Chapter 238: Majestic(3)
Chapter 238: Majestic(3)
Unlike demons, elves have a long history of mingling with other races, and as a result, they have accumulated a vast array of epithets.
The race chosen by God. The race that established the first civilization. The race that was the beginning of everything.
While there are many such positive descriptions, there are just as many negative ones.
The arrogant race. The rude race. Pointy-ears. The race with nothing but stubborn pride. The infuriating race. Racists. And so on.
Most of these labels eventually boil down to "elves are arrogant." As seen from their positive epithets, they are actually quite talented, which only makes their attitude more exasperating.
One couldn't even argue when an elf looked down on a specific field. Being arrogant is, in a way, only possible because they have absolute confidence in their own abilities.
Even if an elf learns something from another race, that’s as far as it goes; they won't yield an inch in the fields they pride themselves on.
This is most prominent in magic. Magic is the power and ability that has developed since the dawn of civilization, and elves truly do possess the most outstanding capabilities in it.
While demons possess formidable firepower through black mana, it is practically impossible for them to drop massive meteors from the sky like elves do.
Demons can make barren land fertile, but they cannot match the efficiency of an elf.
On the other hand, due to their long history of persecution, demons have far more spells that are useful in daily life than elves do. Furthermore, their magical items, such as refrigerators, are on par with those of the dwarves.
However, from an elf's perspective, they think, Is that really such a big deal? They believe that if they just put in the time, they could not only make those things but create even better versions.
Of course, this is a thought born from never having tried it themselves; in reality, creating magical items requires an immense amount of know-how.
Refrigerators, magic pens, the temperature control functions in dormitories—these involve magic, but "engineering" plays a much larger role.
The magic and research that elves pride themselves on are very similar to "science," but engineering is a different field entirely, where manual dexterity is paramount.
However, elves tend to forget this fact, and Arwen was no exception.
Despite being a half-elf and having integrated into human society before entering Albenheim, it seemed her innate nature couldn't be entirely suppressed. Moreover, Arwen herself took great pride in her magic, so she likely didn't want to back down.
That didn't mean she wasn't in the wrong, though. It would have been one thing if it were just the two of us, but the problem was that she said those things right in front of Cecile, the Princess of Helium.
Claiming that demon magic is crude in the eyes of an elf, or that it's proof of elven superiority... Arwen, who usually warns against "arrogance"—the quintessential elven trait—was ironically embodying it perfectly.
"Coming from a midget with a tiny chest..."
Because of this, I could understand why Cecile resorted to a personal attack. However, she was also committing a major blunder in her own right.
It would be one thing if she disparaged the race like Arwen did, but she had strictly insulted an individual. It was nothing short of a signal flare that the fight was about to veer into strange territory.
"W-What... What did you just say?"
I heard it, so there was no way Arwen, who was facing her, could have missed it. Cecile had spoken softly, but it was no different from saying it right to her face.
Arwen looked deeply flustered, instinctively covering her chest with both arms. Her silver-grey eyes were filled with embarrassment.
Despite Cecile's words, Arwen's chest could hardly be called small; in fact, it was well above average. It was just that Cecile's was overwhelmingly large.
As for her height... well, let's move past that. That wasn't a relative issue; it was absolute.
Meanwhile, Cecile snorted at the sight of Arwen covering her chest and crossed her arms with a haughty expression.
Her chest was already large enough to make her school uniform buttons look like they were about to pop, but crossing her arms gave them a truly formidable presence.
"Did I say something wrong? You were looking down on demons right in front of me, Your Majesty. Weren't you?"
"T-That may be true, but this is a personal attack!"
"Don't you think disparaging demons like that is also a personal attack against me? It's true that demon magic is somewhat more disorganized than elven magic. But to say it so bluntly without any tact... I think that's a bit much."
Unlike when she threw the personal insult, Cecile spoke calmly, but her words had a sharp edge.
An insult to demons is an insult to me. In other words, she was warning Arwen not to insult demons any further.
Furthermore, she was the Princess of Helium and the one who would ascend as the next Demon King. She had more than enough reason and justification to speak that way.
As soon as I sensed the signs of their fight escalating, I immediately stepped in to mediate.
"Arwen, Cecile is right. You might have just been speaking your mind, but it can be very offensive to the person listening. It might be true that elves are the best when it comes to magic, but please refrain from making blatant comparisons."
"...I understand. It seems I spoke out of turn."
Even if she was a half-elf, an elf was still an elf. They were a race that wouldn't swallow their pride in a field they were confident in.
As Arwen bowed her head and apologized, I turned my gaze toward Cecile. She looked triumphant now that I had taken her side, but because her arms were crossed, my eyes kept drifting toward her chest.
I felt a sudden impulse to grab them like ripe fruit, but I barely managed to suppress it. First, I had to address her fault.
"You too, Cecile. Even if Arwen was wrong, there was no need for a personal attack. You could have said it differently. Like asking if they're so confident, why did they lose to humans in the Race War?"
"But it's the truth, isn't it? I just gave back exactly what I received."
Cecile remained defiant, not yielding an inch. It seemed she had really taken Arwen's condescension toward demons to heart.
Well, it's hard to feel like apologizing when someone commits blatant racial discrimination against you. She had just been sitting there when Arwen started it.
But a personal attack was still uncalled for. If she wanted to attack, she should have attacked elves as a whole, not Arwen as an individual.
Arwen seemed to feel the same way, as she spoke up with a slightly choked voice.
"...The truth? Fine. Then I shall stop attacking demons as well."
Then, with a spiteful expression, she launched a personal attack of her own, just as Cecile had.
"You lump of fat."
"Wh-What?"
"Arwen?"
Not only Cecile but I too stared at Arwen in shock. "Lump of fat" was clearly a derogatory term for Cecile's chest.
Since it was a part of her that stood out far more than others, it was a perfect target for an attack. But at the same time, a question arose.
Isn't having a large chest a good thing? While Cecile had poked at Arwen's weakness, Arwen had practically given Cecile a compliment.
Cecile, who was initially flustered, seemed to realize this a moment later. After a brief hesitation, she let out a smug snort.
In fact, she used her crossed arms to emphasize her already prominent chest even more and replied confidently.
"Thank you. Some people don't even have these 'lumps of fat.' They're a bit inconvenient, but Isaac likes them, so it's fine."
"Why am I being brought into this?"
"What? It's true, isn't it?"
It was true, but I didn't know why she had to drag me into their fight.
"Hmm. Isaac, as a man, I can understand you. I have heard that men have preferred women with large chests since ancient times. I have even read this in books. Biologically, it is said they like them because it reminds them of a mother's embrace."
And why are you acting like this? Arwen was even nodding seriously as if she were accepting a profound truth.
As Cecile's nose turned up even higher in triumph, Arwen slowly stood up from her seat. I just watched her actions blankly.
Then, Arwen placed a hand on her slender waist and slid it down, flaunting her superior hips.
Her dress already had slits at the sides that exposed her skin, so seeing her do that was very hazardous to my heart.
"W-Well? Isn't a curve like this better than just having a lot of fat?"
"Uh..."
"I may not know about the chest, but I am confident in my lower half. I have been praised for its beauty since long ago."
For Arwen, "long ago" was quite a while back, so if she had been praised since then, it was certainly something to boast about. Indeed, her hip line was as overwhelming as Cecile's chest.
As a demon, Cecile also had excellent hips and a well-defined lower body, but she couldn't quite compare to Arwen. Furthermore, Arwen's small stature made them stand out even more.
I stared at Arwen's lower body as if possessed while sitting down, then slowly moved my gaze upward. Arwen's face, bright red with embarrassment, came into view; she clearly found this act shameful.
The way she was trying so hard not to lose made her seem even cuter, but when I looked back down, "cute" wasn't the word that came to mind.
On one side, the chest. On the other, the hips.
Truly, it was a battle of magnificent proportions.
...Wait, why am I comparing them?
I didn't know why I was comparing them. Whether it was their pride as women or something else, neither of them was backing down an inch.
They say you should watch a fire from across the river, but I felt less like a spectator and more like the person occasionally tossing kindling into the flames.
"I-I have that much too! Look!"
Perhaps sensing a crisis, Cecile suddenly stood up and placed her hands on her waist.
She then slid them down just as Arwen had done. While she was certainly well above average, she fell slightly short when compared to Arwen.
Arwen's hips were impressive, but her waist was so incredibly thin that the comparison was inevitable. Her short height was a disadvantage, but due to her elven traits, her proportions were so good that she didn't feel short at all.
Seeing this, Arwen took on a triumphant expression and spoke boldly.
"To think you would compare yourself to me with just that. How pathetic. So, Isaac. Which do you prefer?"
"What? All of a sudden?"
"That's right, Isaac. You like breasts best, don't you? You touch mine every night."
No. Why are you doing this to me all of a sudden? This had become a situation where the shrimp's back breaks in a fight between whales.
To be honest, I did like breasts, but looking at Arwen, my preference leaned toward hips.
Even in my past life, there was a saying that the first thing a man looks at in a woman is her hips. It was a sort of instinct embedded deep within the genes.
While I was having these useless thoughts, Arwen seemed to sense something strange. She blinked and asked Cecile.
"...Every night? You touch them every night? What does that mean?"
"Huh?"
"Ah."
Come to think of it, Arwen had no idea that Cecile and I were spending our nights together.
I had accidentally revealed an embarrassing truth, but Cecile didn't look flustered at all.
No, rather, she seemed to see this as an opportunity and wore a deep, meaningful smile. It was an expression full of her characteristic playfulness.
"Oh my. It seems Your Majesty didn't know. You are aware that Isaac and I are in a relationship, aren't you?"
"I-I know that... but the nights... no, before that, you are the Princess of Helium. I can understand the woman named Mari since she is human, but you..."
Arwen's confused silver-grey eyes darted back and forth between me and Cecile. I scratched my head and gave a bitter smile.
It looked like this magnificent battle was going to end in a completely different direction.
"Your Majesty knows how these things go. If two people are in a relationship, things are bound to get as hot as a volcano. It's the same for Isaac and me. We do it at least once every three days."
"..."
"Me being the Princess of Helium? That's not a problem at all. Why? Because Isaac is the author of the Xenon Biography. What could be wrong with offering my body to the benefactor who saved the demons?"
There was a high level of psychology at play here. If Cecile had just said they were in a relationship because they loved each other, Arwen would have countered.
But because she mentioned a "justification" for falling in love that was so grounded in reason, Arwen couldn't say much in response.
Though she probably likes me for who I am more than that...
The game was essentially over. The fight between the elf and the demon had unexpectedly turned into a battle between hips and breasts, and the result led directly to Arwen's defeat.
What Cecile wanted to say was that no matter how much Arwen talked, it was all meaningless as long as they weren't intimate.
Hips or whatever, you couldn't compare unless you'd shared a bed.
"So, Your Majesty. No matter how excellent your hips are, they mean nothing to Isaac. Do you understand?"
"..."
Did Arwen hate losing that much, even after the continuous onslaught?
She hesitated for a moment, glanced at me, and then squeezed her eyes shut. Her pale skin turned bright red, making her look like a tomato.
Then, Arwen's mouth twitched before she shouted out forcefully.
"It is unfair!"
"Pardon?"
"Arwen?"
Arwen's next statement was...
"Then let me spend the night with Isaac as well!"
Something that had gone seriously awry.
"That is the only way we can be compared fairly!"
It was Elven Communism.