Land of the Elves
Land of the Elves
When Richard moved to step forward, Angie tapped the back of his hand with her knuckles to stop him. He ground his teeth and glared at Gerald.
Maria hung her head in shame. Gerald merely raised an eyebrow, as if mildly impressed by Richard's restraint.
Aslan used the opening to sweep his gaze across the hall.
Dozens of knights were steadily drawing closer to their liege.
The soldiers who had been preparing the meal fell in behind their own knight-commanders, ready to protect a sergeant and the lord of their lord.
There were a few mages among them, hands already poised to form seals, ready to cast a spell at any moment.
Hundreds of eyes on him. But the attention felt different from the kind at Nechagni.
Aslan caught Tiyamal's wink—a silent signal that he was ready to move on command—and shook his head before dropping to one knee.
Before Gerald could fully register his surprise, Aslan spoke.
"Ashlan Flame-tongue returns, having carried out Your Highness Gerald's command."
Gerald's eyebrow arched again.
"We gave no command to desert."
The words clearly referenced Fay's disappearance.
Aslan didn't bother answering a provocation backed by zero evidence.
"I don't know what you mean."
Feigned ignorance. Gerald stared down at him for a long moment, then seemed to decide against pressing the issue.
He simply asked:
"Then how well, how precisely, did you carry out what was commanded?"
Instead of answering, Aslan reached into his coat. His hand emerged slowly, and the mages who had been watching him tensely with half-formed seals relaxed when they saw what he held: something resembling a seed.
The sudden appearance of a seed. King Gerald's expression remained unimpressed.
"What is that?"
"A crystal formed from the condensed life force of Nature and Creation. A treasure unique in this world, which grants eternal youth and unending vitality to whoever consumes it."
Aslan answered with perfect composure, no trace of intimidation in his voice.
Gerald turned his head without a word.
But the court mage standing in the direction he turned bowed his head and spoke.
"If it truly holds the authority of Nature and Creation, such effects would not be surprising."
"Meaning it would be so only if his claim is true."
The king undercut his own retainer's words as he looked down at Aslan. He didn't appear to be a man nearing the end of his natural lifespan.
"What happens if one consumes only a portion? Does the effect still manifest?"
The intent behind the question was transparent. Aslan rose to his feet and shrugged.
"What do you think would happen?"
His reply carried a different texture from when he had been kneeling moments before.
Gerald smiled thinly at the sudden shift in attitude.
"Let me guess. You'll claim nothing happens, or that there are side effects."
"No. I don't know either. It's a one-of-a-kind treasure. How would I know?"
At the open displeasure in Aslan's voice, King Gerald nodded, a faint smile still on his lips.
"A fair point."
The king raised one hand. The knights behind him tightened their grips on their weapons.
"Then I refuse it."
At those words, the knights advanced. The rhythmic clank of plate armor rang out with every step. Aslan's eyes shifted.
"If that's truly how you intend to play this... then I have no choice. My task remains unfinished, and I can't afford to die just yet...."
His companions gripped their weapons and readied for battle. Aslan slipped between them and raised the seed toward his mouth.
I'll simply have to eat it myself. He announced as much and made to swallow it. In that brief moment, King Gerald measured the fighting spirit of Aslan's company.
The group held their combat stances, but for an instant they shot bewildered glances at Aslan.
The look said: You went through all that trouble to get it, and now you're going to eat it here and bring disaster down on us?
Gerald watched Aslan prepare to consume the seed without hesitation and let out a small, thoughtful sound.
The king's hand rose a second time. The knights halted, and Aslan stopped just before the seed passed his lips.
Aslan's teal eyes met Gerald's green ones in the space between them. Gerald gave the court mage a slight jerk of his chin.
"A moment."
The mage approached with that single word. Aslan extended the seed without hesitation, and the mage accepted it and began to chant.
Murmured magical symbols. Metrical cadences. A faint light traced fine patterns across the seed beneath the incantation. After a long silence, the mage broke out in a cold sweat.
"...It is exactly as the Master of Combat said. Within this lies an immense divinity, unmistakably that of Nature and Creation."
Divinity cannot be fabricated. At least, that was what everyone believed. And perhaps because of that, greed flickered immediately in King Gerald's eyes.
Maria's face grew troubled.
Her reaction was only natural. If Gerald truly obtained eternal youth and life, Maria would be pushed entirely out of the power structure.
She sent Aslan a glance edged with quiet fury. Aslan affected an awkward expression and turned his head away.
The gesture only deepened Gerald's certainty.
Considering that Maria had been under constant surveillance since Aslan's party departed, her current attitude couldn't possibly be an act.
And so Gerald stepped squarely into the trap Aslan had carefully laid.
He gestured to the court mage, received the seed, and without a flicker of hesitation tipped it into his mouth.
A normal person would have paused. Gerald didn't.
His willingness to shoulder risk boldly was the secret to his long string of successes.
That boldness had never once disappointed the king.
Until now.
A short time passed after King Gerald swallowed the seed. In the silence, he suddenly clutched at the back of his neck.
"Ghk...."
A pained groan escaped him. The royal body crumpled, hands clamped around his throat. The knights reacted instantly.
"Mage! Heal His Highness!"
"Kill them!"
Like a high-performance vehicle hitting top speed in one burst, the knights's fury peaked in an instant.
Swords cleared their scabbards. Soldiers leveled spears. Archers drew and aimed amid the shouting.
As a cluster of knights rushed the party, Aslan murmured without hesitation.
"Domination."
He needed to buy time. He deployed the Wings of Stymphalos at maximum output—only half remained after earlier use.
Hundreds of feathers rose on telekinetic force, drifting freely. The knights's charge stuttered to a halt.
In the chaos, Aslan launched several feathers at a knight who was about to cut Maria down.
The knight was battered to the floor by the flying plumage, and Maria retreated a step.
More knights surged forward, their weapons swinging with the precision of decades of training. Swords, spears, and maces glanced off the barrier of feathers and were knocked aside.
"Vengeance!"
One knight howled and threw himself forward. The mages began their incantations. Tiyamal, seizing the moment, drew his bow and began to form a plasma arrow on the string.
That was when it happened.
"Stop!"
Abruptly, impossibly abruptly, a girl's voice rang out.
A piercing voice laced with uncontainable charisma and a strangely familiar tone.
The high note bored into their ears. The knights faltered against their will and turned toward the source of the sound.
A girl stood there.
A elf girl with flowing platinum-blonde hair and luminous green eyes.
She wore a bewildered expression, as if she couldn't believe the words that had just left her own mouth. Her nature—the elf's instinctive aversion to violence—had forced itself to the surface.
The royal garments hanging loosely on her body made her identity obvious.
The knights froze at the impossible sight. Stunned into denial, they hesitated. In that gap, Aslan turned his head toward Maria.
The woman was collapsed on the floor, staring at him with stunned eyes. When their gazes met, Aslan nodded.
Gulp.
Maria swallowed, then pushed herself upright.
She composed her disheveled clothing with practiced ease, then suddenly shouted:
"What is this commotion before the throne?!"
A high, clear voice similar to the elf girl's but more mature—clean in its delivery.
As the knights's bewildered eyes fixed on her, Maria strode toward the girl who so eerily resembled her and spoke.
Her tone was desperate.
"Are your eyes merely ornamental? Is your loyalty so lacking that you cannot recognize His Highness simply because his form has changed?!"
It was absurd logic.
No one expects a human to suddenly become a elf. And if the king you serve abruptly turns into one, the natural response is denial.
But absurd logic can sometimes be an effective tool.
The hall had become utter chaos—anger crashing in and paralyzing reason.
With seething emotion and confusion tangled together, Maria swept her gaze over the soldiers and knights exchanging uncertain looks, then abruptly dropped to one knee and bowed her head before the elf king.
"I behold His Highness Gerald, the now eternally undying sovereign of the Kingdom of Bida!"
The king's own blood, a member of the royal house, had acknowledged it. The implication was simple, and the knights with any sense of self-preservation hesitated no longer.
The most seasoned among them sighed inwardly at the violently overturned flow of power before they knelt, but no one cared.
A wave of sound followed—a cascade of knights dropping to one knee, and then the clatter of those swept along in their wake.
We behold His Highness Gerald!
The unified shout cut through the silence that followed. Aslan withdrew Domination and retracted the Wings of Stymphalos.
Then he exhaled.
He had trusted that Maria would respond in kind—trusted it completely.
And yet.
As he exhaled and blinked, a pair of innocent green eyes found him through the crowd.
Gerald, now turned into a elf and slowly being overwritten by a elf's way of thinking.
Meeting those green eyes staring at him, Aslan shaped a silent phrase with his lips.
'Forgive me.'
King Gerald's pupils trembled faintly. Aslan considered the situation.
The Kingdom of Bida under Gerald was nothing but a liability if the only goal was bringing it into the alliance.
There was no guarantee an alliance could even be formed, and no way to know if they would function properly within one.
Better to induce internal division.
With betrayal possible at any moment, Aslan had needed to remove King Gerald from the board.
As peacefully as possible—without throwing the Kingdom of Bida into chaos, without anyone dying.
That was why he had needed the Elfinization seed.
A King Gerald turned into a elf, an immortal king with boundless goodwill toward humanity, would pose no problem.
Aslan turned his head and saw Richard's complicated expression. He let out a bitter smile.
Richard had probably never imagined his revenge would look like this.
But Aslan could guarantee it was the most profitable form of revenge possible.
It was the only way to secure the Kingdom of Bida as the alliance's staunchest supporter while also fulfilling Richard's personal vengeance.
Aslan watched the spectacle of dozens, then hundreds of people kneeling before an immortal innocence, and saw the craving slowly drain from King Gerald's eyes.