Chapter 187: Greinif (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 187: Greinif (3)
Gillan, the younger brother of Philian, was the man currently known as Duke Merkillan.
Under normal circumstances, he should have been at the ducal estate.
The reason was obvious: to manage the territory.
Of course, several years had passed since the Outer God incident involving Duke Comallon, and the damage from that time had been fully repaired. However, the issue of the ducal succession, which had been handled with extreme haste, remained.
The sudden death of the previous Duke.
Because of it, a proper succession process could not be carried out, and power had not been fully transferred to Gillan. There were still several vassals who had not yet come under his influence.
Furthermore, the fact that Gillan was the second son served as excellent bait. No matter how much the eldest son, Philian, acknowledged him, it remained a valid political pretext for others to extend their reach into the weakened ducal house.
In any case, due to this series of circumstances, Gillan led a quite busy life. Normally, he should have been at the estate today, wrestling with paperwork.
Normally, that is.
"Hmm, so Marquis Palatio has vacated his seat for a while?"
"I heard he will be away for over a month."
Currently, Duke Merkillan was at the Marquis Palatio’s estate. He was there because an order had been handed down by Shuhtalian V.
'Go and verify the true identity of Marquis Palatio.'
It was a somewhat absurd command—one that would make anyone ask, "What on earth does that mean?"
It was just that single sentence. There was no detailed explanation.
Since it was a royal command, he had no choice but to obey, but from Gillan's perspective, it was baffling. Moreover, hadn't he been receiving constant help from Shuhtalian V since the time of Duke Comallon?
He couldn't refuse, so he had come to the Marquisate. And he wasn't alone; he was accompanied by the Ink-Black Knight, whom Shuhtalian V had kept by his side for some time.
'What in the world is the meaning of this...?'
Gillan—that is, Duke Merkillan—let out a sigh even as he waited for the knight's response. Absurdly, he had also received an order from Shuhtalian V to treat the knight before him with the utmost courtesy.
'...Who exactly is he?'
From beginning to end, he understood nothing.
The Ink-Black Knight pondered for a moment before speaking.
"Hmm—let's wait a little longer, then."
At those words, the Duke asked back, "You intend to wait?"
"Yes. Since we've come all this way, shouldn't we at least verify it?"
There was a hint of playfulness in the knight's voice. Gillan sighed as if he had no choice. In truth, from the moment he received the order from Shuhtalian V, he hadn't been in a position to decide anything for himself.
"Very well, then."
At this point, he could no longer suppress his curiosity.
"By the way, may I ask you something?"
"If it's something I can answer."
"...I received an order to verify the true identity of Marquis Palatio."
"And?"
"Is the Marquis's identity... well, is he actually not human? For instance, a demi-human hiding his identity, or perhaps a monster—"
"Pwahahahaha!"
"?"
The knight burst into boisterous laughter at the question, as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Duke Merkillan’s brow furrowed slightly.
"...Is it that amusing?"
"Ah—my apologies. Hearing something like that so suddenly just made me feel a bit merry."
From inside the unseen helmet, a continuous "Hehehe—" sound leaked out before abruptly stopping.
"Naturally, if the Marquis's identity were a demi-human or a monster, there would be no need for me to come here personally."
"Then, what exactly is the Marquis's identity?"
The answer came immediately.
"A God."
"...What?"
The single word vibrated vividly in the air.
"A God. I am here to verify whether Marquis Palatio is a God."
At the following words, Duke Merkillan’s mouth fell open.
"Marquis Palatio is—"
He looked as if he had just heard something utterly impossible to believe.
"...You're saying he's a God?"
"Of course, it's not confirmed yet. I haven't verified it myself. But, well, almost."
The Duke's jaw could only drop further.
* * *
Even if Lecon hadn't warned him, Alon was already somewhat aware.
He knew that Elves were fundamentally very hostile toward humans. This was because the lore regarding Elves was briefly revealed when meeting Perion during a playthrough of Psychedelia.
Of course, the exact reason why they hated humans wasn't properly explained, but the important thing was the fact that Elves disliked humans more than one might imagine.
And yet.
"...You were... waiting for me?"
Alon was clearly bewildered by the current situation.
"Yes. We have been waiting for you."
A young Elf with a gentle smile. No, beyond gentle, he was downright polite.
An Elf being this kind to a human?
...Something was definitely, seriously wrong.
'Could they be mistaking me for someone else?'
Even so, Alon was a human. There was no way they would mistake him for another Elf...
Just as he was cycling through various theories without finding a plausible one, the Elf spoke again.
"Please, come inside first. They are waiting for you."
"No, wait—"
Alon waved his hand as the Elf tried to lead him inside so naturally.
"?"
The Elf wore a puzzled expression. However, from Alon's perspective, following this Elf blindly felt uncomfortable in many ways. What if their misunderstanding was cleared up after he entered the Elven Kingdom? The situation would become even more difficult then.
'I suppose I have no choice.'
He was worried about hostility, but in the end, he had to resolve the misunderstanding from the start. Sometimes, the straight path was the shortest shortcut.
"What is the name of the person you were waiting for?"
'...There are at least a hundred of them.'
To prepare for any potential situation, Alon formed a seal with his hand inside his pocket.
Alon's mana, which slightly disrupted molecular structures, permeated the surrounding space so minutely that no one would notice. As if sensing Alon's intention, Evan also tensed his body, ready to draw his sword at any moment while keeping his hands raised.
And then.
"Why, that's obvious—"
The moment the Elf's answer fell.
"—It is Marquis Palatio."
"...Eh?"
Alon unconsciously released his seal. Evan did the same. He even lowered his raised hands in a daze and looked at Alon with a face that screamed, 'Why is your name coming out of his mouth?'
"You were... waiting for me?"
"Yes. We were waiting for the Marquis."
Me? Why? How? Did he really say my name?
All sorts of questions flashed through his mind, but before he could organize his thoughts, the Elf grabbed Alon's hand again.
"Let us go. They are waiting."
"..."
With those mysterious words about "waiting," the Elf led him inside.
* * *
After boarding a carriage escorted by Elves.
"Marquis."
Evan whispered softly. For once, his face was filled with genuine surprise.
"...Speak."
"I... well, up until now, I haven't been surprised by anything—whether you went somewhere to find something or took down some enemy. None of that surprised me."
"And?"
"...But this, no matter how many times I think about it, it's just shocking."
"I'm surprised too..."
Evan wore an expression that said he didn't believe Alon's words at all. Alon felt wronged. If nothing else, he truly had no inkling about this particular situation.
'I've never even played the DLC in the first place.'
While he was feeling indignant internally, the carriage stopped.
"We have arrived."
As the carriage door opened, Alon stepped out slowly, keeping a watchful eye.
"...Oh."
An exclamation escaped his lips involuntarily.
A giant tree filled his vision. It wasn't just large; it was massive enough to easily cover an entire territory. As Alon stared blankly at the tree, a strange phrase reached his ears.
"Welcome back."
Alon didn't offer any response. Instead, he realized even more clearly: whatever it was, they were laboring under a massive misunderstanding!
They hadn't mistaken him for another Elf or a different person. They even knew him correctly as 'Marquis Palatio.' He couldn't even begin to guess what or how they were misunderstanding. After all, he hadn't even had the chance to do anything that could be misinterpreted.
"...When did you visit the Elf Village?"
"...Do you think I've ever been here?"
"Well, certainly not, but..."
As they followed the Elf's guidance into the magnificent palace situated beneath the World Tree.
"Wow...! That's the Primordial Elf—"
"Certainly—"
Whispers about Alon continued to reach his ears.
'...Primordial Elf?'
Only then did Alon find a single puzzle piece related to this incomprehensible situation. It wasn't enough to form a perfect deduction, but it was a tiny fragment that gave him a faint idea of what kind of misunderstanding had been triggered.
As he thought blankly, a realization hit him.
'No way.'
He thought of the staff used by the Primordial Elf, which was currently in his hand. Before his thoughts could go any further, he was led to the most ornate area.
"The Queen is waiting."
There, an Elf was waiting for him.
She radiated a light that was on a completely different level from the Elves he had seen so far. Welcoming Alon with an overwhelming beauty that could be called the essence of aesthetic perfection—it was the Elf Queen.
* * *
Before he could properly grasp why the Elves were misunderstanding, Alon was whisked away to an audience with the Queen. After a moment of deliberation, he slowly opened his mouth.
"...Before we begin our conversation, I have one thing to say."
"What would that be?"
The Queen responded with a gentle smile.
...In truth, what he was about to say was something Alon didn't necessarily have to bring up. No, regardless of that, Alon didn't know exactly why or how the Elves were under such a delusion.
However, if he continued the conversation with the Elf Queen like this, he didn't know when or how the worst-case scenario might unfold.
"...I'm sorry to say this, but I think you all are mistaken about something."
"In what way?"
He decided to tell the truth.
"It seems you've mistaken me for the Primordial Elf. I am not such a being."
However.
"I see."
"...?"
The response he received was incredibly calm. Alon asked with a bewildered expression.
"...Did you properly understand what I just said?"
"Yes. Did you not say that you are not the Primordial Elf?"
"I did."
But once again.
"Yes, I understand. I'll take it as you having that kind of... feeling."
"...That kind of feeling?"
"Yes, that kind of feeling."
"...???"
Faced with her still-composed response, Alon realized all too clearly that the conversation was somehow failing to align.