How to Apologize
I stared at her and asked, "Do you honestly think that makes any sense, Latipi?"
"I see no reason why it shouldn't," she replied without missing a beat. "It is only natural. If anything, wouldn't it be far more unnatural for there to be no elves at the side of the Incarnation?"
"......"
I was genuinely at a loss for words. Her expression was far too earnest for comfort.
"Haah... No, wait. Is that even remotely possible in the first place? Exactly how many residents are in your village?"
"Our total population is roughly thirty thousand."
"...There were that many of you?"
When I tilted my head in doubt, she nodded as if anticipating my confusion. "You have likely only seen our combatants, Lord Alzen. Furthermore, the architecture of our village does not lend itself to an intuitive census. But yes, if one accounts for the children, that is our approximate number."
"...There's an age limit on combatants?"
"Indeed. Generally, one is recognized as a combatant only after reaching two hundred years of age."
"......"
So in human terms, that's roughly... twenty? No, whichever way I sliced it, that conversion couldn't possibly be right.
"How many combatants does the village have?"
"Around ten thousand, give or take."
"......"
Does that mean most of the village consists of children? I could count on one hand the number of elves I'd seen who looked anything like children. Virtually every elf I'd laid eyes on appeared fully grown.
"Haah..." I rubbed my temples. An elf's perception of time was entirely beyond my comprehension. "Forget it. Absolutely not."
"Whatever for?" Latipi tilted her head, looking utterly bewildered.
"If all of you leave, who's going to protect the World Tree?"
"You need not concern yourself with that. While I did say all of us would accompany you, we intend to leave behind several guardians, including Benoite."
"...And moving a crowd that size introduces massive supply issues—"
"An elf suffers no ill effects from going hungry for a few days. Besides, the surrounding wilderness is overflowing with sustenance, so what difficulty could there possibly be? It is a common misconception, but elves are omnivorous."
I let out a weary sigh as she countered every single point with brisk efficiency. "...I'll just be blunt with you. Taking all of you along sounds like a massive pain in the ass."
"Wh-what...?"
As if struck by an earth-shattering revelation, the color drained from her face, and she swayed on her feet, struggling to keep her balance. "Wh-what about us is... What seems to be the issue? Please, just tell me, and we will rectify every last fault! So please, I beg of you...!"
"It's precisely that kind of thing... Argh, seriously." Seeing that she had no intention of dropping the matter, I massaged my throbbing head and held up a hand. "Fine, fine. I get it. I'll permit it."
"Ah...! Truly?! Thank you! We will never cause you the slightest inconvenience, so—"
Cutting off her radiant, instantly brightening expression, I thrust a single finger before her eyes. "On one condition. No mass migration. One person. Only a single person gets to come with me."
"O-one... person? That is...!"
As if she had just heard the most unspeakable horror imaginable, Latipi turned deathly pale and swallowed dryly. "Does that mean... we are to execute every last elf, leaving only one alive...?"
"...?"
What kind of catastrophic mental gymnastics could possibly lead to that conclusion?
"Are you missing a chunk of your brain?"
"Th-that was... not what you meant...?"
When I gave her a look of utter pity, she let out a shaky sigh of relief, though she still pressed forward carefully to decipher my true intentions. "I meant literally what I said: only one person is to follow me. Is that concept really that hard to grasp?"
"One... just one...? Is such a thing even possible...? No, wait, umm..."
"...Was what I said really that complicated? Seriously?"
As I stared at her in utter disbelief, she offered a strained, awkward smile, looking as though her worldview had suffered a fatal error. "The thing is... Well, it directly conflicts with the divine presence we perceive from you, Lord Alzen..."
"My presence? What the hell kind of image do you people have of me?"
"Well... as if you might lead, deliver, and bestow your holy blessings upon every living elf this very second...?"
"......"
That damn World Tree bastard, just what kind of nonsense did it plant inside me?
"Haah... Whatever. Just pick one person to follow... Actually, never mind. Latipi, you just come along yourself."
"M-me? May I truly be the one?"
"If you don't want to, then forget it."
"N-no, by no means...! Yes! If I have been chosen, there is no greater honor! I shall go inform the others at once!"
Beaming with joy, she dashed off somewhere, only to return a short while later trailing several hundred elves behind her.
"...And what circus is this supposed to be?"
"Ah, well, you see..." Latipi glanced around uneasily, reading the room. "My kin refused to believe my words... and insisted on hearing them directly from your lips..."
"...Ah."
So you're telling me I have to persuade this entire mob myself?
I really, truly, despise elves.
Persuading those pointy-eared fanatics took an agonizing three days.
Repeating the same explanations until I was thoroughly sick of my own voice, I finally escaped the suffocating canopy of the Great Forest. The moment the bleak, desolate expanse of the Wasteland unfolded before us, a shiver of pure, unobstructed relief ran down my spine. The carriage, drawn by golem horses, was trotting across the barren plains at a steady pace.
"Phew... We're finally out. Dammit..."
"Ahem. M-my deepest apologies. My kin can be rather... stubborn..."
"If you knew that, couldn't you have lent a hand, you pointy-eared freak?"
"Ahaha..."
Breaking out into a guilty cold sweat, Latipi twitched her long ears while sneaking glances at my face.
"...Hey."
"Yes, please speak."
"Let me touch your ears."
"Y-yes?! What?!" Thoroughly flustered, she clamped her hands over her ears by sheer reflex.
I'd never felt this urge looking at Nemeth's ears, but perhaps because Latipi's fair skin showed curves and shadows much more sharply, I was a bit curious about what they felt like. ...And honestly, I also wanted to tease her for siding with the mob of elves instead of helping me during those three miserable days of debate.
"M-my ears, of all things..."
Of course, elves took immense pride in their long ears and attached profound significance to them. Touching an elf's ears was an intimate privilege reserved strictly for lovers or spouses.
"Why? Not allowed?"
When I pressed the question with a mischievous grin, watching her face flush crimson, her ears twitched beneath her fingers. Squeezing her eyes shut, she gave a hesitant, agonizingly slow nod.
"P-please treat me gently...! Though this body is unworthy, I shall dedicate my entire life to serving you...!"
"You're making a colossal drama over a simple ear rub." Chuckling, I reached out toward her ear.
Sensing my approach even with her eyes shut, Latipi trembled slightly, her long ear standing ramrod straight. ...She really was quite cute, purely on an aesthetic level.
"Hm?"
Before my fingers could make contact, however, a slender hand caught my wrist. Nemeth had closed the distance without making a sound.
"What's this, Nemeth? Why the hold-up?"
"Pardon? Ah, um... That is..." Flustered by her own impulsive action, she hesitated for a beat before schooling her features into a stern, resolute expression. "Lord Alzen. An elf's ears are not an area one may touch with such casual flippancy."
"I know."
"You know...? What do you mean by that?" Her brow furrowed sharply. It wasn't disgust or offense, but rather an expression that practically screamed I cannot accept this or I refuse to acknowledge this.
"I was just going to tease her because she pissed me off earlier."
"...Ah, s-so that was your reason. Th-that is... Ahem, if that is all, then I suppose it is fine..."
I stared intently at her as she awkwardly released my wrist. "Nemeth. Were you misunderstanding something?"
"Pardon?! Ah, um... Ahem. Yes. I was slightly mistaken. My apologies."
"Mistaken about what?"
"Ah, well... um..."
Watching her stammer in profound embarrassment, I broke into a broad grin. A golden opportunity to tease her mercilessly had just landed right in my lap.
"What's with this suspicious reaction? You weren't having weird thoughts, were you?"
"What?! N-no! I harbored no strange thoughts whatsoever!"
"Then what are those 'strange thoughts'? What were you imagining?"
"No... that... it was nothing of the..."
Cutting through her desperate stammering, I casually wrapped an arm around her waist.
"Ahng...?"
"Doesn't seem like nothing to me, does it? Hmm? Come on, tell me. What did you picture in that head of yours?"
"......"
As she obstinately clamped her mouth shut, her face burning, my hand drifted gently along her waistline. "Could it be that you were jealous?"
"Pardon?! N-no, I wasn't...!"
Struck right where it hurt, she couldn't finish her sentence and hung her head low.
"Jealousy, huh... Hmm, how strange. Nemeth, didn't you tell me before that you harbored no romantic feelings toward me?"
"......"
"Besides, you've never shown this kind of reaction whenever I fooled around with other women, yet you react like this the moment it's Latipi..."
"......"
"Ah, I get it now. Come to think of it, didn't you say dark elves have been discriminated against and persecuted ever since the curse of the World Tree took hold? Could it be that you still harbor lingering resentment?"
"Th-that is..."
Unable to deny it, Nemeth fell completely silent, which only widened my grin. "Aha, so you couldn't stomach the thought of Latipi receiving a touch that even you haven't experienced yet? You felt your seniority had to remain undisputed, didn't you?"
Whoosh. Heat exploded across Nemeth's entire face until she was glowing cherry red. "It... it is not like that..."
"Well, I think that's entirely reasonable. Nobody knows how nasty elven temperaments can be better than I do. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of misery you've endured." Tsking softly, I turned my gaze toward Latipi.
"......"
Flinching, Latipi twiddled her thumbs, frantically darting her eyes between Nemeth and me.
"Don't you have anything to say for yourself, Latipi?"
"...Indeed. While an apology could never undo the past, if it is for the sake of atonement, I must take action in any way I can." With a solemn, stiff expression, she bowed deeply at the waist toward Nemeth. "I am sorry, Nazareth Nemeth. Through our prejudice, delusions, and sheer incompetence, we committed grave sins against you and your kin. I do not dare ask for your forgiveness. However... I promise you this: from this day forward, I shall devote myself to atoning to you."
"......"
Confronted with such an abrupt, formal apology, Nemeth froze, glaring uncomfortably at the back of her head.
"Ah, no, that's all wrong, Latipi. That apology of yours has zero swing to it."
"...Pardon?"
Meeting her wide, uncomprehending gaze, I flashed an utterly devious smirk. "You claim you want to atone through action, yet all you do is bow from the waist? That hardly cuts it, don't you think?"
"Th-then... what ought I to do...?" Sensing an ominous turn of events, a drop of cold sweat traced her cheek as she asked with cautious hesitation.
"First, you need to strip, don't you?"
"...Excuse me?"
A few moments later.
Having neatly folded all her garments, Latipi knelt entirely nude, her porcelain skin exposed and her face ablaze with crimson embarrassment. She pressed her forehead flat against the wooden floor of the carriage.
Her pristine, slender body curved in an elegant arc, and seeing her surprisingly bountiful breasts squished against the floorboards was a sight so breathtaking it felt as though it added years to my lifespan.
"I am... truly sorry."
"Ah, magnificent~ That's what I'm talking about. When it comes to sincere apologies, nothing beats a Naked Dogeza, right?"
"Uh, er..."
Nemeth was utterly bewildered, entirely at a loss for what to do with herself. "L-Lord Alzen. I never desired anything of this magnitude..."
"Well, I desired it."
"What?"
"If an opportunity arises to appreciate the naked body of such a beauty, a man takes it. Isn't that obvious?"
"......"
Ignoring Nemeth's half-lidded, exasperated glare, I brought my palm down across Latipi's taut, perky bottom with a crisp smack!
"Ahhn?!"
Though we were tucked into a corner, that suggestive whimper echoed clearly enough to draw curious, peeking glances from nearby passengers.
"Real classy. With children around, no less..."
Weller glared at me with scathing sarcasm, but I paid her no heed, thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of Latipi's naked prostration.
The carriage sped across the wasteland, hurtling toward the barbarian tribes.
Directly toward the Kubel's Claw tribe, whose chieftain was none other than the traitor of the Stanasila Ducal House—Stanasila Lindel.