Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: The North Mountain Elves
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After the other mercenaries subdued and dragged away Miska, who was spouting nonsense because his brain had migrated back to his groin, the group descended the hill along a narrow path.
The forest was farther away than it had appeared from atop the hill.
After traveling roughly a kilometer, they could clearly make out a group emerging from the woods, close enough to discern their attire.
“That… those are elves?”
Piot asked, his eyes wide.
The elves waiting at the forest entrance were all armed and mounted not on horses, but on different animals.
They superficially resembled cattle, but were dark in color and larger in build.
And unlike oxen, their massive horns protruded forward from the forehead rather than to the sides of the head.
“Could those be… d-deer?”
“You got it. Deer. Gau, to be precise.”
“Gau? No way, what kind of deer is that big… whoa…”
He had hunted regularly back home and even taken down some fairly large deer, but this gau was beyond common sense.
Even the largest deer shouldn’t be able to carry a person—let alone an armed adult.
But the approaching group was unmistakably riding deer-like creatures, neither horses nor oxen.
“Deer? Deer?”
“Look at the size. Bigger than a decent bull, isn’t it?”
“And why are they so tall?”
The mercenaries seeing gau for the first time couldn’t hide their astonishment.
*‘I was shocked the first time I saw one too.’*
Long ago, when Sion first laid eyes on the gau the elves had brought with them, he had been utterly stunned.
But Sion soon recalled that Earth had similar creatures.
He had never seen one in person, but gau closely resembled the moose native to North America.
The only difference was that their antlers pointed forward rather than spreading like palms; otherwise, the size and appearance were strikingly similar.
Even their fierce temperament, which made them nearly impossible to domesticate.
Yet the elves, known as the forest folk, had tamed these massive deer and used them like oxen or horses.
With great strength and speed only slightly slower than a horse—quite fast overall—they were ideal for both labor and riding.
“They look useful. It’d be great if we could raise some.”
“The elves have been domesticating gau for ages. Why do you think humans haven’t?”
“Pardon?”
“Because only elves can tame them. Plus, the meat is tough and tasteless for food use.
The hide is decent, but there are plenty of alternatives, so no reason to focus on them. And above all, gau can’t survive long outside elf habitats.”
Gau lived 20-25 years, similar to oxen or horses—but only when living with elves.
Wild gau near elf settlements lasted about ten years, and without elves at all, they didn’t survive.
Thus, every human attempt to raise them had failed.
“That’s a shame.”
“Still, you’ll see them often in the Sion Dukedom. They use gau instead of horses or oxen quite a bit there.”
“Didn’t you just say only elves can raise them?”
“The Sion ducal family has good relations with the elves. A small number live among humans at the family’s request. They raise gau and help with various tasks.”
“You know a lot about this? Our founder made it that way.”
Sirban had sneaked up at some point and chimed in proudly.
“Elves are aloof and proud. But our founder earned even their respect. That’s why we followed him to the dukedom, and we still help to this day. However…”
Unaware that the founder he so admired stood right before him, Sirban shot a meaningful glance and continued.
“They dislike outsiders, especially royals. But don’t worry. With me and Uncle Yonas…”
“Hey? Hey, where are you going?”
Sion suddenly spurred his horse forward, leaving Sirban flustered.
“Sir Sailun! No, that guy really…”
Sirban started to call after Sion but stopped.
*‘Hmph! Time he got shown his place.’*
Elves were known as gentle, peace-loving folk.
But that stemmed from their beauty and their aid to the six heroes in the Demon Dragon War.
At least the people of the Sion Dukedom knew better.
How exclusive and belligerent elves truly were.
Even flying the Sion ducal banner, outsiders—especially armed ones—would be met with extreme wariness; they wouldn’t even deign to converse.
*‘Acting like he knows all about elves. Good. Let him get humiliated.’*
As Sirban smirked inwardly, planning to step in reluctantly (but coolly) if Sion begged for help after being snubbed.
“Good day. Strong and mighty afternoon. Does Watchers’ Woods welcome overnight guests? Still?”
“Overnight allowed. Always welcome. If you wish, hunting and gathering permitted. Bribe required. Thirty percent of yield.”
“Generous bribe offered. Gift for Elder. Approved?”
“Elder appreciates polite gifts. Likes guests. What reciprocity do you seek?”
“Conversation only.”
“Good miracle.”
The exchange sounded bizarre, but to Sirban, whose Elvish was still rudimentary, that’s all it registered as.
“Wha— you speak Elvish?”
“I’ve never heard it before, but that was Elvish? Nephew, what did Sir Sailun say?”
Piot, equally stunned, asked, and Sirban hesitated.
“F-first greetings, then something about overnight stays and bribes… I think?”
“Overnight? Bribes?”
“Tsk tsk! I told you to study Elvish harder, but you’re still like this?”
Yonas clucked his tongue and interjected, making Sirban flush.
“Does brother know Elvish well?”
Now fully accepting Piot as family, Yonas gave him a warm smile.
“Any of our house should know basic Elvish, little brother Piot. You’re the exception, of course. Learn at your pace. If you want, I’ll assign a native teacher.”
“Ah, thank you, brother.”
“Haha! No need for such words. Are we strangers? We’re family! Family! Hahaha!”
Sirban felt dumbfounded—and jealous—as Yonas laughed heartily and clapped Piot’s back.
*‘He’s never said that to me.’*
Sirban sulked.
Piot, now realizing his bratty(?) young nephew was still a kid, patted Sirban’s drooping shoulder.
“You should learn together, nephew. You know more than me, so teach on the way.”
“Oh! Excellent idea.”
Yonas beamed and nudged Sirban.
Feeling a bit better at the chance to school his vastly superior granduncle in something, Sirban perked up.
But he didn’t want to admit it.
“W-well, if Uncle Yonas insists, no choice. Studying together wouldn’t hurt. N-not that I’m teaching because granduncle asked, okay.”
*‘He’s a kid.’*
*‘Total kid.’*
*‘Young master’s adorable…’*
Something risky mixed in, but even the surrounding mercenaries now grasped Sirban’s type.
“Not even tsundere, geez.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
Sion smiled faintly upon returning from his “strong and mighty” chat with the elves, witnessing the endearing family exchange.
“Anyway, the elves approved.”
“Ah! Straight to the dukedom then?”
“No. We see the Elder first—the elf elder.”
“The Elder…!?”
“The elf elder?”
Yonas wasn’t surprised at all, but Sirban and Piot echoed back for different reasons.
Sirban knew what the Elder signified; Piot didn’t understand why they needed to meet one.
“To truly join the Sion ducal family, certain steps are required. Meeting the Elder is one.”
“Ah, I see. Understood.”
Having learned over months that Sion possessed vast knowledge and experience beyond his years, Piot nodded readily.
But Sirban was different.
“Huh, meet the Elder…? The elves are introducing an outsider to the Elder?”
Stunned and murmuring in dismay, Sirban turned to Yonas.
“Uncle, is this really okay? What if the main house causes trouble later…”
“It’s fine.”
“Huh?”
Sirban’s face went blank at the unhesitating reply.
“But…”
As Sirban rallied to press further, a massive shadow suddenly fell over them.
“We never turn away travelers who know our tongue, culture, and etiquette.”
An elf astride a gau—his head towering two or three heads taller than their warhorses—spoke in a fluid, graceful tone like flowing water.
“And he said you bear Sion blood. New Sions are always welcome.”
The elf smiled at Piot.
Piot felt not just awe, but a dreamy haze, as if midsummer rain-kissed trees sparkled anew under sunlight.
“Oh, and I am Priel North Mountain. Pleased to meet you, grandson of Maria Sion.”
“Ah… yes! I’m Piot, Piot Sion Kilburn. Pleased to meet you, Lord North Mountain.”
“Not a knight, so ‘lord’ doesn’t fit. And North Mountain is the surname our first Sion gave our kind, so use my given name.”
Sirban quickly interjected.
“Granduncle, the elves in our dukedom have three surnames total: North Mountain, High Mountain, South Mountain.”
“Oh… unique yet dignified surnames.”
“I think so too. The first Sion was a peerless warrior and a great scholar, or so I’ve heard.”
“Hmm! Alright, let’s go.”
Sion, feeling awkward, urged them on.
The elves’ similar names, plus needing to settle them in separate areas, made inventing surnames tedious, so he’d assigned North Mountain (for those sent north), South Mountain (south), High Mountain (highest peaks)—a secret.
The elves might deem him tyrant-without-guilt if they knew.
* * *
The group parked their wagons at the elves’ shelter huts and, guided by Priel and elf warriors, veered off the road into the forest.
The woods darkened within hours, but they reached the elf village before sunset.
The village bore the surname North Mountain, granted by Sion when he first settled the elves here.
Being nighttime, the village felt quiet.
Elves, with excellent night vision and minimal fire use at home, made it pitch dark besides.
“This way.”
For their human guests, over ten torches blazed, and the group followed Priel, soothing regrets over not sightseeing the village (though the real aim was elf women).
After a few minutes from the entrance, Priel halted and turned.
The followers stopped puzzledly too.
Priel calmly scanned the group.
Not all held torches; some faces flickered in shadow, but elven sight pierced it, reading every expression.
And Priel, finest warrior of the North Mountain Elves, spotted exactly three humans whose eyes subtly shifted leftward.
“You can see them, I presume.”
“…???”
Yonas, Sirban, and nearly all humans looked baffled.
But the three Priel eyed in turn—Piot, Janstrick mercenary captain Stelmann, and Sion—reacted differently.
Piot and Stelmann panicked, idiotically whipping their heads left repeatedly; Sion stared back, face slightly tense.
Priel picked up a twig and drew something on the ground.
“Can you see this symbol on your left? And the numbers?”
Sion, Piot, and Stelmann’s gazes dropped to the dirt.
[LEVEL]
It read thus on the soil floor.
(To be continued in the next part)