Chapter 48: Elf Girl (Part 1)
Chapter 48: Elf Girl (Part 1)
A Constellation.
Written with the characters for "star" (星) and "seat" (座), the term is literally understood to mean a being seated among the stars. Whether that holds true in the novels of my old world or not, the view we get on our screens here makes it clear enough.
This one-room might lack a door and any hint of the outside world, but a Constellation in this realm is a being who resides above the sky. Just as the constellations back on Earth had their own myths, there was a time here when the stars were cited as proof that the Constellations watched over this world.
Perhaps the continent itself is flat to make it easier to look down from above.
In any case, that is what a Constellation is. A being who stands above humanity and looks down. Some, like me, treat humans as equals, but most regard them as beneath them. It might be the attitude of a noble toward a commoner, or the gaze of one species upon another.
I am not saying they are arrogant.
I am saying that our upbringings, our lived worlds, and even our species differ, so our perspectives have no choice but to differ. You cannot call a hawk cruel for eating a pigeon, nor an elephant lazy for eating grass.
My point is that a Constellation's point of view is simply different from that of an ordinary human.
"So, you wish to send this as a ritual offering, correct?"
"Yes, that is right. It is the will of our Constellation."
I was observing a Ritual Magic lesson in Lee Ha-rin's classroom, sipping coffee, when a middle-aged man approached and requested a ritual. The dandy middle-aged man wore his suit well, and what he presented were tiny pots that fit in the palm of a hand.
They were not expensive, rare treasures. What grew in the pots were edible vegetables like lettuce and peppers—the sort of thing a housewife might grow at home to pass the time. Considering the cost of the ritual materials, the facilitation fee, and the permit to enter the Academy, this was the tail wagging the dog—or more like the dog was nothing but tail.
"Well... understood."
Lee Ha-rin, pulling strings through her Magic Studies professor, prepared the ritual with a slightly dubious expression. She seemed to find it awkward, sending tiny vegetables you could buy for less than fifty thousand won at a local mart up to a Constellation while pocketing millions for the service.
But what could she do? The Incarnation and the Constellation threw money at her because it made them happy.
In front of the miniature lettuce pots neatly arranged on the magic circle and altar, Lee Ha-rin recited the incantation with dignity. A wind whipped up inside the sealed space, light flared from the magic circle, and the pots vanished successfully.
At the same moment, a high-pitched ringing buzzed in my head, followed by a lively girl's voice.
- Th-thank you so much!
A clear, refreshing voice echoed in my ears like a song. Setting my coffee down, I subtly scanned the room. Two men and a woman were prostrate on the floor, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. The elderly Magic Studies professor, the middle-aged client, and Lee Ha-rin were all solemnly bowing toward the altar.
'What the hell is going on?'
The sight of a middle-aged man bowing as if it were common sense around here, then getting up with tears of emotion—it was a little unnerving, since I could not make sense of it. Before I could ask Lee Ha-rin what was happening, the voice came back.
- I'll gi-ive you a gi-ift~
In the same instant, the carpet on the floor began to writhe. The sight was somewhat grotesque, making both me and the magic professor take a step back, but Lee Ha-rin and the client, knowing what was coming, yanked the carpet away.
Beneath it, the wooden floor was squirming. The floor was clearly stone-finished classroom tile, yet it moved unnaturally. The bumpy stone surface shook, cracked open, and sprouted a pale green bud the size of a human palm.
[The Constellation, the Unfading Giant Tree, bestows its grace.]
The bud rooted into the stone floor and shot up, forming vines that climbed the wrists of the three dazed onlookers and transformed into bracelets. An interfering power that was leagues beyond my own pitiful ability to send down a single Avatar sharing only a fraction of my senses.
- Take go-od care of my chi-ildren, okay?
Come to think of it, "The Unfading Giant Tree" sounded familiar. I must have heard it somewhere before.
※
My Avatar's operation time ran out, and I woke up back in my one-room before I could get a proper explanation. Plenty of questions nagged at me, but I figured I would just listen in tonight. With that thought, I pushed myself up from the bed.
"Ack, what the fuck!"
I had trusted my muscular body and bounced up with a burst of core strength, only for my vision to flash white and a sharp pain to lance through my forehead. A novel situation in this desolate, practically empty one-room. I was so startled that I even used a breakfall technique to roll out of bed and scan the area.
"...What is this?"
A huge tree branch loomed right in front of my face. It extended naturally from the wall beside my bed, swaying gently. A few leaves had even fallen off, probably from me slamming my head into it. Staring at the deep mahogany branch and its jewel-like leaves, I finally understood the minds of rich people who spent thousands or millions on bonsai.
Was this the blessing of the Unfading Giant Tree? I was so flustered I was standing there appraising a branch.
I tore my gaze from the branch above the bed and looked around more carefully. The one-room had changed drastically. It was like someone had applied a premium skin to the place.
The analogy sounded cheap even to me, but my brain could not conjure up anything better for the situation.
First, the floor. The old laminate had turned into antique wood flooring. Not the plastic-coated processed stuff, but the kind that felt cool underfoot. The small dining table was now an old-fashioned solid wood table. The desk under the TV and computer monitor had transformed into a black wood desk. Ebony was the only black wood I knew.
The size of the room and the refrigerator had clearly increased as well. The tiny fridge that once barely reached my waist now nearly touched the ceiling. The fact that there was still wall space left beside this giant fridge suggested the room itself had expanded somewhat.
The bed, the wallpaper, the ceiling, the lighting—everything had been revamped into a design evoking fresh greenery and summer.
I rushed to open the refrigerator door. With my old apocalyptic habits still kicking in, I found myself worried about food. Above the compartments holding canned sodas and frozen meals, a new section had appeared. Inside were various fruits, salads, and vegetable juices.
'Well, they are certainly committed to the theme.'
Thinking it had been a while since I had had a drink that was not soda, I pulled out a bottle of fresh strawberry juice.
'This is actually pretty nice... but what is the situation here?'
I do not have some refined hobby of eating only salads, but having fresh vegetables to pair with greasy stuff like frozen pork cutlets was genuinely welcome. The veggies in those frozen meal boxes were always terrible.
As I mulled this over and sipped the strawberry juice, something plopped onto my stinging forehead.
[Hello, resident of dreams?]
A letter written in a round, bubbly script.
I looked up. The branch that had been above the bed had naturally shifted position. In the windless one-room, the branch swayed softly. I hurriedly spent 1 pt on a notepad and a ballpoint pen, scribbled a note, and tucked it between the twigs.
[Hello, am I speaking to the Unfading Giant Tree?]
Polite, to start with. My one-room had been upgraded, my food stocks had increased, and the ebony furniture looked pretty damn expensive—I could not even guess how many points they were worth. Holding the respectful note up to the branch was a ridiculous sight. Of course, the branch moved on its own and the note disappeared among the dense leaves, which made it decidedly less ridiculous.
Writing notes like this brought back memories of the shelter, when the network was dead and I would wedge memos into the cracks of the fractured walls. The bad memories kept resurfacing just when I was about to forget them.
Until night fell, I forgot about the screens entirely and conversed by note. The stories of this elf girl, a resident of a fantasy world, were far more entertaining than that flat continent resembling my old world.
The Unfading Giant Tree was quite an old Constellation. She had been a resident of a fantasy world where humans, elves, dwarves, and beastkin lived together under the name of the Human Alliance. A typical Demon King invaded and a Hero struck him down, but the ultimate poison left behind by the Demon King contaminated the world, killing everyone except the children hidden inside the World Tree.
There had been a few human and beastkin children too, but due to lifespan differences, the elf girl had naturally become the last survivor and crossed over into this world. With a rather chatty personality and apparent comfort with exchanging handwritten letters, she sent over page after page of chatter.
[I contract with forest rangers, farmers, and veterinarians to grant my blessings.]
[Food bought with points has no natural flavor.]
[The scent of artificial mana is so off-putting, I find it hard to eat point-purchased food.]
[You are the first one to keep me company in conversation for so long.]
[Other Constellations dislike the branches of the World Tree extending into their rooms.]
The only way for Constellations to interact directly without an Incarnation was to Descend to the surface and meet. Direct meetings inside one's personal space seemed impossible. That must be why she extended these so-called Branches of the World Tree to initiate contact.
Well, a small-time nobody like me who only recently became a Constellation gets a room upgrade and feels grateful for it. Would a guy who lived as a noble, like the Incinerating Tyrant, want someone else's interference stretching into his mansion?