Chapter 248
Chapter 248
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 248
Chapter Title: Alfheim's Elves ? Alfheim's Fairies #8
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Elfride, who had been thrashing about violently until just moments ago, became remarkably docile the instant she entered this sealed, pitch-dark room.
Was it because her head hit the floor when I tossed her onto the bed?
For a split second, I panicked, wondering if she'd damaged her frontal lobe, but seeing those ruby eyes glaring at me silently with a furrowed brow told me that wasn't the case.
Elfride was stewing in her rage right now.
Back when I was her slave, I'd categorized Elfride's levels of anger into three stages.
First came little anger.
This was the phase where she'd just frown and start muttering things like "Ha-?" It was easy to trigger—just ignore her on purpose, pretend not to hear what she said, or sleep in late.
It happened about once a day.
At times like that, she'd toss out some curses or lightly smack my head with her palm. Dissipating little anger was surprisingly simple; an apology or a shoulder massage would clear it right up.
Then there was medium anger.
This kicked in if I accidentally stepped on her foot or slacked off and ignored her orders.
Her brow would scrunch up tight, her face flushing red, and instead of mere interjections like "Ha-?", full-blown curses would start flying from her mouth while her hand hovered near the whip at her waist.
It happened two or three times a week, and soothing her then was pretty tough. Unless I grilled her favorite meat just right and served it with a veggie salad, the anger would drag on.
If that medium anger didn't fade and I pushed her further, she'd erupt into great anger.
Great anger exploded like the outburst I'd seen earlier—swinging fists at me and unleashing a barrage of curses.
It usually blew up when I badmouthed her as a "bitchy elf" or dodged her whip lashes with clever footwork.
When that happened, nothing worked to calm her down.
I just had to take the beating.
Like a baby pigeon waiting out a storm, all I could do was huddle on the floor, head bowed, trembling.
The silver lining was that great anger only struck about once a month.
"...."
I eyed Elfride uneasily as she sat on the floor, rubbing her forehead. She'd passed through great anger and fallen completely silent.
This was beyond her three stages of rage—a realm of silence.
Her anger had spun her 180 degrees, and then another 180 degrees of fury brought her back to the starting point.
It was a state so intense it almost looked calm.
I hadn't named this stage yet.
I'd only witnessed it once before, back when I declared my freedom from her.
Since I figured I'd never deal with her anger again, I hadn't bothered naming it.
But now that things had reached this point, it seemed like it needed a proper label.
She looked subdued, almost down in the dumps, sitting there on the floor.
How about "Elfride Fold-Down Mode"?
Why the hell was I seriously pondering shit like this?
My slave-conditioned brain, sensing Elfride's fury, had kicked in a defense mechanism, flooding my head with pointless distractions.
If I just submitted to her now, nothing would change.
I wasn't her slave anymore, so I didn't have to take her crap.
With that, I spoke as casually as I could.
"Come on, stick out your foot, Elfride."
"...Why should I?"
"You said you could show your feet to anyone without a care, right? They're not gonna wear out—now show 'em to me."
"...."
Elfride looked up at me from below, standing tall and defiant.
God, who would've thought I'd ever tower over Elfride like this in my lifetime? It felt strangely novel, even a bit triumphant.
Sruk.
But the foot in her slipper quickly slipped under the hem of her loose clinic dress, vanishing like a snail retreating into its shell.
"Fuck off, you moron. I'm not listening to a word you say."
She even stuck her tongue out at me in a clumsy taunt, reminding me of those elementary school girls who used to bully me.
It was childish as hell, but so primal and textbook that I nearly snapped back in anger without thinking.
"Damn it. Someone's trying to help you here—do you have to be such a pain in the ass?"
What if I just let the elves grab her and left her to be enslaved or hanged? Then I'd never have to see her face again—sounded perfect, right?
I'd come to Sodoma from Calcutta just to avoid seeing her face, and when I learned she'd shown up here too, I'd wake up in cold sweats from stress.
If the elves took her away, I'd never have to see her again, and I could get back to my own life.
Ignoring whatever happened to her from here on out would be best for me.
"You're gonna help me? For what reason? The commission? How amazing must this commission be? Just ditch me. You're good at ditching me—you've done it once already. First time's hard, second time's easy."
Damn that bitchy elf....
Ditching her would make things so much easier.
I knew that full well, yet here I was reacting to her.
Why couldn't I just let go?
She was like a shackle to me—something I'd never forget, following me to the end.
If I sent her away now, wouldn't I spend my life shackled, forever defeated by her?
Living as a loser eternally was pretty damn terrifying.
Sure, for an ordinary guy like Hassan, but not for Hatsan of Samaria, who had to become a hero.
Alright, calming down now.
As I opened my mouth with that resolve, Elfride rose from her spot with a sruk and perched on the bed, shooting me a cheeky glare.
"You're the one who likes me, aren't you?"
"What?"
"You're the one who likes me—that's why you can't let go, even when I curse you out and trash you."
"What bullshit is that? Why the hell would I like you?"
"You like getting hit, don't you, Hassan? You like getting chewed out by me too."
"What the fuck are you babbling about? You crazy?"
"That's why you're clinging to me like this, right? Looks like things aren't working out with that ridiculous pink-haired girl."
"Why bring up Luna out of nowhere? No matter how hard you try, you can't even touch the tip of her toe."
"Oh yeah? That's what you say. Did you two sleep together or something?"
"What?"
For a moment, I felt the pigeon meat from breakfast surging up my throat. Was there anything more bewildering than this? My mind went completely blank from the shock.
"No, we didn't."
"I figured out ages ago that you two are shacking up. A man and a woman under one roof—obvious what happens. So, did you sleep with her?"
Elfride had noticed we were living together. Back then? When she came to the cabin asking me to introduce her to Hippolyte.
She'd been eyeing the bathroom and bedroom furniture pretty closely. Her instincts were creepy sharp, as always.
Hassan preying on a chastity vow keeper.
If word got out, it'd be a disaster in every way. So I mustered superhuman patience and composure, replying nonchalantly.
"Luna's a chastity vow keeper. She's not like some girl who flashes her soles to any guy."
"What?"
Elfride, who'd been attacking me until seconds ago, furrowed her brow.
"W-What do you mean, flashing to any guys? What kinda moronic crap is that?"
"Oh, come on, you know exactly what I mean. Feet are just body parts, right? They don't wear out—so doesn't that mean you've been showing them off to anyone and everyone?"
"...."
Elfride's face boiled over again. I felt a rush of satisfaction. Serves you right, Elfride—you fell into your own trap.
I decided to sink her completely with a finishing blow.
I loaded it up from my gut to my throat, then out through my tongue and lips like a torpedo.
"Me, like you? Don't make me laugh. Even if you stripped naked, I wouldn't bat an eye."
"...."
Elfride was speechless. That meant total victory for me.
I'd beaten Elfride in a war of words. Look at her blushing, unable to retort. She looked pissed.
As I smirked inwardly, something felt off.
Her trembling face, which seemed furious, was gradually relaxing.
She was smiling.
Not shaking from anger—she'd been holding back laughter.
What the hell?
My mind reeled like I'd stumbled into an inescapable labyrinth or trap when Elfride spoke.
"Then prove it."
"What?"
"You said no matter what I do, you won't react. Prove how much you love that Knoxdoti girl."
"How the hell do I prove that? Can't exactly rip out my heart and show you."
"If what you say is true, you won't react to anything I do. Because you don't like me. But if you do react, that means you like me."
Elfride, perched on the bed, extended her leg toward me.
Her slipper dangled loosely as her leg slid between my calves, up over my knee and thigh.
I tensed, wondering if she'd kick my groin, but thankfully, no.
Elfride said,
"Showing you my feet? Doesn't faze me at all. Not even a ripple in my heart. Because I feel nothing for you. You're a slave. Just an object. But what about you?"
Swik, swik—.
Her foot moved between my legs. Eventually, the loose slipper slipped off her sole and tumbled to the floor.
Now bare, Elfride's foot began caressing my knee and thigh.
Did this girl know no shame? How could an adult woman bare her feet to a man like this?
Maybe showing feet really didn't bother Elfride at all.
But last time, when Delphina asked me to massage her and I was hiding my identity, she hadn't shown them to me.
The more I learned, the less I understood—like I'd become a scarecrow trapped in Elfride's snare.
"Why so quiet? Scared? If you're scared, admit it and drop dead. Even next to that Luna girl, you can't forget me. That's why you came back, right? You couldn't stand me becoming some other guy's slave."
"...."
"You want to own me, don't you, Hassan? You, my former slave, now want to possess me? That Luna girl's just someone you're seeing to forget me, right?"
Seeing her so smug, I knew I couldn't let it stand. I'd known for ages that she enjoyed men's stares and used them.
At this point, her mental issues were axe-murderer level.
"Fine, let's make it a bet, Elfride. Just like you said—who reacts first."
"Ha? A bet? Sure, do your worst, moron. You think I'll chicken out just 'cause I said that?"
"Don't whine later, bitchy elf."
At her words, I grabbed the ankle of the foot teasing between my legs. It was slim, as always.
Who'd have thought I'd ever hold this again.
To prove my pure love for Luna, I'd conquer Elfride.
I slowly moved my hand gripping her ankle, stroking her sole without hesitation.
Malcang.
Soft, slender toes.
The arched shape of her sole was always fascinating to touch. Still as cold as ever.
Swik.
I ran my thumb along it once.
Wondering her reaction, I glanced at Elfride—she wore an aloof expression, utterly unfazed.
Elfride said,
"First one to react loses."
"First?"
As I voiced my confusion, sruk.
Her other sole slipped free of its slipper and climbed my thigh.
"If I make you hard, I win. Like you said, no matter what I do, you won't get excited, right? Isn't that so?"