Zigmund's Burning Fury
Knight Commander Zigmund of the captured princess was a man loyal to the Tarkar royal family above all others. At the same time, he was a doting great-uncle who truly cherished his late older sister and the niece she had left behind.
The moment the king collapsed, Zigmund had thrown himself into handling the paralyzed royal duties to keep the current royal house from crumbling. He also did everything in his power to ensure the blame for the incident wouldn't fall on his young niece.
And yet, after he'd finally managed to get things under control...
"Th-the princess, deeply regretting that His Majesty the King collapsed during tea time with her, intends to fulfill her responsibility and duty accor—"
"Shut your rotten mouths, you fossils!"
While he was running himself ragged, that witch Kristin and her cronies had sweet-talked Veronica into joining the delegation and shipping the poor child off to the elf village.
That alone was enough to make his blood boil.
"...and thus, to prevent a potential war with the elves caused by the guards—who failed to wear their identification tags proving their status—from being killed, we respect their noble wi—"
To top it off, the guards who had been with her were practically wiped out, and Princess Veronica herself was listed as missing.
Thud!
"What nonsense is this?! Of course we should sweep those filthy elf bastards away!"
"Th-the Elder Council, representing all elves, has sworn before the World Tree that they absolutely did not kill the princess—"
"Are you seriously believing that crap?!"
Of course, this was an insult to the kingdom—grounds enough to declare war right then and there without a second thought.
"B-but the fallen guards' wish for peace—"
"So we're just supposed to let this slide when the kingdom's sole rightful heir has vanished?"
"W-well... we can use this incident to gain leverage in future negotiations with the elves..."
Yet despite this blatant humiliation, the kingdom's nobles showed little fire in their response. Instead, they seemed eager to sweep the whole mess under the rug.
Shing!
"Eek?!"
"C-calmdown, Your Excellency!"
"Let go! I need to lop off these traitors' heads right now!"
Unable to contain his rage any longer, Zigmund drew his sword. The watching knights rushed to restrain him before things escalated further, turning the office into a chaotic mess.
.
Knock knock.
"May I come in—?"
A sly, smirking voice. Then, without waiting for permission, a red-haired man sauntered into the office as if he owned the place. Through his perpetually squinting eyes—almost like they were sewn shut—flashed pupils of blue, reminiscent of the royal bloodline.
Zigmund scowled deeply at the man, who bowed with exaggerated politeness.
Bern Garcia. The second illegitimate son born between the king and his concubine Kristin.
"...What do you want?"
"Does a niece need a reason to visit her great-uncle?"
"I have only one niece."
"And whether that last niece is even ali—"
Whoosh! Thunk!
"...or dead, we don't know."
A few strands of his own hair sliced off and embedded in the wall beside him—yet Bern didn't so much as blink. He finished his sentence with a long, twisted grin stretching across his face.
"Well, no need to get so worked up this time. I've come with good news for you, Great-Uncle."
"...Good news?"
Zigmund and Bern's relationship was at rock bottom. Whatever "good news" Bern brought was unlikely to be good for Zigmund, so he narrowed his eyes warily.
"Mother's heartbroken over my little sister's disappearance—she can't even sleep."
"...?"
"So she asked me to please find Veronica."
Whatever scheme they were cooking up this time, he had no idea.
"But searching the vast Great Forest all by myself would be too much, even for me."
"......"
"So, Great-Uncle, I'd appreciate your help in finding my little sister."
Surprisingly, this time...
"...Very well."
...Bern's proposal wasn't half bad for Zigmund.
The expedition had actually been prepared ever since Zigmund first heard that Veronica had left with the delegation.
Once the knights' deployment was approved, assembling a large-scale search party centered on the royal guard took less than half a day.
The search party's composition: twenty knights who could wield aura, and five hundred regular soldiers. Considering it was led by the kingdom's Sword Saint, the Guard Captain himself...
...it was a force substantial enough to wage a territorial war outright.
In essence, it was a declaration that anyone blocking the search party's path would be crushed—a clear show of the kingdom's iron will.
....
"—Though in reality, it's all just for show."
"I know."
True to that resolve, the search party had cut meals and sleep to cover a week's journey in just three days.
They surrounded the elf village like an occupying army and set up their command post right in the central office at the village heart.
Of course, if they actually clashed with the elves in the Great Forest, the search party would suffer massive losses too. So this was mostly a demonstration: We're this pissed.
Even the usually prideful elves grasped the gravity of the situation and didn't protest the kingdom's overreach too loudly.
A few forest rangers grumbled that the search party's actions were an excessive overstep against elves, but...
"So, how'd it go when you actually fought?"
"What."
"That silver-haired forest ranger who charged at us alone on the way here—the one with the wolves."
Thud.
"What a pointless question."
"Yeah, figured as much."
Zigmund briefly recalled the bold silver-haired elf who had dared block his path.
...No wonder Drake got utterly crushed by her a few years back.
Elves, with lifespans twice that of humans, often had spirits twice as fragile. She was a rare one with real grit.
But no matter how elite a forest ranger captain she was...
...winning head-on against the Sword Saint in full metal plate was impossible.
Of course, it had been a real battle, not a formal duel. Without his armor, the outcome might've been different.
...But even entertaining that 'what if' is pointless.
Even if the ranger captain exploited the forest terrain or ambushed him while unarmored and took him down...
...twenty knights and five hundred trained soldiers remained. Losing their princess and their captain would flip their eyes red with rage. They'd fight to the death to eradicate the elves.
And even if the elves wiped them out, the kingdom's main army waited next.
Unless they want to go back to slash-and-burn nomad life, they won't strike first.
An individual can never beat a group. It was the iron law of nature.
"—Word is, beyond picking that unauthorized duel, she had a pile of other infractions, so they shipped her off to confinement."
"Don't care."
Trivial elf drama meant nothing compared to the life or death of the royal family's last true heir.
Zigmund coldly cut off Bern and intently studied the map spread across the table.
Near the western edge of the elves' Sanctuary.
"...Right, her trail went cold here?"
"Yes."
"What have we ascertained so far?"
The elf nodded tensely at Zigmund's question and continued.
"Our forest rangers scouted first and found a monster nest in the area."
"Monsters?"
"Yes, likely goblins—we suspect based on—"
Goblins: small monsters with green skin. If Veronica had been captured by goblins...
"Huh? Looks like little sis might still be alive after all."
"...Shut up."
"Man, you won't let me finish a sentence."
Zigmund scowled. As Bern said, if she'd been taken by goblins and not much time had passed, her survival odds were good.
But...
...In the worst case, we'll have to consider memory erasure via magic.
She might've endured something so horrific that death would've been kinder.
Even now, lust-crazed monsters could be doing unspeakable things to the young Veronica.
"...We head there immediately."
"You should rest a few hours to shake off the fatigue—"
No time for rest.
Thud.
"I'm fine."
"...We'll provide a forest ranger to guide you."
Zigmund slammed the round table, rose, and gripped the scabbard of his sword propped nearby. The elf, cowed by his aura, fled the office like a rabbit. Zigmund glared daggers at his retreating back.
Veins bulged on the back of his hand.
What defines a village? There's no legal or official unified standard for what constitutes one.
"Lady Diana?"
"......"
But...
"No matter how you look at it, this doesn't seem like an elf village... What do you think?"
"Vi, village—"
"Ah, if the standards for fairy and human villages differ, feel free to say so."
"No... don't, know."
For starters, no one would call a single shabby little shed hidden among dense trees a village.
Why? It was supposed to be 50 percent success.
...No way they counted those tiny green-eared pests as a real guide success? So this counts as failing to guide to the village?
Nothing else explains it.
"Well, anyway, we found a building. ...So, what now?"
"Open. Check inside, end—no, wait...!"
Still, it wasn't hopeless yet.
A lone shed in this forest screamed suspicious. And this one had no proper windows except a tiny door on the front.
...Wait, there's a vent hole up on the roof.
A small window just a bit bigger than my height, barred like a prison cell.
Tiny space even smaller than the thatched hut in my Fairy Realm, no nearby village in sight. Purpose unknown.
Suspicious as hell.
Maybe the elves actually live in an underground bunker, and this shed hides the secret entrance.
"...Diana, check higher up."
"Yes, I'll wait here."
Yeah, totally plausible. Decision made.
Whirr—
I approached the shed wall, gradually gaining altitude.
Passing moss clinging to the wall and tiny bug corpses.
Finally reaching the building's only window.
Peering cautiously inside.
And then.
"?"
"...Worm?"
I locked eyes with a silver-haired elf staring blankly at the sky.