The Northern Expedition (1)

"...We're going on an expedition where?"

Friga's puzzled echo carried a sharp edge of irritation.

Selina flinched for no good reason and carefully repeated herself, enunciating every word.

"You, my lady, the Hero, the other Apostles, the Holy Knights, and the Empire's knights will all be departing on an expedition to Montegros in the North."

"To my house? Wait—hold on. 'The other Apostles' means Iscal and all those kids too?"

"Yes. Every single Apostle."

At last she had an excuse to stick close to Iscal without that thieving cat Selina around. Friga's mood lifted a fraction as she eyed the woman sitting across from her.

Going home after so long was welcome enough, but when had they ever moved this many people at once? Looking at the composition and sheer numbers alone, you could call it a war and no one would bat an eye.

"Fine. All of that's great—but I still need a reason for going."

"Of course I have to tell you. The High Priests and His Majesty the Emperor said they'll be announcing it together with the news of the expedition soon anyway. I'll give you the special early version, just for you, my lady."

With that, Selina slid two documents across the table. Friga snatched the first one with a sharp flick. Familiar handwriting filled the page—bold, forceful strokes that practically leapt off the paper.

Her father's hand. Duke Nix's.

As Friga skimmed the document, her expression grew steadily stranger. The further her eyes traveled, the more her hands began to tremble; her brow knotted tighter and tighter until a deep furrow carved itself between her eyes.

"These insane mongrel bastards. They've completely lost their minds..."

She was bubbling like an active volcano one breath away from eruption. Selina instinctively shrank back a step, then steeled herself and straightened her spine with deliberate pride.

She had nothing to feel inferior about in front of this woman. Not anymore.

"Is all of this true?"

"If—if you look at the seal at the bottom, that's Duke Nix's seal..."

Even without an axe in her hands, Friga was still terrifying. It felt exactly like a house-sized wolf pressing its teeth to her throat and drooling.

Selina's black cat tail puffed up like a foxtail and stood straight on end.

"And if—if you look at the second document, there's testimony from Lady Estel of the elf race..."

"Elves? Ah—those long-eared ones who went through the gate with that lizard before?"

"Yes. Among them, Lady Estel is the only one who remained on the surface—"

"Yeah, yeah, enough. Just wait a second. Let me read this."

Friga cut her off short and rapidly scanned the second page.

"Fire? Demon? Golden Tree... a gate?"

Short words tumbled from Friga's muttering lips. At last she finished and let out a long, heavy sigh.

"Hah—so on the other side of the gate the demon fled through, they saw a snowfield? You're telling me we're sending an entire expedition over that? Over one testimony about some snowfield in the middle of nowhere?"

"It's not only that. Coincidentally, we've also received reports that slave traders are running rampant in the North, kidnapping beastkin. We were going to move soon anyway, and then all of this piled up at once."

"Beastkin as slaves? Those gutsy little bastards."

"Right?"

The two women nodded at each other across the table. Both had stood face-to-face with a god; both could only marvel at the sheer gall of slave traders who dared snatch away people their god had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ordered them to protect.

If there was ever a time for the saying "ignorance is bravery," this was it.

"Fine. Whatever. Why are you telling me this separately? You can't even fight—you won't be coming on the expedition. And you're giving me advance notice?"

Friga crossed her arms and sank deep into her chair. The expedition was leaving either way. There had to be a reason this thieving cat was tipping her off early—especially this particular thieving cat.

"Hmm~ I wonder why?"

Selina's earlier fear had vanished. She smiled with her eyes, tail swaying lazily back and forth. The black tip flicked with sly, almost wicked grace, restless as a reed in the wind.

Her green eyes brimmed with inexplicable mischief. Friga's eyebrow twitched. Was she testing her?

There was no need to play along with such cheap theatrics. Friga shoved her chair back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and stood.

"If you're not going to tell me, forget it. Thanks for the heads-up about the expedition."

"Yeees~ See you later, my lady."

Selina's cheerful farewell, thick with laughter, floated after her.

See you later?

Why did those words bother her so much?

Several days had passed since the elves arrived in the Holy Land as new workers. Starting with Alancia, who first mastered automatic bow crafting, the rest of the elves unlocked automatic production one after another.

Maybe the initial grind had only been necessary because Alancia was the first elf to try it.

Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

"...Hmm."

Watching the screen, I could see elves wandering about in wooden clogs. The status ailments I'd noticed earlier—residential restriction and ranged-weapon restriction—still clung to them.

It was about time I found a way to lift those. I couldn't leave them clomping around in clogs forever.

"Pass me that branch over there."

"Catch it—I'm throwing!"

Thud!

"Ow!"

Barefoot elves racing through the treetops looked exactly like monkeys. Watching them leap from branch to branch was enough to draw genuine admiration; I couldn't wait to see how fast they would move once they hit the ground.

How do I clear this?

Since it was a status ailment, the healing skill should work... but this wasn't an individual debuff. It was a racial one, which made things a little fuzzy.

I'd just grab one elf and test it. Success would be ideal; failure meant I'd look for another method.

A cute little chime rang out. Two adorable angels appeared, sprinkled glittering light dust over the elf's head, and vanished. The elf who'd been dusted out of nowhere stared blankly up at the sky, completely dumbfounded.

"Oh."

Somehow it worked on the first try.

"Uh... uhhh..."

The elf still didn't seem to grasp what had happened. He showed no sign of climbing down from the tree.

If I left him alone he might never come down, so I simply dragged him out myself.

"Waaah?! Wh-whoa!! Wahahaha! Look at this! I'm flying!!"

He flailed for a moment, then immediately switched into full enjoyment mode. Completely different from the dwarves, who'd only screamed.

He seemed to like it, so I spun him around a few times before setting him down in the middle of the plains.

"W-wait?! H-h-hold on a second!!"

The closer the ground got, the more frantically the elf thrashed. Judging by the reaction alone, you'd think he was falling into lava instead of grass.

"Aaaaaaah!! Aaa... huh?"

The moment his feet touched the plains, the elf squeezed his eyes shut and trembled, then slowly opened them. He stared hard at the ground beneath his feet, as if he couldn't believe he had actually left the trees.

"Huh? Huhh?! I—I came down from the tree—"

That lasted only a second.

Then he took off across the plains like a madman.

"I came down from the tree!! From the tree! So this—this is the ground!!"

Watching him run, you'd think a zebra or gazelle from the savanna had nothing on him. The elf sprinted across the plains for a long time.

I now knew the skill could purge the status ailments. The biggest problem remained.

"How am I supposed to heal them one by one?"

Cast the skill on one, wait for the cooldown, cast on the next, wait again. I'd go insane before I finished.

In the end there was only one conclusion.

I made a modest, truly modest purchase—just one single skill. The absolute pinnacle of wise spending.

"..."

Yet somehow a lingering unease sat in a corner of my chest. A feeling of incomplete combustion.

I shoved the accumulating residue of incomplete elements into a far corner and ignored it. I was no whale. I was a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wise, planned-spending god.

No more impulsive top-ups.

...Probably.

White mist erupted from the cast point and spread rapidly. Because I'd used it around the Golden Tree where the elves clustered, every last one of them fell inside the mist's range.

Sssssss—

Like something out of an old horror movie, the thick fog billowed without pause, expanding farther and farther.

After a short wait, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my phone began vibrating like mad as messages flooded in.

...and on and on.

A true festival of notifications. It was about as noisy as three hundred people yelling in a group chat.

When the mist finally cleared, the area was packed with elves staring around in a daze. They still didn't seem to understand what had happened, so I grabbed one and dragged him down onto the plains.

"Kyaaak! Kyaaaa...ah? Huh? Huhh?"

Just like the first one, he flailed, then looked around in bewilderment.

Only then did the other elves begin climbing down from the trees one by one. Their reactions were all over the place.

One sprinted barefoot across the plains. Another wriggled his toes, savoring the feel of the grass. One even dropped to all fours and started chewing the grass...

"Hey, not this guy again."

I picked up the grass-eating elf and dropped him into the distant hot spring.

Splash!

"Aha! Hahahaha!!"

Soaking wet and looking like a drowned rat, he still burst into bright laughter as if it were the best thing in the world.

Nice to see.

Was freedom from those wooden clogs really that wonderful? A warm sense of satisfaction welled up. Today I had done something worthy of a god.

Daily One-God Achievement unlocked!

Surely some achievement like that had just popped up somewhere.

The day after I purged every last status ailment from the elves in the Holy Land...

The elves were still wandering around in wooden clogs.

"...Why?"

They weren't under any status ailment anymore. So why were they still wearing the clogs?