Chapter 354: Bread and Dagger (52)
Chapter 354: Bread and Dagger (52)
In my childhood, I thought Elves were monsters.
It was the fate of one born as a noble of the Empire.
Elves had been the enemies of humanity since long ago. And since it was the Empire that primarily clashed with them, I was indoctrinated with a negative perception of their kind.
I heard stories of how many innocent people the Elves had killed.
I heard that the number of private homes they burned reached into the hundreds, and that they did not hesitate to commit atrocities during battle. As a child whose mind was not yet fully formed, I had no choice but to think as follows:
Ah, Elves are just another kind of demonic beast.
The only difference was their beautiful appearance. But wasn't that exactly what made them monsters?
However, I was no longer the hopelessly naive brat of those days.
As I grew older, my perspective gradually broadened. In doing so, I came to a realization.
It wasn't always just "bad" people who were vilified.
Power is solidified by creating enemies. Those imaginary enemies are turned into devils or monsters, regarded as targets that must be thoroughly incinerated.
Perhaps it was the same for the Elves.
I began to think that there must be good individuals even among them. While most would be filled with hatred toward humanity, surely a few would take a more moderate stance.
Thus, I once vowed that I, too, would maintain a moderate attitude.
But the power of a fixed worldview was formidable.
I had felt it over the past few days.
I viewed Elves as enemies to an extent that I couldn't help. As a noble of the Empire, they were villains who rightfully deserved to be subjugated.
It was a perception deeply rooted since my childhood.
There was no way it could be erased so easily.
To me, Elves still felt like untrustworthy, perilous beings.
And then, an event occurred that shattered that worldview.
It was happening right now, right before my eyes.
"B-bread! Is bread really this soft?!"
Isha asked me, her eyes wide with shock.
Her face was deeply moved by this newfound world of gourmet flavor. It looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment.
Though he was a bit more composed, Luguet’s reaction wasn't much different.
He stuffed the bread into his mouth with an expression of awe.
"Th-thih! I-ih thof! (This! It's soft!)"
He even ended up gulping down water in a hurry after nearly choking.
Fortunately, we were in a snowfield. Since we could just melt and distill the snow, fresh water was relatively plentiful.
The only problem was keeping it from freezing.
I let out an awkward smile and said, "It's... it's thanks to this pouch being special. Actually, the longer you store bread, the harder and less tasty it becomes. And above all, this has quite a lot of seasoning like sugar in it..."
"Sugar!"
The cheers the Elves showed at my every word were quite passionate.
The same went for the Elven woman who introduced herself as "Miera." I was told she was older than Isha and was called "Aunt Miera," but honestly, I couldn't tell the difference with my own eyes.
They both just looked like they were around my age.
They truly lived up to the reputation of Elves, who supposedly do not age until just before they die.
Her elegant, reddish-brown hair was striking.
Aunt Miera asked me with sparkling eyes, "I've heard of it—a stone that tastes sweet? There are records that our ancestors used it in cooking a long time ago..."
"Do records from that time still exist?"
"Of course! We value tradition. Also, since we live so long, if something is lost, there are plenty of people who can rewrite it from memory... Hmm, if you're curious, shall I teach you our traditional Elven recipes?"
That was an interesting proposition.
If that were the case, there was a possibility that records from thousands of years ago were still preserved. Might there also be information about the Dark Cult written there?
To be honest, I was also curious about traditional Elven cuisine from thousands of years ago.
It would be the cooking from the time they resided in the Great Forest. Since they had been driven to the northernmost reaches of the continent, it would be impossible to obtain the ingredients from that era.
But what if I could recreate them with the ingredients I had?
Wouldn't that also be useful for gaining the Elves' favor?
In truth, it was a pointless worry.
The Elves were already showing a surprisingly favorable opinion of me just because of a single piece of bread.
They didn't seem like a people who had lived under persecution for hundreds of years.
If anything, they were closer to simple country folk.
That point was particularly baffling to me.
It felt as though they were no different from the people of my hometown.
"I would be grateful if you could teach me. I want to be exposed to as much information as possible. I feel like doing so might help my memories return..."
"Oh, you poor thing."
Aunt Miera immediately gave me a look of pity.
Since she had children of her own, she seemed exceptionally sympathetic. It was an emotion usually hard to find in those who were hungry and poor.
When you're struggling just to survive, who has the luxury to look after and care for someone else?
Compared to that, the Elves possessed a more generous nature.
Was it because they lived so long?
Aunt Miera comforted me as if telling me not to worry.
"Don't worry too much, kid. I was so scared when I heard there was a human with a sword and an axe! But seeing you now, you're quite reliable, and you even gave us bread..."
"He's not much different from us, is he?"
The Elf who chimed in was a muscular man called "Dolph."
He said he served as the village carpenter. Along with being a woodsman, an architect, and so on.
Such things were common in small rural villages.
"I... I like him. Above all, the fact that he came all this way to save that little Elf child is touching. Even among Elves these days, it's hard to see such camaraderie."
"Yeah, stay here for a while and take your time to think. Honestly, our situation isn't great... but there will be time to prepare for your departure once you regain your memory."
From Miera to Dolph to Luguet.
These were the Elves who were favorable toward me. The others were still watching me with wary eyes.
Of course, they seemed to feel some gratitude after being given the bread.
Still, it was a more moderate treatment than I had imagined. I was even a bit confused.
These weren't the Elves I had expected.
I had anticipated a race that was more hostile toward humans, one that had become cruel and fierce after being entangled in countless grudges.
But the ones I faced now all seemed ordinary.
At this rate, weren't they virtually the same as humanity?
Suddenly, I felt my trachea constrict. I was abruptly breathless.
The images surfaced.
The countless Elves who had fallen before my sword and axe.
Just before I could strike my chest in unbearable distress—
"Even so, a human is still a human!"
A crotchety voice struck my ears.
That sudden accusation actually allowed me to breathe again. I turned my head toward the direction the shout had come from.
Sitting there was a boy who looked to be in his mid-to-late teens at most.
Luguet nudged my side and whispered, "That's 'Old Man Pope.'"
An old man?
I was even more surprised by that title. He looked younger than the other Elves around him.
Pope was glaring at me with a heavy scowl.
In front of him sat his untouched piece of bread. Judging by the way his eyes kept darting toward it, he clearly wanted to eat it, but his pride wouldn't allow it.
As the eyes of the group gathered on him, he raised his voice even louder.
"Humans are all untrustworthy! Have you all forgotten after being treated like that?! Why do you think we were pushed all the way to this cold, barren North!"
Old Man Pope stood up abruptly, unable to contain his rage.
Thump, thump. The way his feet stomped the ground gave a sense of the scale of his anger.
In his behavior at least, he truly was an old man.
I let out a low hum and observed Pope.
I wasn't angry. On the contrary, I found myself feeling relieved looking at him.
Yes, this is what an Elf should be like.
I felt my distorted worldview being gradually restored. The breathing that had been stifled just moments ago became smooth.
Old Man Pope glared at me with eyes full of hatred.
"It's still vivid before my eyes! Those devilish humans who raided our village... Yes, that one was a knight who carried a fancy sword just like you."
"Old Man Pope..."
In the end, it was Luguet who stepped in to mediate.
He, along with Isha, seemed to possess the full trust of the village Elves. One could even say he was the village leader.
A voice bordering on a plea escaped the man's mouth.
"Of course we should be wary of humans. But he's the person who protected one of our Elven children, isn't he? Surely a child who received a 'Blessing' wouldn't lie... Right, Old Man Pope? You know well since you've received a 'Blessing' too."
"Ahem!"
So he had received a "Blessing."
That was interesting information. My eyes scanned Old Man Pope's body anew.
On the surface, he just looked like a little boy with dark green hair. But to think that inside him, too, resided that hideous lump of flesh that had dwelled within Avian and the Snow Leopard Majin.
Pope puffed out his chest, unable to hide his pride.
"I-is that not because Lord Leoric recognized my faith?"
"And thanks to that, you've sent a massive amount of prey to headquarters. You're the only Elf we can rely on to provide meat for our village, Old Man."
"Back then, I thought that if I just got the 'Blessing,' I'd be able to catch even more prey!"
Perhaps feeling a bit guilty, Pope snapped back at Luguet's point.
Of course, it didn't hold much weight.
As Luguet shook his head as if he were helpless, Pope cleared his throat a few more times and then turned his back. He spat out a few final words before leaving.
"Anyway, you can't trust humans! Everyone, listen to me well, or you'll regret it!"
"Old Man, you should at least eat the bread before you go!"
"Hmph, who knows if it's poisoned?"
In the end, Luguet sat back down as if giving up.
He had stood up to stop Pope, but he seemed to realize it was futile.
I heard Isha click her tongue quietly.
"He's the same as ever, Old Man Pope..."
Her tone suggested there was a story behind it.
My curiosity piqued, I quietly approached Isha's side and asked, "Who is that person, exactly?"
"Whoa, you scared me!"
Isha jumped at my silent approach.
Her round eyes turned toward me, but I remained composed. I asked again.
"Did I do something wrong? It seems Old Man Pope dislikes me..."
"Th-that's just because you're a human!"
I couldn't tell if Isha wanted to comfort me or blame me.
She continued in a confused tone.
"Old Man Pope... he lost his family to humans in the past. It was a massacre that happened while they were living peacefully in their village."
"They were living peacefully and were attacked?"
"Yeah, that's just the kind of thing you humans do!"
Isha began to huff with indignation, looking at me as if I were loathsome.
She seemed genuinely resentful.
"Do you think it's just Old Man Pope?! There are many Elves who starved to death because you people periodically burned our granaries! It's only because we have hunters like Old Man Pope that we aren't starving to death right now..."
I listened silently to her words and nodded.
It was an interesting story.
"So he was a hunter."
"...Hey, are you even listening to me?"
Of course I was listening.
Only to the parts I needed.
I finished my calculations internally.
To be honest, I felt more comfortable with Pope than with Luguet or Aunt Miera. Even just seeing him dislike and hate me made it so.
He was exactly the kind of Elf I knew.
A relationship where we could maintain our guard and clash blades if necessary.
It was ideal.
Because someday, I would have to leave this Elven village.
It was best not to leave even a shred of lingering attachment.
And he also seemed to know many secrets.
Starting from Leoric's "Blessing" to the army that supposedly raided the peaceful Elven village.
I decided that I should try to increase my points of contact with him.
"Hey, I'm telling you this just in case... don't get cocky just because you're wearing a sword, okay? Even if he looks like that, Old Man Pope is a very strong hunter who has even hunted a Snow Leopard Demonic Beast!"
Hunting, huh.
I toyed with the sword and hand axe hanging at my waist.
It wasn't a bad hobby.