Chapter 137: In Alfheim(2)
Chapter 137: In Alfheim(2)
The relationship between Elves and Demons is subtly complex, though it’s fair to say the Elves harbor a one-sided loathing for the Demons. The Demons have made countless efforts to be recognized as "people," regardless of whether they were dealing with Elves or any other race.
Perhaps because of this, even when Elves treat them with wariness and contempt, the Demons don't particularly care. However, during the Race War, the Demons were backing the humans, so it wasn't as if they had no contact at all.
If the Demons hadn't aided the Human Alliance, the humans would have suffered immense casualties even if the Elves had brought about their own destruction. Some research even suggests that the reason humans were able to use magic so easily was due to the Demons' participation in the war.
Thus, the Elves and Demons share an incredibly delicate relationship. The Elves despise the Demons as descendants of devils, while the Demons simply shrug it off and move on.
If Xenon’s Biography hadn't appeared to change the perception of Demons, and if Albenheim hadn't adopted an open-door policy, the two would almost never clash. Even when aware of each other's existence, they avoided confrontation due to the risk of mutual destruction and a lack of justification.
But times have changed, and the world has moved on. The Demons gained an opportunity to step into the light, and the Elves shed some of their arrogance to reach out to the world.
Though they hadn't clashed until now, a conflict between these two fundamentally opposite entities was, in a way, an inevitability.
"Sister, what’s going on?"
"Phew. Oh?"
I approached Cecile, who was in the middle of a dispute with an Elf, and called out to her. Catching her breath, Cecile’s red eyes widened at my appearance.
Gartz, who had been standing by her side, gave a polite bow. I returned the gesture with a silent nod and focused back on Cecile.
Cecile was radiating the dignity of a princess, dressed in a jet-black gown that complemented her hair color. Judging by the material and its modest design, it seemed intended for travel, but her natural grace elevated even its simplicity into something luxurious.
While I scanned her attire, Cecile glanced at Mari and Lina beside me before speaking with a weary expression.
"It’s nothing major. I’m just having a bit of a headache with the entry procedures."
"Entry procedures..."
At the mention of entry procedures, I turned my gaze toward the Elf she had been arguing with. He possessed the striking beauty typical of his race, but his expression was stern and prickly.
He wore simple clothing, but a badge indicating his rank was pinned to his chest. He appeared to be part of the personnel assigned to handle immigration.
"I will say it again: please provide more definitive proof. Even if you have a document, how can you prove it is authentic? You are a Demon; you could easily forge a mere magical document."
"Can you not see this Affixed Seal authorized by the Queen? This is a bound seal that cannot be manipulated even with magic. Even I couldn't do anything about it."
"That is why I am asking for more certain proof. The Queen’s seal alone is far from sufficient."
I could guess the situation. It seemed the immigration official was making unreasonable demands and denying entry simply because Cecile was a Demon.
This alone was a major diplomatic insult, but considering Helium’s current situation, they were essentially in a checkmate. As is well known, until the appearance of Xenon’s Biography, Helium had been treated harshly by neighboring countries and was forced into a semi-compulsory isolation.
But that was no longer the case. For several months now, Helium had begun interacting in earnest with surrounding nations, showcasing the strengths they had long kept hidden to firmly establish their presence.
The problem was that they were still in the early stages. Helium had rarely engaged in diplomacy for hundreds of years, and while perceptions were slowly improving, there was no telling what would happen if things went sideways.
So, if Cecile handled this poorly even for a moment, it could trigger a severe backlash. I didn't know if the immigration official had thought that far ahead, but the situation remained precarious.
He’s doing this to a princess, not just some random noble?
Perhaps he was acting this way because he didn't realize how powerful Helium—and by extension, the Demons—actually was. Even during the Race War, the Demons had supported the Human Alliance from the shadows and hadn't engaged in direct military conflict with the Elves.
The Elves' characteristic arrogance toward humans had been diluted through the Race War, but it seemed their view of Demons remained unchanged.
I looked back and forth between the official and Cecile, who were locked in a psychological battle, and then made a request to her.
"Sister, can you show me that official document?"
"Why?"
"I’m just curious."
It was unlikely, but there was a chance Arwen had authorized it in a strange way. You never know.
Cecile handed me the document without a hint of suspicion. It was rolled up like a scroll, and the texture of the paper was vastly different from anything ordinary.
When I unfurled the scroll, I saw an official notice written in elegant cursive. At the bottom was the seal proving it was from Arwen.
[I, Arwen Elidya, Queen of Albenheim, hereby proclaim: I authorize the entry of Cecile Drat Aisilia bin, Princess of Helium, and her guardian knight, Gartz Balak.]
It was a brief message, but the script shimmered like stars, likely written with a special pen. It seemed deeply connected to magic.
Between the date written above the seal and the magical context of the writing, it was unmistakably Arwen’s letter of authorization. This alone should have left no reason for Cecile to be denied entry.
With an expression of utter incomprehension, I asked the official.
"This is an official document issued directly by the Que—I mean, the Queen. Why don't you believe it?"
"It is not that I do not believe it, but that I require something more definitive than this."
"Is this not enough?"
"Yes. A Demon entering is a first in the history of Albenheim, so it cannot be helped."
What a stubborn, narrow-minded man. I felt like I was getting a small taste of what people from the Middle East feel when trying to enter the United States.
It’s the same for other races, but Demons, who carry the risk of turning into devils, are always subjects of wariness. However, in the case of Elves, it was a bit extreme.
Furthermore, Elves pride themselves on being the chosen of the gods, while Demons are the descendants of devils, so they can't help but hate them. It was almost like racial discrimination.
Regardless, this kind of discrimination was wrong. I questioned the official in a voice that betrayed my disbelief.
"What if this really is an official document authorized by the Queen? Are you prepared to take responsibility for this?"
"I have already requested verification from my superiors. If you simply wait, entry will not be a problem. The Queen will verify it herself."
"How long will that take?"
"I do not know. Since it is the first time a Demon has entered, it may take a while. It will take at least two days."
Wow... I’m impressed. He’s denying entry because instructions haven't come down from above? Talk about a total lack of flexibility.
I knew Elves were stubborn because of their peculiar pride, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. No wonder they threw Iker into a dungeon during the Race War.
Cecile seemed equally frustrated, as she confronted the official with an expression of disbelief.
"Can you take responsibility for this situation? This is a grave diplomatic discourtesy. Can you not even imagine what will happen when this reaches the Queen’s ears?"
"It does not matter. I have watched over four hundred springs, and I have realized that a one percent probability is by no means a small figure. It is my duty to close even that tiny gap."
They say a stupid person with convictions is a terrifying thing, and this was exactly that. This official was the perfect stereotype of an Elf.
Moreover, since he said he had lived for over four hundred years, he must be from the generation that experienced the Race War. There was no way his view of Demons would be anything but negative.
But this was clearly a wrong move. I asked the official quietly, as if asking if he was serious.
"Excuse me. You said you’re closing that tiny gap, but when you close every single gap, you lose all flexibility. If you keep doing that, eventually the internal pressure will become too much and—pop!—it’ll explode."
"This is not a matter for you to concern yourself with. Go to another official and proceed with your entry."
"I’m saying this because I think I should concern myself with it. Your one flawed judgment is going to cause great harm to all of Albenheim. Are you really okay with that?"
"What are you talking about? I am merely..."
"Certainty this, certainty that—you’re ignoring a letter of authorization? Is that not just blatant disrespect for the Queen? Are you higher than her? This is an abuse of power, plain and simple."
As I pointed out his faults while gesturing to the document, the official’s face froze. I felt the atmosphere grow heavy, but I didn't back down.
What kind of man would stand still while his woman faced such discrimination? If you can tolerate that, you’re a pathetic excuse for a person.
"What if Princess Cecile—no, the Princess—goes back like this and files a formal protest? It will undoubtedly bring shame upon Albenheim and the Elven race. Even if Helium has only recently begun its diplomacy, this is a national disgrace. And you will be the Elf who made a decisive contribution to that disgrace. An immigration official who tarnished the pride and honor that Elves supposedly value more than life itself."
"..."
"You said you wanted to close the gaps? That conviction is fine. There’s nothing wrong with being prepared for the worst. But the official document the Princess showed you is a form of certainty that closes even that 'worst-case' possibility. And yet you still deny entry? It seems you just hate Demons; there doesn't appear to be any other reason."
Whether my bluntness was effective or not, the official’s face turned a mottled red. Usually, when someone else drags your true feelings into the light, you can't help but get angry.
We might be denied entry at this rate, but I didn't care. I could just ask Siris or Arwen to smuggle us in. Smuggling is only a problem if you get caught; once you’re safely in the country, you rarely get found out.
"...You say interesting things. Do I look like someone who would deny entry based on personal feelings?"
"Based on the circumstances, that’s exactly how it looks."
"Ha! Well, I suppose you can say that because you are a human. Humans have been a race of greed and folly since ancient times. That is why you cause so many problems, unlike us, who are flawless."
The official had finally snapped, resorting to discriminatory remarks. I never experienced racial discrimination in my past life, but here I was experiencing speciesism.
Still, it didn't particularly bother me. Perhaps because the influence of my past life was so deep-rooted, I was more sensitive to racism than speciesism. I could just brush it off as an Elf being an Elf.
"...You. You’d better take that back."
Cecile spoke in a low, sinking voice, clearly displeased that the official had directed discriminatory remarks at me. Not only her, but Gartz’s expression had also hardened, and Mari and Lina were no different.
I don't know what criteria they used to pick this Elf as an official, but he had already crossed the line. I hadn't even been mocking him; I had just pointed out the facts, and he had gone and dug his own grave.
I had a feeling we’d have to wait a while to enter. I met the official’s cold gaze head-on.
Perhaps because he was tall, our eye levels were almost equal.
"Hmm... well, I suppose that could be true. Humans do commit many wrongs out of greed, selfishness, and folly."
"If you know that, then why..."
"That is why our potential for growth is greater than any other race. Even if humans commit wrongs, they acknowledge them and at least try to fix them. A person grows the moment they recognize and correct a mistake. But 'flawless,' you say..."
I let out a short laugh and gave the arrogant Elf a piece of my mind.
"That sounds like a race with absolutely no potential for growth—a race with no dreams or hope. Just like someone once said."
"..."
"If you truly want to be flawless, start by recognizing where you went wrong and thinking about how to fix it. The moment you fall into pride and think only you are right, all that remains is self-destruction. Since you’ve lived through the Race War, I trust you know exactly what I mean."
If he didn't swallow his pride after this, then I’d truly have to hand it to him. His stubbornness would be legendary.
I had heard from Cindy that because Elves have such strong pride, they often grudgingly give in if their pride is challenged. Since refusing now would hurt his pride, as an official, he shouldn't be able to refuse.
"...Is that all you have to say?"
"Yes."
"Then get lost. All of you are denied entry."
And yet, here was an Elf whose stubbornness beat his pride. Whatever else he was, this old fogey in front of me seemed utterly hopeless.
Just as I was about to give up and retreat, an unfamiliar voice drifted in from another direction.
"Hahaha. I came here just in case, and you really are doing this."
"Huh?"
It wasn't the elegant and noble tone typical of Elves, but one tinged with a certain flippancy. Everyone turned toward the voice at the same time.
An Elven man was approaching. His beaming face and light, bouncy stride were quite distinctive.
His hair was a bright light green, reminiscent of grass, and he possessed the exquisite beauty expected of an Elf.
On the surface, he looked like someone radiating positive energy, but...
"K-Keir...!"
The official’s reaction suggested something was amiss. As soon as the Elf called Keir appeared, the official’s face twisted in terror.
The Elven man, Keir, walked past me and approached the official, grabbing him by the shoulder. As he did, the official’s complexion turned pale.
Keir, still wearing a beaming smile, spoke to the official. His voice was soft and gentle, matching his stride.
"I told you repeatedly, didn't I? The Princess of Helium would be visiting soon. So I told you to just let her and her guardian knight through."
"B-but, a Demon is..."
"A descendant of devils? A time bomb that could go off at any moment? Does that trivial stuff matter right now? She’s a guest of honor who came to see our Queen’s speech. A guest of honor. Right?"
"...I am sorry."
"Don't say you're sorry; tell me why. The Princess had a letter of authorization, and I even specifically told you to let her through. So why did you deny her entry? Just tell me once."
He was soft-spoken, but that only made him more terrifying. Even I, watching from the side, felt it; I could only imagine how the official felt.
As the atmosphere felt like it was on the verge of exploding, the official, whose face had turned ashen, swallowed hard and spoke quietly.
"...It couldn't be helped."
"Would you like to say that again?"
"To prepare for the worst... it was something that couldn't be helped."
The official stuck to his convictions until the end. I didn't know whether to call it impressive or just beyond stubborn.
"Couldn't be helped, eh..."
Upon hearing that answer, Keir sighed and patted the official’s shoulder. Then, with a bright smile, he whispered.
"Then I suppose I can't help it either."
Having said that, Keir carefully unpinned the badge from the official’s chest.
THWACK!
He delivered a powerful kick to the official’s abdomen. With a strength so immense the official couldn't even let out a scream, he was sent flying and slammed into a wall.
To be thrown into a wall, just how hard had he kicked him? I could guarantee that if I were hit by that kick, I’d be dead or critically injured on the spot.
Even for an Elf with a naturally sturdy body, he’d likely be bedridden for days.
While everyone stood stunned by the sudden turn of events, Keir nonchalantly pinned the official’s badge to his own chest and looked at me.
Then, with the kindest smile in the world, he asked me.
"Since the immigration official is currently absent, I will handle the procedures in his stead. How far had we gotten?"
"...We hadn't actually started yet."
"Hahaha. Let’s move past that. I’d like to see some identification or a letter of authorization. The Princess over there as well."
As expected, even among Elves, there were eccentrics.