Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 49
Chapter Title: There Are No Good High Elves in This World (3)
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The elves in Novel Online were a bit different from those in other fantasies.
First off, yes, they were the types who shot bows and lived in harmony with nature, matching the popular image.
But that was all just talk from the past.
"Our party has never had an elf join, except when Cyan came for that caravan escort request. Elves don't really use bows much these days anyway." That swordsman guy had said something like that back then for good reason.
Elf race players sometimes started with ranged weapons like bows, but most elf race NPCs favored magic.
On top of that, the elves' ultimate racial evolution was the High Elf.
And High Elves weren't suited for bows or swords at all—their stats were specialized in magic, holy power, or curses.
This was reflected in Novel Online too, with no High Elf swordsmen or archers in existence.
But...
For those who really wanted to use bows or close combat as elves, there was something prepared.
Not quite High Elf level, but elf players could switch to a race with decent magic and agility specialization.
That would be the infamous Frost Elves.
Guys who, unelflike, enjoyed meat and didn't care much for nature.
Yeah, the ones responsible for getting me on this ship right now.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "The target has blocked all attacks!"
"What? It should have anti-barrier runes engraved! How did they block it?! What the hell did they do?!"
The elves on the border were stunned by the scene before them.
The massive ballista crafted by dwarf artisans.
Its power was enough to obliterate a city in one shot and send clouds billowing.
Though vulnerable to barrier magic, that could be fixed by slightly reducing power and engraving anti-barrier runes.
So, first shot to probe the enemy's barrier, then follow-up with barrier-breaking runes.
Plus, it tracked mana stones for perfect hits.
The pinnacle of anti-air defense in Arke.
A monster born from dwarf magitech and elf magic, unmatched anywhere else.
...No, by now it was the best in the world, Arke could boast.
"Th-that thing..."
"Spit it out! How exactly did they block it?!"
And yet, they'd blocked the ballista's bolts.
Even after the first shot, with barrier-nullifying runes, the airships showed no damage whatsoever.
-Thud
What kind of bastard was this?
What kind of bastard blocked dozens of bolts worth hundreds of gold each?
That was all the elf officer could think.
He'd just gotten the report.
Five unidentified airships approaching Arke, origins unknown.
Lately, human raiders—bandits or whatever—were stealing airships and using them to raid other nations or caravans.
So he'd tried hailing them, sending signals, but no response.
Meaning the engine room was compromised.
Someone had disabled it.
Assuming they'd been hijacked, he'd tried shooting them down before they entered airspace.
But they'd blocked even those shots.
11-meter-long, over-a-ton projectiles.
"What kind of damn bastard...!"
-Flash!
"Here I am. The damn bastard you're looking for."
"...Pardon?"
And soon, the culprit appeared right before him.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 1.
《 Neutral Stage ~ Arke Border Elf Base 》 -Thwack!
"Guhk...!"
An armed elf soldier tumbled to the ground.
[Armed Elf Soldier Lv.100] That made fifteen. I'd knocked out every elf soldier inside.
When I teleported in, they freaked out and charged, but none were that strong.
"That's fifteen. You not gonna fight?"
I said to the elf in the corner who looked like some big shot, huddled against the wall.
From the wrinkles on his face, he seemed pretty old for an elf, and the vibe screamed base commander.
[Elf Commander Lv.115] "Kuh, grrr... You filthy bastards!"
-Clack!
"Hngh?!"
I strode over and grabbed him by the collar.
"Who're you calling filthy?"
Honestly, it was ridiculous.
Who attacked first, and now who's calling who filthy? And not just warning shots—they'd fired what amounted to anti-air missiles.
[What, ignoring the barrier?] I'd first tried blocking with a barrier, but when the shots pierced it, I grabbed them all by hand in surprise.
'Their power looked useful, so I stored a few in my Subspace.'
Then I flung the rest into the sky or slammed them down, each causing quakes like minor earthquakes.
Those things were straight-up modern missiles.
And they fired them at a merchant airship? In the modern world, they'd shoot down civilian passenger planes.
"You're the ones who attacked."
"Filthy thieves talking nonsense!"
...Thieves?
Ah, no way.
"Ha, you idiots."
-Thud!
"Kuhk!"
I slammed the elf commander to the floor.
For the record, I was hiding my identity with an enchanted robe.
Up close and in sight, Presence Concealment didn't kick in like usual, but...
It still hid who I was.
Not that I'd planned it—the wind blew it on while flying.
-Rustle
I took off the robe.
A bit of hair might've shown, but silver hair wasn't exclusive to High Elves.
So in this situation, wouldn't my identity help?
"H-High Elf?!"
Of course, I wasn't actually a High Elf.
"Why would a High Elf be with thieves—"
"Idiot, figure out you've got the wrong idea by now."
But technically, I hadn't lied.
I never called myself a High Elf—the guy just assumed.
Most of the others did too.
So if my identity slips later, it's your fault for assuming, got it?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Soon after, the Mires safely entered Arke and landed at the dock.
The furious captain stormed off to lodge a formal protest...
So, what was the big conclusion?
Well, first, let's track down the root cause.
《 Neutral Stage ~ Turk Merchant Headquarters 》 "Guh, grk..."
"Knees touch the floor, you get hit. Got it, Stran?"
The reason the elves attacked was simple.
["We never got any contact. Turk Merchant canceled the caravan six days ago."] ["What? We definitely said we were resuming."] Turk Merchant should've formally notified Arke of the caravan entry, but procedures were skipped.
["The captain said the same. We just checked with Turk Merchant. Apparently, the handler messed up."] ["Handler...? That bastard Stran."] So Mires was flagged unidentified, and the elves legally fired on an intruder per protocol.
Bottom line: Turk Merchant—Stran's—fault.
Per the elf head, they'd canceled all caravans days ago.
Then Stran hastily resumed without notifying Arke again.
Of course, the elves agreed to call it even.
Turk Merchant trespassed without permit, but elves tried downing a civilian ship on suspicion alone.
But even if swept under the rug, I wasn't letting it slide.
The cause needed punishment.
So I went after him.
"Already... thirty minutes... please stop..."
"Stop if you wanna live?"
"No...!"
And now, the cause—Stran—was face-down on the floor.
["Huh? Why's the High Elf here—"] ["Shut up and get down, Stran. Or I'll make you crawl forever."] ["Pardon...?"] This guy—a man—couldn't even hold prostration for thirty minutes?
His limbs were already shaking.
World natives were stronger than Earthlings, yet...
'Tch, anyone'd think this was a rocking chair or massager.'
...Well, me sitting on his back made it harder, sure.
But it's punishment—deal with it.
We nearly lost the caravan and everyone aboard to paradise.
This is light, honestly.
Considering the rushed resumption, I toned it down a bit.
"B-but how'd you get here so fast?! Even the quickest ship takes two days..."
"None of your business. Oh? Limbs sinking lower."
"Grrk...!"
For the record, I teleported here.
⚙ Teleport – Movement Magic ⚙ ※ Attribute: Physical / Range: ??? / Max Targets: ??? ▶ Magic to move to designated coordinates or visible locations. Distance and number of people depend on user's mana. With enough mana, Teleport lets you go anywhere you've been—like straight to Asral City from here.
No need to, and I didn't wanna risk trouble while away.
Just here to punish Stran.
'Oh yeah, speaking of...'
Mid-punishment, I recalled something I'd tasked him with.
"Stran, what about that thing I told you yesterday?"
"Wh-which one...?"
"There was an elf kid on Mires, right? You didn't forget?"
"Ah."
But suddenly Stran was trembling harder than before.
...Good. Now, how to kill this guy.
Crush him? Beat him? Or Demon King-style with tentacles—wait, that's pretty good.
Louis next time too.
That guy's been holed up in the lounge over a day, ignoring calls.
Ignored me—needs harsh punishment.
"Stran? Pick your death. One: stomped. Two: beaten or tentacled—"
"N-no! I found her! But it's a bit..."
"But what?"
"F-first... lemme get up. Hard to explain—gotta show you."
"No. Thirty more minutes. Didn't I say one hour flat? No tricks. Adding thirty."
"Th-that...!"