Whispers of Elharon
“I'm sorry. The mission was a failure.”
Borlin knelt on one knee, head bowed low.
Before her sat an elven woman on a massive wooden chair.
The elf woman's name was Serion Olia.
She was a rare pure-blood elf.
Her skin was snow-white, her hair and eyebrows platinum blonde, making her look like a fairy from afar.
She appeared to be in her late thirties or early forties at first glance, but in truth, she was over three hundred years old.
When her homeland Elharon fell, she had crossed over to Earth.
Dreaming of a new paradise, she came to Earth—only to be greeted by a brutal reality.
The terraforming failure had turned the planet into a desertified wasteland, the worst possible environment for living beings.
Many of her kin couldn't endure the harsh conditions and perished.
The survivors banded together, migrating somewhere to build their own city.
That place was Elharon.
Serion could have entered Elharon as well. But she chose not to.
It was because of the stragglers.
To protect them, Serion willingly remained in the human world and became the ruler of the North District.
The massive wooden chair she sat on was made from a fragment of the World Tree brought from Kurayan.
This wooden throne elevated her presence, granting her the dignity of a true sovereign.
That was one reason she had become the queen of the heteromorphs left behind in Neo Seoul.
Serion spoke.
“He definitely said Elharon, correct?”
“Yes.”
“A human said that?”
“Yes.”
“How could a human know of Elharon…?”
“Could you… tell me what Elharon is?”
“That's…”
Serion hesitated at Borlin's cautious question.
In the entire North District, only two people knew of Elharon's existence.
One was herself, and the other was Ilai, the vice-leader of the North District.
Even the two of them kept it as an absolute secret.
They were heteromorphs stranded in the human world of Neo Seoul.
Elharon, the city of heteromorphs who had come from Kurayan, could be a beacon of hope for Neo Seoul's heteromorphs. But if its location were exposed to humans, it could spell disaster. That was why they guarded the secret so fiercely.
Serion and Ilai had waited for Elharon to grow strong enough to reach out to them someday. But no matter how long they waited, Elharon never made contact. Weary of the endless wait, she had let go of that hope.
Decades had passed since then, and now, unbelievably, the name Elharon had slipped from a human's lips.
“I'm sorry. I can't tell you yet.”
“I see…”
“But I promise, when the time comes that I can share it, you'll be the first to know, Borlin.”
“Understood.”
Borlin forced down her disappointment and replied.
Serion saw right through Borlin's feelings but pretended not to notice.
“Oh, right! What was that man's name?”
“Zeon.”
“Zeon from the slums. Estimated minimum rank of B-rank, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And there's a pure-blood elf by his side?”
“Yes!”
“Do you know the elf's name by any chance?”
“Well…”
Borlin stammered.
“You don't know the name, even though you're both elves?”
“For some reason, she refused to reveal it to me.”
“I see.”
Deep furrows formed between Serion's brows.
Elves were beings of communion.
Even toward enemies, they had no qualms about sharing their names—as long as they were fellow elves.
It was exceedingly rare for a pure-blood elf to refuse to reveal their true name.
A name was the most certain proof of their roots, their very identity.
Refusing to share it meant rejecting communion with other elves.
“A pure elf refusing to commune?”
It made no sense to Serion's common understanding.
Or perhaps she's not a pure elf? But then Borlin wouldn't have mistaken her. Unless…?
A thought flashed through Serion's mind in that instant.
Borlin, noticing the change in her expression, asked carefully.
“Is something wrong? Did I miss something odd?”
“No. Good work, Borlin. Go rest now.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes.”
Borlin bowed and withdrew.
Left alone, Serion muttered to herself.
“What if she's a High Elf…?”
Whoosh!
The wall blocking the houses crumbled like a sandcastle.
“Yah!”
As Briel spread her arms wide, a strong gust swept up the remnants of the sand-transformed wall and blew them out the window.
“Impressive.”
“Pfft, this is nothing for a body like mine.”
Briel wiped her nose with her finger and grinned at Levin's praise.
The moment Zeon said they needed to expand the house, Levin had barged into the neighboring place to negotiate.
Luckily, Zeon had plenty of money, and the owner was planning to move anyway, so the deal closed in an instant.
The owner packed up and left for their new place that very evening, and Briel demolished the empty house's walls.
Just like that, Zeon's home doubled in size.
Suddenly, the magistone generator hummed.
The black gem acting as its core—the Watching Eye—had detected the expansion of its territory.
Red lines shot out from the Watching Eye like a net.
They spread to cover the entire expanded area before vanishing without a trace.
Seeing this, Levin blinked in astonishment.
“What the hell is that?”
“The Watching Eye? I never thought I'd see one for real.”
“What's it do?”
“I've only heard about it from the grown-ups, so I'm not totally sure, but it's a barrier used in royal vaults and treasuries. Supposedly ignores most physical or magic attacks. Who'd have thought something like this was hidden in a mana generator? Where the hell did Zeon even get it?”
“That rare, huh?”
“None of the elves I know have one.”
“Super rare, then.”
“Yeah!”
Briel glared at the mana generator.
More precisely, at the Watching Eye embedded inside it.
A burning desire to study it welled up in her chest.
Levin shook his head at the sight.
He didn't need eyes to know Briel would be obsessed with the Watching Eye for a while.
“Anyway, bigger house is a win.”
Zeon's home was now twice as large.
Briel had reinforced the broken walls and pillars with magic, so there was no risk of collapse.
Briel immediately hauled her stuff over to what used to be the neighbor's space and claimed the biggest room.
“This is my lab. Don't come in.”
“Do whatever. A small room's fine for me.”
Levin chuckled.
Just then, Zeon emerged, pulling on his robe.
“Where you headed?”
“Butcher shop. Come with.”
“Me too?”
“Yeah.”
“Got it.”
Levin followed without complaint.
“Levin!”
“Where you been? Haven't seen you around.”
As soon as they hit the street, kids Levin's age spotted him and called out.
Levin bumped fists with them in greeting.
“You good?”
“Had some stuff to handle. Staying at my bro's place from now on.”
Zeon smirked watching Levin.
Popular guy.
Some people drew eyes wherever they went and naturally became leaders.
Levin seemed like one of them.
Soon, they reached the street with the butcher shop.
It was bustling with quite a crowd.
It had always done well, but lately, it was even busier.
More customers, more goods for sale.
“Shop owners like that must rake it in with a pitchfork.”
Jealous?”
“Hell yeah!”
Levin answered without hesitation.
No one in the slums escaped poverty.
It was a place where you clutched your starving belly day in, day out.
A hell with no dreams or hope.
That was the slums to Levin.
His family had been the one thing keeping him going—until the murderer took them all.
If they'd lived inside Neo Seoul instead of the slums, maybe it never would've happened.
“Once I finish my revenge, I'll make bank. Then I'll live inside Neo Seoul.”
“Not a bad plan.”
“What about you?”
“Hm?”
“You could live inside Neo Seoul anytime if you wanted. So why stay in the slums?”
“Slums are way more comfortable than Neo Seoul.”
“Really?”
“Everyone's got their own comfort zone. Follow what feels right to you.”
“Yeah!”
Chatting like that, they arrived at the butcher shop.
Inside, a burly man was butchering some massive hunk of unnamed meat.
Will, the shop owner.
Will spotted Zeon and bowed in greeting.
“Welcome.”
“Where's old man Clexy?”
“Off to the Dokkaebi Market on business.”
“No wonder I didn't see him.”
“Need anything?”
“Need a car.”
“Only got a small buggy right now.”
“That'll do.”
“I'll prep it right away.”
Will didn't ask why and agreed immediately.
Levin, however, did.
“Why a car?”
“Heading to the desert.”
“Why the desert?”
“Got something to find.”
“What is it?”
“You'll find out soon enough without prying.”
“Huh?”
Zeon flashed a meaningful smile at the tilting Levin.
Levin felt a strange chill.
Moments later, the buggy was ready.
No armor, just a skeletal frame—like a skeleton on wheels.
At least it had a roof to block the sun.
Zeon slid into the driver's seat and said to Levin,
“Let's go!”
“Yeah!”
The buggy carrying the two sped out of the slums into the desert.
“Whoa!”
Levin let out a gasp.
He'd seen the desert plenty from the slums, but this was his first time out in it.
Excitement and fear hit him at once.
He also wondered where Zeon was taking him.
Zeon drove dozens of kilometers from Neo Seoul.
Once the city vanished from sight, he closed his eyes and heightened his senses.
His awareness stretched endlessly through the sand.
A moment later, he opened his eyes.
“Found it.”
“Found what?”
Zeon answered by flooring it.
They drove a long way to a small sandstone outcrop hardened from the dunes.
A crevice in the sandstone could barely fit one person.
Zeon said to Levin,
“Go in.”
“Huh?”
The moment Levin's eyes widened at the unexpected order, Zeon kicked him.
Thud!
“Gahk!”
Levin tumbled into the crevice with a scream.
Watching him vanish into the darkness in an instant, Zeon muttered,
“If you don't wanna die, give it everything you've got.”