Chapter 192: Status (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 192: Status (3)
To be honest, Alon didn't know for sure either.
He was merely making an educated guess based on how the situation was unfolding. He didn't truly understand the mechanics of it all.
For instance, he had no idea where the five divinities he saw during his state of Contemplation had gathered from. He only suspected that the blue sphere, which emitted a strange crackling sensation, might be the divinity of 'Kalanon, the Lightning Receiver.'
As for the others, their origins remained a mystery.
Similarly, the reason Alon had chosen the Green Divinity was simple. Unlike the other spheres, it had pulsed as if pleading for him to choose it, so he had simply reached out his hand.
At the time, he couldn't have known exactly where this divinity had come from.
The moment his hand, cloaked in the Green Divinity, touched the inscriptions, sprouts began to grow. Seeing that, he vaguely realized this divinity was connected to Greinif, but even that was ultimately just a hunch.
Yes, it had certainly been nothing more than a guess—until he saw the elves' reactions.
“…….”
A group of elves led the way, escorting Alon back up from the roots. Alon watched their faces with a complicated expression.
When they had first descended into the depths, their faces had been tight with tension and irritation. But now, those traces had vanished like a mirage.
In their place was a uniform sense of pride. It was the unmistakable pride that came from serving a magnificent being—the 'Primordial Elf.'
“…….”
Alon found it incredibly burdensome. Naturally, he wasn't the Primordial Elf.
In fact, he didn't know the first thing about the Primordial Elf—not their identity, not even their name. He was completely ignorant of the subject.
...Though he thought he understood why they were under this delusion.
‘It’s likely because of the power I used.’
The Green Divinity. A power that had blanketed the space with burgeoning green life in an instant.
Now it was clear. That must have been the divinity of the 'Primordial Elf.' It was perfectly rational for the elves to mistake him for that ancient being.
Furthermore, Alon looked around.
Starting from the bottom of the roots, sprouts were gradually breathing life back into even the most withered sections. If one were to witness this miracle firsthand—
‘I would probably act just like these elves.’
The elves radiated pride from every pore, as if they were guarding a deity. Their faces shone with a mixture of overwhelming emotion, joy, and resolve.
But that was exactly why Alon felt uncomfortable. While the sequence of events was flowing naturally, it was all built on a foundation of 'misunderstanding.'
‘Just how...’
For some reason, a rumor had spread among the High Elves that Alon was the Primordial Elf. That misunderstanding had gathered faith, which in turn allowed the Green Divinity to manifest.
And today, Alon had used that divinity. He had performed a miracle. Now, countless elves believed him to be the Primordial Elf.
In short, by using the divinity gathered through a misunderstanding, he had caused them to mistake him for a true god even more.
Faced with this bizarre situation, Alon’s usually stoic face twitched ever so slightly.
“Primordial—no, Marquis. Is something making you uncomfortable?”
Rim, who had caught his expression, immediately checked in on him.
“…….”
To be honest, Alon found her the most uncomfortable of all.
Until they entered the roots, Rim had maintained a cold expression, answering even his simplest questions with bluntness. Alon had understood her attitude, considering she had been saddled with a tedious task, and her prickliness hadn't particularly bothered him.
But now...
“……No, I’m fine.”
“If anything is bothering you, please tell me at once! Primordial—no, Marquis. Thanks to you, we can finally use mana inside the roots again...!”
She addressed him with the bizarre title of 'Primordial—no, Marquis,' her face beaming with a radiant smile born of a newfound sense of duty and pride. Seeing this sudden transformation...
“…….”
After a long silence, Alon could only nod somewhat awkwardly.
“I... see.”
* * *
“Marquis.”
“Speak.”
“What am I supposed to do if you come back as an actual god?”
“……It’s not like I wanted this.”
“Can someone become a god even if they don't want to?”
Well—
“Apparently so.”
It happened.
“So you become a god even without wanting to...”
“……But why are you bringing this up all of a sudden?”
Two hours had passed since they returned from the roots. While Alon was resting after being told the Queen was in a meeting, Evan—who had been idling all day since he hadn't followed them to the roots—brought news from outside.
“It’s absolute chaos out there right now.”
“?”
“Everyone’s talking about how the Marquis was the ‘real Primordial Elf’ all along.”
“……Wasn't that rumor already going around?”
“No, I mean, before it was just a ‘maybe’ kind of rumor, but now everyone’s buzzing about it as if it’s a proven fact.”
“Don't elves believe rumors a bit too easily?”
“I heard someone named Black Leaf... was it? Someone has been going around talking about it quite passionately.”
“Ah……”
As Alon let out a sigh, Evan watched him quietly before speaking up.
“Marquis.”
“What?”
“I’m just asking just in case, but do you actually feel like you’re the Primordial Elf or something?”
“What do you mean, ‘feel like’?”
“You know, like, did you reincarnate or possess this body or something like that—”
Alon hesitated at Evan’s question. He could have just said no, but he felt a strange reluctance to lie, so he struggled before answering.
“At the very least, I don't think I’ve ever been the Primordial Elf.”
“Well—I suppose so.”
Evan trailed off. Alon let out a long breath and fell into thought.
Aside from the rumors, there were many things he needed to focus on.
‘The existence in the mirror, the fruit I received from the old tree, the Mother of Greed.’
He had learned how to use divinity, but three new mysteries had been presented to him.
‘I wonder if the Queen knows anything about these?’
Just as Alon was agonizing over his thoughts, there was a knock.
“Primordial—no, Marquis. The Queen has requested an audience.”
Hearing that strange title again, Alon stood up, still unable to shake off the awkwardness.
“……I’m coming.”
* * *
“Your Majesty, do you think this makes any sense?! You know how dangerous it is to send someone who hasn't even been properly verified into the roots like this!”
“Lord Paloel, I believe we finished this discussion a long time ago.”
“I am talking about what comes after! Even if Lady Philde officially recognized him, that is ultimately just a guess!”
Voices drifted out as Alon approached the audience chamber.
‘……They’re talking about me.’
Before Alon could even feel embarrassed by the old man’s heated voice, Rim stepped forward without hesitation, as if she didn't care at all, and announced his arrival.
“Your Majesty, Marquis Palatio has arrived.”
After a brief silence, the doors opened and an elderly elf walked out. With long white hair reaching down to his waist and an aura of pure fury, he glanced at the expressionless Rim before turning his gaze toward Alon.
“…….”
“…….”
They exchanged looks for a moment. A gaze filled with blatant hostility poured over Alon, but only for a second.
“……Tsk.”
The elf clicked his tongue, turned his head, and brushed past Alon.
“I’m sorry. The meeting ran quite late. ……One person simply wouldn't let it go even after it was over.”
The Queen’s voice drifted from inside. Alon shook his head.
“It’s fine. I haven't been waiting long.”
“So, how was it inside? I haven't heard the details yet since the meeting just ended. If you don't mind, could you tell me exactly what happened at the roots?”
At Magrina’s request, Alon went silent for a moment before nodding. He had things to ask her as well.
* * *
Paloel, the Head of the Elder Council.
As a member of the council—which consisted of ten members and held power second only to the Queen—he was not pleased with the current situation. Specifically, he hated the rumor that Marquis Palatio was the Primordial Elf.
‘A mere human...’
Paloel scowled. A mere human daring to be the Primordial Elf? Even if the words came from the Queen and that brilliant mage Philde, it was unpleasant.
……No, in truth.
‘Damn it!’
The appearance of the Primordial Elf was an obstacle. It meant the power structure within the elves could shift to something like the Lizardman tribes. It meant his own power could be affected.
Thus, upon returning to the Elder Council office within the royal castle, Paloel was in no mood for distractions.
“Lord Paloel! Just a moment—”
“Enough! I have somewhere to be immediately, so we shall speak later.”
“It—it’s about the rumors coming from the roots—”
“I’ll hear it later.”
He brushed off the elf who had rushed up to report and headed straight somewhere. His destination was the office of Pagade, where Rim would be.
Paloel knew that Rim had not been fond of the current situation either. Of course, her dissatisfaction didn't stem from a fear of losing power like his did; it was closer to pure annoyance. But that didn't matter.
As long as their goals aligned, it was fine. They needed to push out this 'Primordial Elf' who had appeared out of nowhere, whose authenticity couldn't even be verified. Besides, hadn't Rim gone down to the roots with him? She might have found a pretext to get rid of the man.
With those expectations, he stepped into the office.
“……Lord Paloel?”
“Rim.”
He faced Rim. Along with her confusion—he saw an expression tinged with hostility.
‘……Hostility?’
Paloel was puzzled. They weren't close enough to chat frequently, but they weren't on terms that warranted hostility either. In fact, just a few days ago, hadn't the two of them shared their negative views on the Primordial Elf?
Swallowing his confusion, Paloel started with a greeting.
“Did the trip to the roots go well?”
“Yes.”
“I see. The reason I’ve come is that I have something to ask you.”
When Rim didn't offer much of a response, Paloel began as if he had been waiting for this moment.
“As you might have guessed, I want to ask about that fellow who doesn't even know if he’s real or fake, yet has the audacity to go around calling himself the Primordial Elf despite being a mere human.”
Of course, Paloel knew that the man had never called himself the 'Primordial Elf.' He also knew that Philde was the source and the one who had spread the rumor. But what mattered now was gaining Rim’s agreement.
“So, what I’m saying is—”
He opened with more aggressive language to provoke a reaction—but in that instant.
“Stop.”
“……What?”
“ I told you to stop.”
She suddenly dropped the formal honorifics.
“How dare you—”
Her expressionless face distorted like a fiend’s.
“Are you insulting the Primordial Elf in front of me?”
A killing intent, exploding outward like a physical force, dominated the room.
“…….”
Paloel stopped breathing.