The Frog in the Well
Everyone has a plan… until they get punched in the face.
When Albert appeared, Griel paid him little mind. One more human on the battlefield would change nothing. After all, she was Griel—an High Elf chosen by the World Tree, contracted with the highest-grade ice spirit, and titled the strongest among all elders in history. With a single gesture she could turn ogres into ice statues, and even against a dragon, any adult dragon under two thousand years old would end in a draw—or, with luck, her victory.
‘I am Griel… an Elf Elder.’
As an Elf Elder, she basked in the World Tree’s favor and was both respected and envied by her people. That very confidence had brought her alone to the Dark Elf village. No matter how many Dark Elves there were, they could never harm her. She had not come to fight.
‘I only came to purify.’
Like a janitor sweeping away trash, she had come to eliminate the Dark Elves—shame of their race—in order to cleanse the corrupted World Tree. A massacre in the name of purification.
Combat only existed when both sides were roughly equal. The gap between Griel and the Dark Elves was that of heaven and earth, so what unfolded was not battle but slaughter.
‘And that’s exactly what happened.’
Guided by her spirit through the barrier, she entered the village. The Dark Elves resisted fiercely, yet a single wave of her hand or glance froze them solid, impaling them on ice spikes. Arrows flew, but none touched her. Overwhelming power. Even against dozens of Dark Elves’ coordinated assault, Griel walked forward without the slightest change in expression.
‘I am strong.’
With her strength, killing one sudden human intruder would be trivial. Or so she had thought. Soon enough, Griel realized it was nothing but empty arrogance—that there was yet another sky above the sky, and that she had been nothing more than a frog dreaming of her own kingdom at the bottom of a well.
Thud!!
“Kuhk!”
Griel’s head snapped sideways. The blow carried enough force to spin an ordinary person’s face clean off. Most people handled beautiful women, handsome men, or anything resembling fine art with instinctive care. Touching something noble made them cautious, as if their very instincts warned them: This is something that must not be damaged.
Albert was different.
“You’re going to keep getting hit, aren’t you? How dare you try to kill off such valuable soap-making talent.”
Thud! Thud-thud!
Albert struck Griel without the slightest hesitation or restraint. It was merciless violence, yet there was reason behind it.
‘There are plenty of strong women out there. No need to hold back.’
Back in the other world, there had naturally been female hunters. One particularly competitive huntress had challenged him to a match. Albert had deliberately held back—and paid the price.
[You got beaten half to death, remember?]
‘…….’
[Right arm fractured, ribs seven, six, and five cracked, and your teeth…]
[She kept yelling “Don’t underestimate women” while pounding you.]
The memory still made the old injuries ache. Women could be strong. He had seen plenty of men die after letting their guard down just because their opponent was female. So on the battlefield, Albert never showed mercy—not even when the enemy was a woman.
“Kaaaaak!”
—Don’t touch our child!!!
The ice spirit moved in Griel’s place, attacking Albert.
—How dare you lay a hand on my child!!
In the next instant, a massive wall of ice rose between Griel and Albert. It did not stop there—the wall wrapped around Albert, imprisoning him. An ice prison even an ogre could not easily break out of.
—Fall back!!
The ice spirit had given Griel time to regroup. It had poured considerable power into the prison; even if the intruder was strong, breaking free would take time. Enough time, at least, to recover—if that earlier display had been Albert’s full strength.
Crack! BOOM!
The ice prison shattered in less than a second. The ice spirit stared in shock.
—H-he broke it!? H-how!? Don’t tell me that wasn’t his full power!?
Its shock lasted only a moment. The spirit immediately prepared its next attack.
—Die!
Countless ice spears, swords, and arrows materialized in the sky.
“G-good heavens……”
“How……?”
The surviving Dark Elves trembled at the terrifying sight filling the entire sky. They had already witnessed the spirit’s power multiple times. No matter how strong the human intruder was, he could never block so many attacks alone.
‘We must prepare for death……’
Wide-range attack detected.
The entire village is within the attack radius.
Each individual strike carries power equivalent to 5th-circle magic.
It poses no threat to Albert, but the Dark Elves will die.
What shall we do?
Normally the System would have acted on its own, but this time it asked for instructions. It was respecting its master’s will in a combat situation.
“What do you mean, what shall we do?”
Albert drew his sword from his subspace. The moment he gripped it, his presence transformed. An overwhelming aura radiated from him, dominating the surroundings. Simply standing there made it hard to breathe.
“I have to protect my soap slaves myself.”
Mana Enhancement skill activated.
Physical Enhancement skill activated.
Attack Range Increase skill activated.
Acceleration skill activated.
Sword Enhancement skill activated.
The sword glowed with an ominous red light. In the next instant, Albert swung it once.
A single crimson line drawn across a blank canvas—yet it radiated overwhelming presence, captivating every eye. The moment the line connecting two points was completed, every ice attack filling the sky vanished.
Crack!
Shattered ice fragments rained down like snow celebrating the finished masterpiece.
—H-how……?
The ice spirit could not believe it. A single swing had erased countless attacks that had blanketed the sky. Was such a thing possible? Perhaps for an Ancient Dragon, but—
‘That human is definitely not a dragon. Then why do I feel the weight of years that should never exist in a human?’
More than anything, that technique. Even a Master—the pinnacle of humanity—could never perform such a feat. Could an 8th-circle mage manage it? No. The ice spirit had lived over a thousand years; it knew the truth.
‘Impossible.’
Even a Master could not handle its attacks so easily. That left only one possibility.
‘Grand Master……?’
—That’s impossible…… A Grand Master…… No, it can’t be……
Yet the spirit quickly regained its composure—its long life had not been in vain. There was no time to hesitate.
—Griel! You must flee!
Startled by the spirit’s sharp cry, Griel snapped back to her senses. She poured spirit power into the World Tree branch she carried. Light flashed from it.
‘Should I flee like this……? But I still need to kill all the Nevblers…… I need to purify them…… It’s a shame, but first I must escape this monster. Retreat for now……’
“Where do you think you’re running? You think you can start something and just leave?”
Albert would not allow her escape. Even using the World Tree branch, the return would take one second. In that time, the current Albert could swing his sword over a hundred times.
—Hup!
Albert moved as though folding space. His eyes flashed, and his sword gleamed.
—No!!!
The ice spirit poured all its power into creating a wall to block Albert’s sword. It was a futile hope. The power of a highest-grade spirit—not even a Spirit King—could never stop an EX-rank Hunter. The wall was sliced through. Just as the blade was about to reach Griel—
Clang!
Something blocked the sword. It was Griel, holding the World Tree branch to parry Albert’s strike. The seemingly fragile twig had absurdly stopped his blade.
Analyzing.
It appears to be some form of blessing.
A World Tree blessing that blocks any attack once, perhaps.
Divine power had intervened. The World Tree’s power proved stronger than expected; Albert’s attack was halted. In the next moment, light flashed and Griel vanished.
“Wow, she actually got away?”
Albert had swung to take her head, but the World Tree’s blessing had blocked the blade. Without that safeguard, Griel’s head would already be rolling on the ground. He had seen it—the venomous glare in her eyes just before she disappeared.
When a woman holds a grudge, frost falls even in midsummer, they say.
‘I know. I stole the pudding Han Yeseul was saving once and she held it over my head for ten years.’
It had been maddening. Only Han Yeseul would nurse a grudge over a single pudding for an entire decade.
Well, that was your fault, Albert.
That pudding was given to you by Kang Min-seob.
“……Was it?”
So that was why. When he had asked why she was so angry over one pudding, her face had flushed red; he had assumed she was catching a cold. It turned out Kang Min-seob had given it to her.
‘That muscle-brained idiot isn’t just one hopeless case—he’s two.’
Fifty years of “just talking” would be Guinness-worthy. Cowards. They charged at any monster without fear, yet couldn’t bring themselves to approach each other.
‘Pathetic.’
Still, Albert knew exactly how terrifying a woman’s obsession could be. That was why he preferred to eliminate future troubles.
‘Tracking?’
Impossible.
Because it’s the World Tree’s authority, I cannot track it like ordinary magic.
•́︿•̀ ｡
If only my authority were higher!! It’s too low!
Hing……
If the System couldn’t do it, then it was impossible. A shame—he disliked leaving loose ends. Still……
Albert lowered his gaze. There lay a severed arm. Griel’s arm. The World Tree’s blessing had only worked once; the moment his sword was blocked, he had changed trajectory and cut off the limb.
“I’ve taken one arm, so she won’t act recklessly for a while.”
Now then. Albert turned to the Dark Elves standing frozen behind him, staring blankly at the aftermath. He grinned. Most had died to Griel, but roughly thirty remained.
‘That’s plenty.’
He had secured enough soap-making slaves. Albert began imagining how he would work them, painting a rosy future. After all this effort, he deserved to squeeze every drop of value from them. Lock them in solitary cells and make nothing but soap? Maybe throw in some military rations as incentive?
‘I’ll work them. Keep working them until they produce only soap. With this many, three shifts should be feasible.’
Albert sketched his wicked plan.
Haah.
(－‸ლ)
The System could only sigh.