Chapter 161: Why Is He So Strong? (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 161: Why Is He So Strong? (5)
“Is that… truly the truth?”
Magrina asked, her voice trembling.
“!”
Perion was struck with shock.
Queen Magrina of the Elves was a benevolent and wise ruler who smiled upon all, but she never allowed her personal emotions to surface so visibly.
That was the nature of the throne.
She was a being who had to protect her people and always stand at their forefront. She could never afford to show weakness.
Consequently, throughout the centuries of her reign, she had never once revealed any emotion other than benevolence or righteous anger in the presence of her subordinates.
Yet now, Magrina, who had maintained that ironclad rule for so long, was showing something else for the first time.
Confusion and hope.
“Quickly, tell me more.”
At Magrina’s urging, Philde broke her silence.
“First, I must state once again, Your Majesty—this is merely my speculation.”
“Even so, you believe that Marquis is the Primordial Elf… that he is my brother, do you not?”
“I do.”
“Then tell me why.”
It was a plea laced with anxiety.
Philde began to recount the events at the Palatio estate one by one.
She spoke of how the two of them had used magic from the outskirts of the estate to catch a glimpse of the Marquis.
She described how she had peered into the soul of Marquis Palatio using her Spiritual Eye.
And finally, she spoke of those black eyes at the very end.
“...Phew.”
After finishing her story, Philde took a moment to catch her breath before summarizing the core point.
“To put it simply, Marquis Palatio’s soul did not match his body. In other words, there is someone else inside the Marquis’s shell.”
“……”
“As Your Majesty knows, it is impossible for a mere human to possess such a golden soul. Just as a wise ruler cannot become a god, and a hero cannot become a god through merit alone.”
Philde looked directly at the Queen.
“...That is why I speculated that Marquis Palatio might be the Primordial Elf.”
“Then, the reason Brother cannot return is—”
“As I mentioned, there is something bizarre attached to the one I suspect to be the Primordial Elf.”
Philde felt a surge of nausea at the memory and nearly gagged, but she quickly regained her composure.
“I couldn't confirm it to the end, but from what I saw, that bizarre entity and his soul were intertwined.”
“Intertwined, you say?”
“Yes. So complexly and chaotically that they could never be separated. I believe that is likely why the Primordial Elf cannot come back to us.”
Magrina fell silent.
The corners of her eyes were trembling more violently than ever before. A gaze mixed with hope and turmoil consumed her pupils.
“Then—”
She bit her lip, her head bowed.
“Could he not have at least… said something?”
“……”
A voice thick with unshed tears leaked out.
“That he had returned, that he was alive…! Could he not have at least told me that?”
How long had she searched? How long had she waited?
To that murmur, Philde replied.
“I found that part questionable as well, but I suspect it is due to a ‘Constraint.’”
“A Constraint?”
Philde nodded.
“This part is also pure speculation, but as Your Majesty knows, it is fundamentally abnormal for the soul of the dead to occupy the body of the living. It is something that should not happen. The souls of the dead inevitably twist ‘Human Reason.’”
“Continue.”
“I believe the Primordial Elf entered into a contract involving a ‘Constraint’ with that bizarre entity. Their souls are indeed that heavily entangled. And that Constraint is likely something along the lines of… not being able to involve himself with the ties of his past life.”
“Why… why would he accept such a Constraint?”
This time, even Philde shook her head.
“That, I cannot fathom. I only inferred it from the fact that he sent a blessing in his stead to avoid direct involvement with us.”
“……”
“I say this once more, but this is strictly my own theory. I have no idea what the reality is. However, the reason I am telling you this despite that is—”
Philde glanced at Perion. He, who had been quiet until now, stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, may I continue the rest?”
“Speak.”
“...Marquis Palatio uses ‘Phrases’ and ‘Sentences.’”
“!! That means—”
“...It means he is a Magus, just like the Primordial Elf. Furthermore, after investigating him personally, I found that he is achieving feats that no mere human could ever accomplish.”
Perion paused to choose his words carefully before adding.
“He has already dealt with two Outer Gods in the past, resolved numerous incidents involving Artificial Outer Gods—and recently, it is said he even took down an Abomination. A mere human… accomplished all of that.”
“……”
“This is why we suspect him to be the Primordial Elf.”
Perion finished speaking, but the Queen remained silent.
Her heart was pounding fiercely.
Memories from hundreds of years ago played in Magrina’s mind. Memories she could never, ever lose.
‘There is no one but you.’
‘You must be the one to do it.’
‘You… must lead the elves well.’
‘I’m counting on you.’
The face of her brother, who had stroked her head with a smile even while sensing his own death.
Finally, after a long silence, the Queen spoke.
“...Perion.”
“Yes.”
“Make preparations.”
“……Pardon?”
“I must go and see him myself. I need to see him and confirm… if it is truly him.”
With eyes full of resolve, she looked at Perion.
* * *
In the end, Alon was able to clear the Iron Blood Fortress without taking any damage, thanks to Elivan’s help.
“Is this what you needed?”
“It is, but…”
“I’ll give it to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
And so, he obtained the item he wanted.
He wondered if it was alright to take it so easily, but he had no reason to refuse.
Alon accepted the item Elivan handed over with a bright smile.
It was an Object obtained from the Iron Blood Fortress. More accurately, it was an Artifact masquerading as an ‘Object.’
‘Feet Running Through the Past.’
Alon gazed at the Object, forged of dark steel in the shape of feet treading upon the earth, and spoke to Elivan.
“...Thank you.”
“No, don't mention it! You came to help me at my request anyway, Marquis! Is there anything else you might need?”
Alon shook his head.
In the first place, there was nothing else he needed from the Iron Blood Fortress besides these Feet Running Through the Past. Most of the drops here were warrior-type weapons, and even the mage-type weapons that occasionally appeared weren't particularly helpful to him.
“No, this is enough.”
Alon carefully tucked away the ‘Feet Running Through the Past.’
Soon, the open Strange Gate began to slowly vanish.
Alon’s party, having watched the sight together, moved to the nearest territory, the Duchy of Zenonia.
By the time they arrived at the Zenonia estate, the sun was already setting.
“I shall see you again next time.”
“Yes, understood! May I request your help again if I need it?”
“Sure. As long as it isn't something too unreasonable, I will listen.”
“Thank you!”
Elivan bowed deeply and headed into the estate first with his companions.
“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“I… there’s something that’s been feeling strange since a while ago. May I speak?”
“Go ahead.”
Once they were alone, Evan spoke up as if he had been waiting.
“I’ve been thinking—that fellow Elivan, he came to ask for help because he thought it would be dangerous, right?”
“He did.”
“...But it makes no sense for him to go out of his way to ask for your help when he was hiding that level of skill, does it?”
“It doesn't.”
In fact, Alon had also noticed the dissonance Evan pointed out. Elivan’s words were strangely inconsistent.
Alon stared silently at the spot where Elivan had disappeared, his expression indifferent but his mind filled with questions.
‘What exactly is he?’
He kept his mind open to various possibilities as he continued to think. Numerous thoughts flashed through his head in an instant.
He captured only those that seemed somewhat plausible.
Three hypotheses remained.
Either Elivan had brought him here for a specific purpose.
Or he intended to harm him.
…Or he had been asked by someone else.
However, Alon soon shook his head.
First, it didn't seem like Elivan intended to harm him. If that had been his intention from the start, he had plenty of opportunities before entering the Strange Gate, and even more so inside it.
‘...If anything, he was overprotective.’
His behavior in the Iron Blood Fortress was not that of someone with ill intent.
‘...Then that leaves either having a specific purpose for calling me, or being asked by someone else…’
Naturally, neither of those options pointed to anything specific. If he had suffered any kind of loss, he could have used that as a basis for speculation, but he had obtained what he needed with ease and suffered no losses at all.
Therefore.
“...I wonder.”
[Kyu?]
Alon’s confusion only deepened as he stroked the head of Blackie, who had popped out of nowhere.
* * *
“Elivan.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
“...Why did you hide it until now?”
In an inn within the Zenonia territory.
At Yan’s hesitant voice, Elivan looked at her.
“Hmm? Hide what?”
“...Your strength.”
“Ah—”
He scratched his cheek as if slightly troubled.
“Sorry. I was planning to tell you eventually—I just thought it was too early.”
Elivan replied with a smile.
However, Yan’s expression did not soften.
“...If you had that kind of power, couldn't you have helped us during the last situation, and the one before that?”
She couldn't help but feel this way. Elivan’s party had crossed the threshold of death several times until now.
“Even when Ralph was about to be crushed to death by the Giant Wood, and when my soul was almost sucked out by the Witch, you never showed that kind of power once, did you?”
She wasn't angry simply because Elivan had hidden his strength. It was the fact that he hadn't used that power even when his party members were on the verge of death.
That meant, to him, the deaths of his comrades were not important enough to warrant revealing his power.
“But for Marquis Palatio—”
Yan’s brow furrowed even deeper. To her eyes, the threat the Marquis faced seemed far safer compared to the life-and-death lines the party had crossed.
Yet, Elivan had stepped forward, breaking his secret without hesitation. A secret he had kept even when his comrades' lives were at stake.
Yet, Elivan remained serene.
“...Yan, I know what you’re trying to say.”
“Then—!”
“But this couldn't be helped. How should I put it… it’s like a ‘habit.’”
“...A habit?”
“Yes. I’m not lying. It really is a ‘habit.’”
Elivan stepped closer, his blue eyes glowing calmly, and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“And you’ll understand in time.”
“...Understand what?”
“The reason I did that.”
He enunciated each word with weight.
“That person is very important.”
His blue eyes were clouded with a deep, distant fanaticism.
“More than anyone else.”
“……”
…In the evening, under the rising blue moon.
Meeting those eyes, Yan couldn't help but feel a strange, chilling shiver.