walk slowly in a certain direction, causing the startled Lamia to shout.

“Kyaaah! Kyaaah!”

The witches screamed as they fell, but they were exhausted too!

“Oh! What’s happening!”

Due to the persistent witch clinging onto her, Lamia was unable to stop Alia, who was heading somewhere, and yelled in annoyance while swinging her sword at the witches.

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