Chapter 143: Writing Again(1)
Chapter 143: Writing Again(1)
Arwen’s national address had an impact that reached far beyond Albenheim, resonating across the entire world. Traditionally, Elves appeared well-coordinated on the surface, but they had a tendency to fracture when faced with a true crisis.
This wasn't just limited to the Race Wars; a close look at the internal workings of Albenheim revealed cracks everywhere. These fissures were so fine and numerous that the Elves themselves often failed to notice them, yet they were like a time bomb waiting to explode.
The recent Half-blood Incident had shown signs of another impending split, but Arwen’s speech had successfully smoothed things over. More than that, it had sparked a movement toward true unification.
While the speech focused on integrating pure-bloods and half-bloods, a deeper look revealed a stern warning for Elves to cast aside their "pride"—a trait they were practically synonymous with. She argued that pride was their true enemy and a stain on the honor of their ancestors.
Thanks to her words, the Elves of Albenheim were given a reason to reflect deeply. In effect, she had triggered a massive shift across the entire nation.
Naturally, neighboring countries were watching warily, fearing that Albenheim might become truly unified. The human nations, in particular, were keeping a close eye on the situation; if the Elves ever achieved genuine solidarity, it would be the humans who suffered the most.
The primary reason the human side had emerged victorious during the Race Wars was their unity. Even when they appeared divided by political intrigue and power struggles on the surface, they always managed to stand together when it counted.
The same held true for the Demon War three thousand years ago. Even now, "grit" and "unity" were inseparable parts of the human identity.
Despite possessing inferior innate abilities compared to other races, their indomitable spirit and their capacity to fight as one were humanity's greatest strengths.
But what if the Elves acquired that same strength? It might not matter immediately, but it could become a major destabilizing factor in the future.
[If the Elves become one, it may not matter now, but it will pose a massive threat in the distant future.]
[To other races, this sounds almost like incitement.]
[Will the Elves truly change?]
As these evaluations suggested, the world was focused on the Elves' transformation. Some were on guard, fearing the Elves might swallow the world in the distant future, while others asserted that Elves were simply Elves and could never truly rid themselves of their pride.
Amidst the flurry of opinions, there was one common point of praise: the content of the speech itself.
The closing phrase—"of the Elves, by the Elves, for the Elves"—was being quoted everywhere. Critics praised it for encapsulating the entire speech into a single, simple sentence that left a lasting impression on the mind.
Of course, Isaac had written the whole thing, but the public had no way of knowing that.
"Isaac."
"Yeah?"
"You wrote that speech, didn't you?"
Except for a very select few.
*
As Cecile’s condition continued to worsen, we returned to the Minerva Empire without delay. Cecile went back to Helium with Gartz, promising to see me the next day.
When the next day came and we both had some free time, Cecile and I enjoyed a date. Mari was busy with classes and had graciously stepped aside so we could have our time together.
Some students watched us with strange looks, but I ignored them all. Our "date" mostly consisted of sharing a meal and walking around the Academy grounds.
"Isaac."
"Yeah?"
"You wrote that speech, didn't you?"
Cecile suddenly dropped the question. We had taken a soundproofed room to have some coffee, so there was no risk of our conversation leaking out.
I was slightly taken aback by her question but replied with a calm voice.
"You knew?"
"I was just taking a shot in the dark. Were you not even planning to hide it?"
"You know Arwen, Noona. And you're quick-witted, so I figured you'd find out eventually."
I was being completely honest. I expected someone of Cecile's caliber to at least know that Arwen had come to see me.
Moreover, since Siris acted as the messenger between Arwen and me, it wasn't a wild guess at all.
"I assume you didn't just help her for nothing? She might have a strong sense of responsibility, but that woman did you a great wrong."
"I know. That's why I asked her to teach me some magic."
"Magic?"
"Yeah. To be precise, I asked her to compile a record of different types of magic and their effects. Elven magic and Demon magic are fundamentally different, after all."
"Hmm."
Cecile looked convinced by my answer. But after a moment, she asked as if she wasn't quite satisfied.
"Isn't that a bit too little? Arwen’s national address was a massive success, and it’s paved the way for Albenheim to develop significantly. I think you deserve a bigger reward."
"What kind of reward? I already have everything I want."
"Uh..."
Cecile’s red eyes darted around as she fell into thought. I waited quietly, sipping my coffee leisurely.
Eventually, she made a disgruntled face and spoke in a hollow voice.
"I suppose you're right. You really do have everything. Still, I wish you were a bit more greedy."
"Greedy, huh..."
I set my coffee cup down and thought about it. Perhaps due to the influence of my past life, I really wasn't a very greedy person, just as Cecile said.
I had already achieved everything I set out to do, so why would I be greedy? If I had to pick something, it would be my desire to dig deeper into history.
But even that was being handled; Siris was delivering books from Albenheim’s Holy Land to me. Thanks to that, my knowledge was growing, which helped me with the Xenon Biography.
My only current "greed" was for more people to read the Xenon Biography and for the Maishal Territory to develop into a cultural hub. That was really it.
To do that, I’ll have to finish Volume 13, and eventually, the whole series.
I was already about halfway through Volume 13. Like Volume 12, I had the whole plot mapped out; all that was left was the invasion of Albenheim—or Elvenheim, as it was called in the book.
Albenheim had pressured me with threats of censorship if their nation was invaded in the story, but frankly, I didn't care. It was Albenheim that would suffer the consequences, not me.
Besides, Arwen had told me that the decision was made solely by the Elder Council, which made it a self-defeating move. Politicians need to maintain public sentiment, yet they were actively undermining it themselves.
If things get difficult, I’ll just send a letter.
I knew all too well from the China of my past life how pathetic it was to censor culture. What was even more absurd was that even when culture was censored, people would go to any lengths to find it.
I wondered if a similar phenomenon would occur in Albenheim. Perhaps this would be the catalyst for the citizens of Albenheim to harbor resentment toward the Elder Council.
I snapped out of my thoughts and stared intently at Cecile. She was waiting patiently for me to speak.
I didn't have any major desires before, but looking at her, I felt one bubbling up. It was something I had been curious about for a long time.
"I didn't have any before, but I think I just found one."
"Really? What is it?"
"Horns."
"Horns?"
"Yeah."
I nodded and pointed a finger at Cecile’s horns.
"Can I touch your horns just once?"
"Wh-what?"
"I asked if I could touch your horns. I've always been curious."
Cecile had told me what it meant for a Demon to let someone touch their horns. It was something akin to a confession: I will love you even if you become a devil.
While I was satisfying my personal curiosity, I also wanted to show her how I felt. Since it was our first date in a while, I felt I should do at least this much.
Cecile hesitated at first, then spoke softly.
"...Y-you can touch them."
"Really?"
"Yes. I told you months ago. I'll do anything you want. Whether it's my horns or my body, it doesn't matter."
Cecile placed a hand over her heart and answered gently. She seemed nervous; a faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and I could hear a slight tremor in her voice.
For a Demon, touching their horns was equivalent to an emotional communion. Since they were often more easily swayed mentally than physically, it was natural for them to place great value on such emotional connections.
As soon as I had Cecile’s permission, I stood up and sat down right next to her. She flinched slightly when I sat beside her, then lowered her head in a modest gesture.
She subtly tilted her head toward me, inviting me to touch her. Between this and the sneezing incident, she was unbearably cute. It felt like she was urging me to hurry up and pet her.
Was it that all women in love were cute, like Mari, or was this just Cecile’s personality? I looked at her face before shifting my gaze to the horns near her temples.
Perhaps because her evil cycle was approaching, the red color occupied a much larger portion of the horns than the black.
Slide—
"Mnh..."
As I gently touched her horn, Cecile let out a low, purring sound like a cat and squirmed. She even closed her eyes, seemingly savoring my touch.
But as I had heard before, there was no sensation in the horns themselves. She was simply finding peace in the fact that I was touching them.
They're hard.
The Demon horns, which I was touching for the first time in my life, were hard. It was obvious since they were horns, but I had expected them to feel different.
I caressed Cecile’s horn for a while before moving my other hand to cup her face. I slowly turned her head so that we were eye-to-eye.
As I turned her face, Cecile opened her eyes and looked at me. Her deep red pupils were strangely moist and filled with intense emotion.
I thought it every time, but Cecile was so beautiful that even the word "beautiful" felt inadequate.
"Noona. Did you know?"
"...Know what?"
"You have a surprisingly cute side. Like the sneezing incident last time, and right now. You're truly lovely."
"..."
As I spoke from the heart, Cecile’s face rapidly turned a deep crimson. Her face was so flushed that even her blood-red eyes seemed to blend into her skin—a clear sign of how shy she was feeling.
And yet, true to her nature, she didn't look away. If it had been Mari, she would have screamed about how embarrassing it was and turned her head.
I gave a small smile and began to slowly bring my face closer to hers. One hand continued to gently stroke her horn, while the other held her face.
As I drew closer, Cecile closed her eyes once more.
Chu—
Soon, I felt something soft against my lips. Feeling that sensation, I parted my lips slightly.
Cecile responded in kind, cautiously opening her mouth, allowing our lips to overlap.
"..."
"..."
A deep kiss followed for a long moment. I could feel Cecile’s body tensing up in real-time, but I didn't mind.
We didn't use our tongues much. That was for the "main event," not for a cramped space like this.
This kiss was merely a prelude. With summer break just around the corner, this was a bit of groundwork to give her something to look forward to.
I continued the kiss while gently stroking her horn before slowly pulling my lips away. The sweet scent of coffee lingered in my mouth.
"Haah... haah... hng..."
She must have been holding her breath during the kiss. Cecile let out ragged breaths, her expression dazed.
I hadn't touched her horns last time, but doing so while kissing her this time seemed to have made her much more emotional.
I gave a playful grin and checked the horn I was still touching.
As I suspected, the red portion had grown even larger than before. It seemed her desires had intensified along with the kiss.
"Noona."
"Haa... yes?"
"You can wait until summer break, right?"
I planned to officially visit Helium during the break. I needed to observe Cecile’s fighting style for the Xenon Biography and planned to tour various parts of Helium.
And, of course, I would have to do as she wished. To that end, it would be best to meet Cecile’s parents and explain the situation in detail.
"...You're mean."
Cecile pouted and gave my chest a playful thump with her fist. Still, the smile on her face suggested she wasn't actually upset.
I let out a soft chuckle but didn't stop touching her horn. It was strangely addictive, and since Cecile liked it, it was hard to stop.
"Noona."
"Yes, Isaac."
Cecile answered with a happy smile. I paused for a moment to admire her stunning beauty before speaking.
"I told you that you were the model for Lilith."
"Yes."
"I'm going to include an illustration of Lilith in Volume 13. Is it okay if I use you as a reference?"
"Me?"
"Yeah."
Cecile’s eyes widened when I mentioned using her as a reference for an illustration. After all, an illustration was a drawing, which was on a different level than just being a "model."
I was quite skilled at drawing, but there was a world of difference between drawing from imagination and drawing while looking at a real person.
I wanted to illustrate all of the Seven Deadly Sins if possible, but since that would be difficult in many ways, I at least wanted to include Lilith.
"I don't mind, but are you sure about me?"
"No one fits Lilith better than you, Noona."
"Th-then it's an honor. Are you going to draw it yourself?"
"Yeah. I might be lacking, but it'll turn out better if I draw while looking at you."
"Haah..."
For some reason, Cecile let out a hot breath. I looked at her face, puzzled.
Cecile’s red eyes were even more intense than before. Like a predator that had found its prey, her desire looked ready to explode at any moment.
The horn I was touching was the same. Except for the very tip, it was entirely red.
"How... how am I supposed to wait when you're like this..."
"..."
"Isaac..."
"...Yes, Noona."
She cupped my face with both hands and spoke as if she had surrendered to her desires.
"Can't we just do it here?"
And then came the firm reply.
"No."
"Just once..."
"No. If you keep this up, I'm going to stop touching your horn."
"Hmph..."
Fortunately, Cecile backed down obediently.
*
While the world was buzzing with Arwen’s national address, the publisher of the Xenon Biography was busier than ever.
National address or not, they didn't have a moment to rest due to the flood of work pouring in, and even the printing press, which had developed new technology, was churning out books like crazy.
The Xenon Biography had always been most popular among humans, but starting from Volume 11, it had spread far and wide regardless of race. A love story that transcended racial boundaries was more than enough to tug at the readers' heartstrings.
Thanks to this, the publisher's president was once again rolling in money, but he was currently facing a difficult situation.
"So, what you're saying is... you want me to show you the letters Xenon sent?"
"That is correct."
It was because of the Elves right in front of him.
It was unheard of for Elves, let alone humans, to visit the publishing house, and these were people famous for belonging to prestigious families even within Albenheim.
Since they were the equivalent of high-ranking nobles among humans, the president had no choice but to be on guard. Especially since Albenheim had even issued a statement demanding that the contents of Volume 13 be revised.
The president looked at the Elf standing proudly in luxurious silk clothes, then gave a business smile and replied.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot show you those. I've already burned them all."
"You would do well not to lie, human."
"Why would I lie? In a world where some people can track someone down just by their handwriting, I have to erase all such traces."
The president was mentioning something that had actually happened. There were all sorts of people in the world, and some were experts at tracking.
Of course, tracking someone down by handwriting alone was practically impossible, but after the recent incident where a manuscript was stolen, he had to be careful about everything.
Burning the letters? As the Elf suspected, it was a lie. Each letter was incredibly valuable; why would he just burn them?
But he had to lie just in case. He couldn't risk killing the goose that laid the golden eggs.
"I will pay you. If you wish, I can even provide Dew of the World Tree."
"Dew of the World Tree..."
"It is one of the primary ingredients for an Elixir."
Now, that was tempting. An Elixir was known as a panacea, a legendary medicine that could save even a dying person.
Because its price was whatever the seller demanded, even wealthy nobles had to endure a massive financial blow to purchase one. If an Elixir was that valuable, what about its primary ingredient?
The president’s mind raced. But he quickly decided it wasn't worth it.
Dew of the World Tree wasn't something you'd find at just any auction. Such things usually appeared on the black market rather than at official auctions, and it was common for sellers not to receive proper payment.
Maintaining his business smile, the president spoke in a polite voice.
"I'm sorry. Even for Dew of the World Tree, I cannot do it. I can't give you something I don't have."
"Do you not realize how valuable Dew of the World Tree is?"
"I do. That's why I'm refusing."
The president had gone through all sorts of trials to grow his company. In his eyes, these Elves were just trying to scam him.
I'm busy enough as it is, and they're demanding letters?
The president had a history of flatly refusing demands even from personnel dispatched from the Imperial Palace. He had turned down proposals from high-ranking officials of his own country; handling representatives from another nation was easy.
Above all, the president disliked these Elves. They were incredibly arrogant—just look at that condescending gaze. Who would ever accept a proposal from them?
"Hmph. You clearly don't understand the gravity of the situation. You'll regret this."
"As I said before, I can't give you what I don't have. You said you were from a prestigious family in Albenheim, right? May I ask your name?"
"Kalas Shadowsinger."
"I see."
Who the hell is that? The president kept his polite smile, but he was annoyed internally.
"Regardless, I shall visit again soon. I expect you to have the letters then."
"I shall send word to Mr. Xenon."
"Very well. I shall return in exactly three days."
The Elf, who appeared to be the leader, said that and vanished. The other Elves did the same.
The president instantly wiped the polite smile off his face as the Elves disappeared via teleportation. He stared at the empty space with a hardened expression before glancing to his side.
Standing there was his loyal secretary and reliable employee, Matthew. He was breaking out in a cold sweat, looking quite nervous.
"Matthew."
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Transcribe every single letter Xenon has sent."
"Understood... wait, what?"
"Transcribe the future ones, too. Then send the originals back. While you're at it, let him know what's going on."
The president gave the order, clicked his tongue, and muttered softly.
"Pointy-ears really never change."