Chapter 397: Gold and Silver (2)
Chapter 397: Gold and Silver (2)
White snow still blanketed the ground.
It was the lingering trace of a long-lasting blizzard.
The Demon Realm was a place of eternal winter. The winds blowing from there had scattered snow across the entire North. While the North was naturally accustomed to sudden, heavy snowfall, the snow clouds rising from the Underground were a different story.
The sheer volume of the accumulation was staggering.
As cold as the North was, it was also dry. While heavy snow did fall occasionally, it wasn't a frequent occurrence. Yet, a blizzard had raged relentlessly for weeks.
If I hadn't defeated Leoric, the North would have been destroyed not by monsters, but by snow. The deep, lingering snow was proof of that.
The snow, piled ankle-deep, made walking significantly difficult. It took several times more energy to traverse the same distance through a snowfield.
It was a situation that invited cursing, but I didn't even feel like complaining.
I wasn't the only one.
The group walking ahead of me felt the same.
Slender bodies, pointed ears, and strikingly beautiful features. These people, once thought to be blessed by God, were Elves.
Enemies of humanity, and barbarians driven into the North.
I was walking behind them.
"I'm glad you're safe, human... no, did you say your name was Ian?"
It was the first time anyone had spoken during the silent march.
His gaze wasn't fixed on me, but his voice, carrying a faint warmth, betrayed his concern.
This meddlesome Elf man’s name was Luguet.
He was one of the Elves I had been particularly close with back in the Elf village, so I was able to respond with a much lighter heart.
"Call me whatever you're comfortable with."
"Still, calling you 'human' feels a bit cold, doesn't it? Even if you were the only human in the village."
"Think of it as a nickname. It makes me feel like a representative of humanity, which is nice."
As Luguet and I shared small talk, I felt glancing eyes from the surroundings.
The Elves from the village, whom I hadn't seen in a while, were clearly finding it difficult to be around me. It seemed they were already finishing their adaptation to human society.
In the past, they wouldn't have known.
They wouldn't have known just how much weight the name 'Ian Percus' carried.
I was a rising hero of humanity and one of the representative young swordsmen of the Empire. Furthermore, the members of my social circle were nothing short of illustrious.
The Yurdina family, one of the Empire's Five Great Noble Families, was on my side. Behind me stood the Princess and the Imperial Household, and the Saintess of the Holy Kingdom also shared a deep bond with me.
The fact that I was merely the second son of a rural viscount no longer mattered. I was already positioned at the very core of the Empire's power.
No matter how much I had told them before, they probably couldn't grasp it, but after living among humans at Yurdina Castle, the Elves must have naturally realized it.
The fact that the expectations humanity placed on my shoulders were no ordinary thing.
Even though I, the person himself, hadn't changed at all.
The bitter arc of my lips deepened.
Luguet bit back a bitter smile of his own.
"You know, I still don't quite know."
"About what?"
"About accepting you into the village."
I fell silent at the sudden mention of the past.
Now that I thought about it, that was how it happened.
Back then, when I had fallen into the village with only Avian, Luguet was the one who had accepted me.
I asked back, feigning a bit of hurt.
"Do you regret it?"
"In some ways."
With every step, white puffs of breath drifted into the air. Everywhere I looked, the world was nothing but pure white.
"Looking back now, I think you were too big a presence for our village to hold. We were just Elves barely scraping by on tree porridge. But after you came, too many things changed. We almost died several times."
"I'm sorry about th—"
"I'm not trying to blame you."
Isha, who was walking at the very front, gradually slowed her pace. It meant we were close to our destination.
Isha, who was usually prickly yet full of life, was unusually quiet today. But no one pried into the reason.
They could hear it without being told.
That is what long-time neighbors are.
"To be honest, at first, I was so shocked and bewildered. Why were powerless Elves like us placed in the middle of such a great war... I wondered if it would have been better to just keep boiling tree porridge and living, even if we were a bit hungry."
I silently reflected on Luguet's words.
It wasn't that I didn't understand the sentiment. Hadn't I felt the same?
One day, a love letter from the future arrived, and everything began.
Even while crossing the line between life and death and enduring pain that felt like carving my own flesh and bone, I couldn't stop the obsessive questioning.
Why am I doing this?
No, why me of all people?
No matter how much I asked, there was no answer. There were many times I was so sick of it that I wanted to let go of everything.
Nevertheless, the path continues.
All the way to where I stood now.
The grave, made of snow and wood, was indistinguishable from the surrounding landscape. At a glance, it looked like a mound naturally formed by accumulated snow.
Only then did all the Elves stop in their tracks.
A faint groan escaped from between Isha's teeth, she who had been maintaining her silence. Then, she collapsed to her knees, a few teardrops falling to the ground.
The foundation of snow and ice could not withstand that warmth.
One by one, the Elves knelt. It was the highest form of respect an Elf could show the deceased.
Only Luguet and I remained standing tall.
"...Don't you resent me?"
It was a question I barely managed to squeeze out.
From the moment I stood before the grave, my breath felt stifled. It felt as if someone else had been sacrificed because of my greed.
The tears shed by the Elves fell like rain.
Like the snowfield being struck by that warm rain, my heart felt deeply gouged. I continued my lament like a frightened child.
"If it weren't for me, Elder Pope wouldn't have had to die. You wouldn't have had to go through all that suffering, being caught between humans and Elves for no reason..."
"Thank you, human."
However, Luguet's responding voice was firmer than I had imagined, causing me to shut my mouth tight again.
Thump. An Elf's hand was placed on my shoulder.
"We have always lived in flight. For hundreds of years... Because of that, regardless of the truth, we were only obsessed with survival. Leoric exploited that weak side of ours. Having repeated nothing but running for so long, we eventually forgot even the reason why we should live."
Luguet's hand, which had patted my shoulder a couple of times, gripped my collar. Then, he began to walk forward.
Right up to the front of the grave.
Caught off guard, I was led by Luguet's hand to stand beside him.
"It must have been the same for Elder Pope. Endlessly blaming himself, and then, unable to bear it, shifting the responsibility... But in the end, he even staked his life for the humans he hated so much."
"I, well..."
"It couldn't be helped."
At that single sentence, exhaled like a sigh, I chose silence once more.
Luguet quietly knelt and spoke to me.
"There's no way around it. That's just how this world is. Fate sometimes flows with such cruel majesty that people like us are swept away by the current, unable to do anything."
I started to argue against those words, but then I stopped.
Unexpectedly, what flashed through my mind were the memories of a certain man. The life story of an unfortunate man who gradually lost his precious ones, until even his laughter and emotions were worn away.
He probably hadn't wanted to become a hero either.
"In those moments, there aren't many paths we can choose. There are only two... Will you stand and fight, or will you run?"
Luguet grasped a wooden stick that had been placed in front of the grave. Then, he handed it to me.
I hesitated for a moment, unable to guess his intention, but in the end, I had no choice but to take the stick. Luguet's expression was far too serious.
"Human, we will not run anymore."
It was then that Isha, who had been silently weeping, waved her hand.
A warm wind seemed to wrap around the wooden stick, and soon, a faint spark was ignited at its tip.
"We won't just boil tree porridge and turn our eyes away from our brothers and sisters starving to death. We won't abandon the reason we should live just for the sake of surviving."
With every word Luguet spoke, the spark at the end of the wood grew stronger. And then, with a whoosh, the flame flared up into a blaze.
I instinctively realized that this was the final step of the funeral.
Elves love and cherish nature. Therefore, they strive to understand even death as a part of nature. I had heard of their funeral customs, where they don't even leave a grave behind.
I bit my lip, wondering if this role truly suited me.
Of course, that moment didn't last long.
I squeezed my eyes shut and moved the flaming branch toward the grave. At that, the mound made of snow began to collapse helplessly.
During the ritual that lasted several minutes, Luguet confessed his resolve to me.
"...Not just us, but all of our kin."
Having guessed his intention immediately, I wore a faint smile.
It was a grand dream, unlike him.
There were still many Elves left in the coniferous forest. This was because the flesh monster had vomited out a large number of the Elves it had consumed as it shrank in size. They must be going through a very confusing time.
Luguet intended to become their central focus and stand tall as the representative of the Elves. Only then could the previous conflicts and sacrifices be prevented from repeating.
Of course, the process wouldn't be smooth. It was a terribly narrow and steep path to choose at a crossroads of fate one had been swept into.
But I didn't bother to test his resolve.
Hadn't he already said it? That they wouldn't run anymore.
So, there was only one question I had to ask.
"Do you think you can do it?"
"No, honestly, I'm not confident... but if you help me, won't it work out somehow?"
At that quintessential Luguet-like answer, I couldn't help but burst into laughter.
In the meantime, Elder Pope's burial mound had completely melted away. His soul would no longer wander the Nine Heavens; it would be embraced by nature and wait to be born as another life.
As I sent Elder Pope off, I neatly tucked away the memories I had with him in my heart.
In the end, he had changed the fate of the Elves.
"In exchange, I'll make one promise. Whenever you ask us for a favor, whatever it may be, we will definitely grant it at least once."
No, perhaps even the fate of humanity.
Elder Pope was gone, but his will would be remembered forever.
And so, I dreamed of a world where conflict had vanished.
The meeting between the two sisters in the head of the family's office appeared peaceful.
It was a repetition of exchanging greetings, hearing reports on matters to be addressed, and giving instructions.
What caused a crack in that routine was a single question.
"...Sister."
Delphine, who had been reviewing reports with a relaxed attitude, turned her eyes toward Seria.
Not a hint of hostility or wariness could be seen in those blood-red eyes. Seria, feeling utterly frustrated by that fact, clenched her fists tight.
Until her nails dug into her palms.
Seria asked in a cold voice.
"Last night, who were you with in your bedroom?"
At that, even Delphine's composure cracked for the first time.
She narrowed her eyes for a moment, looked down as if lost in thought, and then put a confident smile back on her lips.
It was a disturbance that lasted only an instant, but it couldn't deceive Seria's eyes. She was an opponent Seria had been determined to beat at least once in her life.
Delphine asked, even mixing in a light laugh.
"Why? Are you already worried about the Yurdina succession? But don't concern yourself too much. I'm still young, so..."
"Was it Senior Ian?"
And then, silence.
Seria could no longer listen to Delphine's loathsome evasion. It was inevitable that the words escaping from between her gritted teeth would turn fierce.
It was phrased as a question, but the conviction in her tone was unwavering. Delphine was not one to miss this.
So, the woman of gold could not open her mouth for a long time.
Her lips opened and closed several times.
The choice of the woman, who had been keeping silent while avoiding eye contact, was as follows.
"...And if it was?"
A Yurdina never avoids a fight.
A spark was ignited in Delphine's blood-red eyes.