Rock Island (5)
Especially surprising was the fact that the majority pressuring Arwen were male warriors.
In the dark elf world—a matriarchal society where the Grand Matron controlled everything in the family—men were little more than the bottom rung.
Yet here they were, talking back to the heir.
Owen had never imagined witnessing such a scene.
"Is the sun rising in the west tomorrow or what...?"
Even the female warriors had dropped to one knee on the sidelines.
They weren't actively pressuring Arwen, but they clearly accepted the mood.
Arwen, however, refused to bend.
She vented her fury in a shrill voice.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get up right now! He's not some Heroicus!"
Her voice echoed thunderously across the beach, but the dark elves made no reply.
"You traitors!"
Arwen trembled violently, utterly flustered.
This was a first for her.
As the family's absolute heir, her position was guaranteed.
Only the Grand Matron could discipline her, so she'd never faced outright defiance.
Yet now, not just one or two, but everyone was defying her will.
"Argh! You...!"
Arwen was so flustered she could barely speak.
Meanwhile, Owen and the other humans watching could only wonder what the fuss over this Heroicus was about.
Then one dark elf rose from his spot.
It was Orkeus, the steward of the Shadow Bat Family.
A man who'd risen to an unusually high position, he'd been assigned to this expedition by the worried Grand Matron.
Until now, he'd proven his exceptional abilities, supporting Arwen both materially and spiritually.
"Steward! You speak up."
Arwen lit up, assuming he'd take her side.
But her face twisted at his next words.
"In my opinion, he is a Heroicus, Lady Arwen."
"What? Even you? You, who calls yourself the family's loyal servant!"
Despite Arwen's uncontainable rage, Orkeus remained calm.
"Precisely because I am loyal, I say this. What, pray tell, is a Heroicus?"
"Ha! Now you're going to lecture me?"
"How dare I? But this is our race's ancient tradition and law. I only wish to remind you, Lady Arwen. Even the Grand Matron wouldn't reprimand me for it."
At the mention of the Grand Matron, Arwen flinched.
She was the only one who could rein in her wild filly of a daughter.
Arwen ground her teeth.
"Orkeus! Using my mother as an excuse."
Only then did Arwen realize Orkeus wasn't just an aide.
He was surely a watcher too.
Even as the designated heir, that could change on the Grand Matron's whim.
Her face drained to ashen as she grasped that Orkeus was scoring her performance on this expedition.
"If you truly believe that, then I, Orkeus, have no way to hide my grief."
"Urk..."
Arwen realized her mistake.
I got too carried away with the mission.
The Grand Matron's trust in Steward Orkeus was beyond imagination.
Arwen even suspected he was one of her mother's lovers.
Pushing back hard here would be foolish.
But backing down wounded her pride.
She had no way to salvage her shame-flushed face.
Her inexperience showed; her mouth kept twitching.
The seasoned Orkeus couldn't miss it.
Dignified heir or not, she was little more than a daughter in years.
He spoke soothingly.
"A Heroicus holds a special place among dark elves. It means 'King of Warriors' and 'Hero of the Sea'—a title that transcends rank."
"...I know that."
"Then how were past Heroicus born?"
"By slaying or befriending Kuaram Kam."
"Correct. You know well."
For dark elves whose domain was the North Sea, the ultimate terror was the turtle dragon Kuaram Kam.
Thus, any warrior from the tribe who slew or earned recognition from Kuaram Kam ascended to that special position.
They called it Heroicus, but the last one had emerged over 200 years ago.
It had become the stuff of legends.
So when Owen pacified the turtle dragon, it was only natural the dark elves stirred.
The problem was that he was human.
Owen had taken their murmurs at face value, but in truth, the dark elves had plunged into fierce debate over the past few days.
Could a human become Heroicus? The arguments raged.
Arwen pointed it out.
"No human has ever become Heroicus. What are you getting at, Steward?"
"I'm well aware. But look at this figurehead. You know what it is."
The humans had just wondered what the turtle dragon was carrying in its mouth.
To Owen's eyes, it looked odd—glowing brilliantly despite seeming to come from underwater.
Not a barnacle or bit of seaweed in sight.
Still, even he didn't know its true nature.
But the dark elves recognized it instantly.
It was the figurehead from the lost Queen's flagship.
That was what Orkeus referenced.
"Our race lost the Queen's flagship generations ago. We never knew where it sank. But look—today we've found its figurehead. What greater fortune could there be?"
As Arwen fell silent, Orkeus addressed the dark elf kin.
"You all know. The heart of the sunken flagship was its figurehead. Legend says ships bearing it were safe from Kuaram Kam's attacks."
Owen, fluent in dark elven tongue, listened with interest.
So that's why every Queen's flagship bore that figurehead.
The other humans just blinked in confusion.
"But many here remember: after losing it, the Queen's flagship vanished. And without that guarantee of safety, no Queen since has ventured onto the North Sea."
Without rebellion or emergency, the current Queen wouldn't have set sail either.
And on top of that circumstance, one tale had been passed down.
The lost figurehead would be reclaimed by a hero.
It wasn't even a proper prophecy—just hopeful words from someone, origin unknown.
Yet the dark elves clung to that sliver of hope.
They had to believe a hero would one day erase the humiliation of losing the Queen's figurehead.
Otherwise, the shame would eat them alive.
"So I ask you all: Parte Leire has earned Kuaram Kam's recognition and solved our ancient plight. Does he have the qualifications for Heroicus? Or is it impossible because he's human?"
The crowd murmured, but the conclusion was clear.
They'd decided the moment they saw the lost figurehead.
As long-b-lived dark elves, many had seen it in person long ago.
They knew it was real on sight.
"Before you answer, know this: nowhere in dark elf history were the conditions for Heroicus ever restricted!"
This was aimed squarely at Arwen's earlier words.
No human had become one, true.
But there were no restrictions on the conditions either.
Orkeus hammered that home.
"Heroicus cares not for man or woman, old or young. Even other races qualify—and I, Orkeus, truly believe it!"
Orkeus, who held great fondness for Owen, spoke with utter sincerity.
His speech brimmed with passion to stir hearts.
Enthusiastic cheers erupted.
"Heroicus! Heroicus!"
They chanted from all sides.
Even the female warriors who'd held back joined in fervently.
Women had to rise high in the family.
They couldn't ignore the heir—except now, following their consciences.
"Heroicus!"
"Heroicus!"
The crowd's cries rang dizzyingly in Arwen's head.
Her legs wobbled.
Heroicus outranked a family heir.
No—even the Queen showed respect to one.
Conquering or befriending Kuaram Kam held that weight in dark elf society.
If the Queen must, so too must Arwen.
I have to kneel? To a human man?
Rage welled, tears pricking her eyes.
She'd lived her life in the pride of being chosen.
Yet bow to a man—to a barbarian human, no less?
She wanted to refuse utterly, but everyone now recognized him as Heroicus.
She couldn't stop it.
Finally, amid profound humiliation, she began to drop to one knee.
It was tradition.
Defy it, and she'd lose her position.
Orkeus would report disappointingly to the Grand Matron; the family warriors would rebel.
"Ah..."
Arwen felt contempt for tradition even as she realized something.
Her own power stemmed from it too.
So she had no choice but to uphold it.
"Heroicu—"
As Arwen's lips parted and her knee neared the sand...
A hand caught her, stopping her.
She looked up. It was Owen.
"Lady Arwen. No need for this."
His unexpected action widened her eyes.
Just standing by would let everything flow in his favor.
On this expedition, the family warriors would follow Heroicus over her.
But why stop it?
To Arwen—who'd brutally crushed rival sisters for the heir's seat—it made no sense.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm no Heroicus. Stand up."
"Hmph! Pitiful pity, or false humility?"
Her pride flared at the thought of pity.
Owen wasn't fazed.
He'd dealt with far worse facing the Queen in his past life.
Honestly, the Queen was way pricklier than this girl.
He knew exactly how to handle it.
Give her a face-saving excuse.
He leaned close, gripping her arm, and whispered.
"Think what you want, you brat."
"What? What did you say?"
"Use that head—if you have one—and grab my hand when I offer it."
"What're you talking about?"
"Stay like this, and the dark elves follow me. But I'm a dragon knight, not some grand admiral. You'll still lead the fleet."
"......"
Owen's motive was pragmatic.
Being recognized as Heroicus and commanding dark elves sounded great.
But a resentful Arwen would slack off.
She might hole up in her cabin—not unlikely.
Needing to sail the North Sea without a capable commander? Foolish.
And crucially, she'd harbor grudges going forward.
No need for that.
Instead of helping her now, he aimed for future cooperation.
"I'll save you. Spare you kneeling to a human man. In return, fully cooperate on this expedition."
"Become your subordinate?"
"A give-and-take partnership. A deal. Choose."
Owen gripped her arm tighter, face inches away.
Arwen shook off his hand with a scoff.
"Idiot! You crush foes when you can. Still green, huh?"
Her words were sharp, but her attitude shifted.
Her deathly pallor returned to normal.
She'd been shaking earlier; now she had some composure.
Owen knew she'd accept the deal.
"Good. You've decided. I'll decline Heroicus or whatever, so you keep—"
"No."
But Arwen cut him off, shaking her head. Then she made an unexpected proposal.
"Become Heroicus, Owen Leire."
"What? That'd shake your position—"
"There's a way. I can recognize you as Heroicus without losing mine."
"What's that?"
Owen was open if such a path existed.
Honor wasn't bad.
He just refused because it'd disrupt the expedition.
But rising high and keeping peace with Arwen? Ideal.
Yet Arwen's next words left him stunned.
"Simple. Become the Heroicus's fiancée. As the hero's betrothed, I keep my dignity. Deal?"
"No, that's..."
Owen hesitated, then refused.
"You're not my type."