Not Anymore
“Not anymore……”
“Purification……”
“For the World Tree……”
“We must deal with the Nebulers……”
Led by the High Elf Elder Griel, the elves continued their relentless march. Their sole objective was to slaughter every dark elf on the continent and restore the corrupted World Tree to its original state. That was all that mattered.
Their conviction to protect the World Tree—their mother—had been twisted by some outside influence. Conviction became obsession, obsession hardened into fixation, and that fixation had now descended into madness.
The corruption continued. Their once-pale skin gradually darkened, though not into the healthy bronze of true dark elves. Instead, their flesh took on a sickly, diseased hue, mirroring the World Tree’s own blight.
“……Kill them.”
“If they block us…… kill them……”
They moved with a deathly aura, voices dripping with malice, never pausing in their march. Whenever obstacles appeared, they cut them down without hesitation. Mere humans stood no chance.
‘If they interfere…… we kill them.’
‘No matter who they are.’
Nothing could stop them. For the World Tree…… for their mother, the purification ritual was absolute. And that ritual demanded the blood of dark elves.
‘The Nebulers……’
‘Capture them……’
The march pressed on. When human villages blocked their path, the elves erased them without a second thought—men, women, children, animals, monsters—anything that stood in their way. Even the occasional strong human who tried to resist ultimately fell.
‘A village……’
Another human settlement appeared ahead. They had lost count of how many they had already destroyed, but it didn’t matter. If it obstructed their path, they would wipe it out and continue onward.
“Forward……”
“For our mother……”
“For the World Tree……”
The march of death could not be halted by anyone.
“They’re here!”
“Damn it……!”
In a village of roughly a hundred residents, people peered over the wooden palisade at the approaching figures.
“Those monsters……”
Though they wore elven forms, their gait and presence were those of the undead. Rumors said entire villages had vanished because of them—an unstoppable march of death. Even knights who had gone out to stop them were said to have been slaughtered.
“What do we do now?”
“Shouldn’t we run?”
“Run? Where to?”
“Well……”
“We have to survive first! How are we supposed to fight those things!?”
“You’d abandon our home just like that!?”
“I know how important our home is! But it’s better than dying!”
“Exactly! If we’re dead, the village doesn’t matter anymore! We have to live!”
Opinions split. Some insisted on defending their home to the end; others demanded they flee.
“We have to protect our village! Why are you thinking about running first!?”
“That’s right!! We should defend our home with our own hands!”
“Didn’t you hear!? The knights came, but they were no match! How are you going to beat something even knights couldn’t defeat!?”
“How are we supposed to fight? We don’t have armor or proper weapons! What, are we going to swing sickles? Or hoes!?”
Ordinary villagers stood no chance against monsters that even knights couldn’t defeat. It was impossible.
As arguments raged without resolution, the villagers turned to their aged chief.
“Chief! You must make a decision!”
“That’s right! We can’t go on like this. We need to decide—run…… or fight.”
“Ugh……”
The chief groaned. In his final years as chief, why had something like this happened? He had planned to hand over the position next year and enjoy his retirement, but his last days had taken a cruel turn.
“Haa……”
‘Still, I am the chief. They’re waiting for my decision.’
It seemed too soon to set down the heavy burden on his shoulders. He had to fulfill his duty.
‘Is running truly the right choice? Abandoning the land we’ve protected for so long?’
‘But they’re no ordinary foes. If even knights struggle, how could we possibly stop them?’
Black and white thoughts swirled in his mind like paint, blending into a single color—gray. Not clear, but the best option available right now.
“We abandon the village.”
“Chief!! How can you say that about our home!?”
“We have to survive first. We can always rebuild a home. If buildings collapse, we rebuild them. But if people die…… can we bring them back?”
“That’s……”
“When someone dies, it’s over. Unlike objects, they can’t be fixed……. I understand how you feel about our home, but…… isn’t life more important?”
The villagers slowly nodded at the chief’s words.
“Then it’s decided. Move quickly. Report this to the knights as well. Fortunately, those damned elves are moving on foot, so they’re slow……”
“Ch-Chief!”
At that moment, a man named Hans who had been watching the elves from the palisade called out urgently.
“What is it, Hans?”
“Th-the elves!! C-come up here and see for yourself!”
“Haa…… It’s hard enough on my back already……. Tsk.”
His waist already ached, and now they wanted him to climb the palisade. Was this elder abuse? Still, Hans’s desperate tone suggested something serious had happened. The chief forced himself up onto the wall.
And then he understood why Hans had called him so urgently.
“The elves! Those crazy bastards are running!?”
The elves, who had been advancing at a steady walk until now, were suddenly sprinting toward them at an alarming speed—as if they had taken some kind of drug.
Having placed all their hopes on the elves continuing their slow march, the chief muttered without thinking.
“Son of a bitch…… Why the hell are they suddenly running……?”
* * *
The elven assault had begun.
“Purification……”
“Nebuler……”
The elves had become monsters consumed by madness. The murderous intent pouring from their eyes was chilling enough to squeeze the hearts of those who saw them. Who could possibly associate these creatures with the graceful, forest-dwelling elves of legend?
Books described elves as gentle and peace-loving. Reality told a different story.
Gentle? Peace-loving?
“Destruction!”
“Chaos!”
Look at them. Far from gentle, they displayed symptoms of extreme anger management issues, craving destruction over peace, inciting turmoil and chaos.
“Kuh! Hold them back!”
“We have to save them!”
“Endure!!!”
The elves had breached the village. The knights who had been waiting in their tents for orders rushed out to fight. They were knights—protecting the weak was their duty, and the villagers were the weak who needed protection.
“If we hold, the people can survive!”
The burly knight commander barked orders.
“Est, Las, Kas! Circle around to the right and stop anything climbing over the palisade! Roha, Raka, Kaizen! Take the left! The rest, follow me! Block the ones who’ve already entered!”
“Understood!”
“Orders received!”
Though the attack had come without warning, the knights executed their orders with composure. They knew they couldn’t win, but they had to buy time for the villagers to escape.
“We are knights! As knights, we choose an honorable death! Everyone! Follow me!”
“We follow!”
“Hold the line!”
The knights raised their swords and charged the elves. The elves showed no mercy. They slaughtered humans without hesitation—men, women, and children alike—killing anyone they deemed an obstacle.
“Kuh…… These damned monster bastards!”
The knights fought with renewed fury. The ground was already stained with blood, corpses littering the village. The sight of elves giggling amid the carnage was grotesque.
Even more horrifying was the realization—
“Those things…… Did they eat the humans……?”
Bite marks covered the bodies, and fresh blood stained the elves’ lips. A chill ran down their spines.
These were not elves. They were something wearing elven skins.
“Vile monsters!! Eating humans!?”
Even faced with such horror, the knights’ resolve did not waver. With the single-minded determination to protect, they swung their swords—for an honorable death, for the sake of remaining knights.
“We will stop them!”
“For our honor!!”
But the elves were strong. They dodged the knights’ blades with ease, then closed in and drove their blackened claws through armor and into hearts.
“Kuhak!!”
“Those who block us…… will all die!”
The scene was one of frenzied slaughter. Buildings collapsed. The once-sturdy palisade lay in ruins. Destruction and chaos merged into pure madness.
“Hic…… Daddy……”
A child wept in terror. The sounds of slaughter and screams assaulted his ears, filling him with overwhelming fear. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he trembled, waiting for his father.
“Aren! There you are!”
“Daddy!”
The boy’s father came running and pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Thank goodness! Are you hurt anywhere!?”
“No, I’m okay. What about you, Daddy?”
“Daddy’s fine too. Now……”
“Hic! D-Daddy!”
An elf was approaching from behind, drooling, eyes filled with hostility and bloodlust. The murderous aura made Aren tremble.
“D-Daddy……”
“Kuh……”
The man pushed his son behind him and gritted his teeth.
‘I will…… protect my son……’
Even if it meant throwing away his own life. But would that truly be enough?
‘If only I were as strong as that man……’
Ten years ago, he had met a mercenary with an enormous build and muscles so massive they made one question whether he was human. Unlike other mercenaries, he killed monsters with his bare fists. The power those muscles generated was beyond imagination.
‘Still, he was reliable.’
The man had said the back told the story. Standing behind that mercenary had felt incredibly reassuring and safe. His face had been a little intimidating, but the sight of him protecting others had filled the young man with admiration and awe.
And so he had made a vow. This time, he would become that reliable back for his son. As a father. Even if he was still small and unremarkable, he would be a sturdy shield—that was the promise he had made that day.
‘I even trained my muscles trying to follow that mercenary……. Well, not that it amounts to much……’
“If it were him…… he could have protected my son……”
“Keeeak!”
The elf attacked. The man clutched his son and turned his back, determined to shield him no matter what.
But—
‘Why…… is there no impact?’
There should have been pain by now, yet nothing happened. Confused, the man turned his head.
And saw it.
A massive, mountain-like back of muscle standing protectively in front of him. A familiar set of back muscles. The face didn’t matter. Once seen, those muscles were unforgettable.
“Y-You are……”
The elf’s claws were stabbing into that back. Razor-sharp, they could easily slice through flesh and bone. Any ordinary person would have been pierced instantly.
But—
“Those pathetic claws can’t pierce my Braum. Come back after you’ve trained more.”
“Keeeak!”
“You should answer when spoken to. And not with screams from your workout.”
The man threw a punch, and the elf’s head—which had survived until now—exploded.
That absurdly powerful fist! The overwhelming confidence and arrogance in those muscles that refused to defend! And—
‘That peculiar habit of naming his muscles!’
The man was certain. This was the mercenary he had seen ten years ago! He had come. Just like back then, to save him!
With the eyes of his younger self, the man looked up at him with sparkling admiration.
“You…… You’re that mercenary from back then, right!?”
At the question, the man—Aiden—turned his head indifferently. After glancing at him once, he turned away and spoke.
“Not anymore.”
* * *
“Hey there.”
Albert raised his hand lightly in greeting to the being glaring at him with murderous eyes. His tone was cheerful and light, completely at odds with the tense atmosphere. Dozens of bloodthirsty gazes were fixed on him, yet he showed no sign of tension. A born performer—nerves simply didn’t exist for him.
“You……”
In front of the elves lay wounded knights, all staring blankly at the suddenly appeared Albert. At the center of the group, Griel scanned the surroundings, searching for any dark elves. Finding none, she turned her gaze back to him.
“……No Nebulers…… You’re alone?”
“Yeah, still single.”
“……”
“What? Interested in me? Sorry, but I’m not into older women like you. Honestly, you’re probably several times my age…… Going after younger guys at your age is a bit much, don’t you think?”
“……”
“Well, jokes aside.”
Albert looked at Griel calmly.
“Stop tormenting the weak. Fight me instead.”