Dancing with Elves (8): Drink, Vomit, Absorb, Excrete... and Exit
Four days had passed since entering the Elf Forest.
"Platinum Lord. How do we leave this place?"
"Leave?"
I had finally donned traces of civilization after four days, clothing that wasn't nature itself. It felt awkward slipping back into garments I hadn't worn for so long, but I couldn't very well appear before people in my natural state.
"A person can't survive on water alone, and there's no food here that suits me."
Provisions. That was the reason I'd mentioned a week to the family.
"According to imperial nutritional science, humans need a balanced intake of carbohydrates, proteins, and fats. So what have I eaten these past four days?"
"Water. Mana."
"I don't feel hunger, but humans can't live on water alone."
"Your body seems even sturdier after these four days."
"That's because mana is sustaining it."
For four days, I hadn't drunk anything but the mana spring.
"If I'm to stay here more than a week, I'll need to bring food."
There was truly nothing edible here. It wasn't pickiness—there was simply no human food.
"Elves are said to be forest spirits, but I never imagined I'd gain the power to live off sunlight alone."
Elves were forest spirits, scarcely different from plants. With just sun, water, and mana, they could live indefinitely—truly unique beings.
"I'll head out, handle business outside, and return to drink more mana."
"From the way you talk, it sounds like food is a dealbreaker."
"I never said it was impossible. If I could live peacefully like a plant, I could scatter seeds for fruits and vegetables here and farm. That wouldn't be bad."
Such a life might be possible in a miraculous era of peace after everything ended, when I could wander off with her. A dreamlike tale, but humans live diligently in the present by dreaming of such futures.
"I'm not planning to raise livestock here. I'll just bring the minimal meat and food to build muscle."
"That's troubling."
"What's troubling about it?"
"One reason the fallen children, corrupted into vampires, broke the rules and fled the forest was external food."
"...Tch."
I could picture it. When the Empire dominated the kingdom, its countless alchemically processed foods flooded kingdom tables. Stimulating, addictive flavors from alchemy. The Empire eradicated the kingdom's food culture overnight, starting colonial rule from the dinner table with food industrialization. If it happened to the kingdom, why not the elves?
"I see. So the Empire's foods are..."
"Human blood."
"........."
"To elves, humans were the most delicious thing."
The traitors becoming vampires instead of dessert ghosts suddenly made sense.
"Before entering, someone said they wanted to eat me. Was that literal?"
"Who knows. Probably both."
"What, are they praying mantises? Are elves evolved from mosquitoes into mantises?"
"Don't judge all elves by one deviant. We simply self-reproduce through grafting when we need offspring."
"........."
"Not me. I definitely bore children from human seed."
Some might find elven reproduction intriguing, but I had no interest.
"Anyway, I'll bring food, so come with me to the Gibraltar Mansion for now."
"Very well. Building your body is the top priority now; I can't ruin that plan."
Snap. The Platinum Lord flicked her fingers, and leaves rode the wind, adhering to her body.
"How did you... turn that into clothes?"
"Spirit arts. A secret technique only elves can use."
The Platinum Lord now wore the green dress-uniform she'd had on when first visiting the Gibraltar Mansion.
"It's just wrapping leaves, wind, and mana around the body."
"...Did you do that when you first came to the mansion?"
"Yes. But I wore this over it then." She tapped the ground lightly, donning the golden robe I'd seen before.
"This too is an elven secret I can't teach, even if I wanted to. Want to learn? Become an elf—faster that way."
"Is becoming an elf even possible?"
"A bloody elf?"
"You kill all bloody elves."
"Exactly. Want to use it? Prepare to die by my hand."
"I'll just dress slowly without it."
Some lessons were worth learning, others not.
"Instead, teach me more Ipheria-style on the way. And how to navigate the maze. And how to walk out of here."
"You ask for so much. I'll support you, but walking out is the wrong idea."
Whoosh.
"No need to walk."
The Platinum Lord whistled.
"Ah, right. The Pegasus."
A Pegasus descended from the sky, flapping white wings, and landed before us. I didn't know where it lived, but here it was.
"Do Pegasuses live in the Elf Forest too? They fly—do they survive on grass alone?"
"Grass, mana, sunlight—plenty."
"Indeed. My thinking was too narrow. This place defies human common sense."
I should have abandoned common sense from seeing elves roam in their natural state.
"Understood. So we fly out from here? The maze was just for show."
"No. We're riding."
The Platinum Lord mounted the Pegasus that had flown down.
"Walk behind, or ride with me?"
"........."
"The barrier blocks even flight. Hurry and mount."
She patted the spot behind her hips.
"C-can I steer it?"
"It carries you because I permit it—not because you want to."
The Pegasus snorted and stamped, wordless but clearly intelligent. I quietly mounted behind the Platinum Lord without protest.
"Mm..."
"Beyond me being who I am, you seem experienced putting a woman in front. Your hands naturally go to the waist."
"No other handholds."
"Is that so? This might be better."
She grabbed my hands, yanked them tight around her abdomen.
"Easier for me to steer now."
"Pardon me."
It was just cloth between us.
"Then I'll guide you. The passage out of the Elf Forest."
"...Passage?"
"Yes. Absurd as it is..."
She pulled the reins, and the Pegasus slowly stepped toward the dense woods.
"The first traitor, Tersian, escaped via an underground tunnel. Best for us and you."
"...A vampire passage?"
"Yes. Utterly ridiculous, but one elf who yearned for the outside dug this over 400 years."
"........."
How long did we travel? Beneath a gray building, a massive hole led underground, awaiting us.
"This is..."
"A great tree once stood here. See the rim?"
"...A tree?"
The hole was nearly 5 meters wide. Its edge felt familiar now—like tree bark.
"Hollowed a log house in the great tree, tunneled through the core, dug northward relentlessly."
"........."
"After 400 years of digging, Tersian reached... north."
The Platinum Lord shook her head in disbelief.
"What humans call the beast-polluted zone, old dwarf lands."
"........."
"Even now, some elves break rules and flee this way. Guards man the door to stop outsiders, but..."
Descending the hole, torchlight on the walls revealed elves awaiting us.
"High Lord. That one..."
"This human will use this path to come and go."
"Dangerous. Humans..."
"He's of the Guardian's kin. The current Guardian's eldest son—perhaps the next."
"........."
The bow-bearing elf guards exchanged glances, then bowed lightly.
"If High Lord says so."
"Shall I bring cake on the way back?"
"To a human city?!"
"Yes. Fetching food for his stays here."
"Th-that..."
The elf guards looked like they had something to say. A familiar expression—visitors to me as Gibraltar Margrave, seeking favors.
'Theirs is adorably tame, though.'
Overlook supply graft, invest and we'll double it, vouch for us since you're a good man. Compared to those, the elves' requests were cute.
"If it's Gibraltar desserts you want, bring ingredients—I can make them here."
"Wha—!"
"In exchange."
Granting requests demands a price.
"Eat my cake, and next time, will you wear human underwear?"
Thud, thud. The Pegasus walked slowly through the pitch-black underground passage.
Without light beaming from its forehead horn, it would be like walking eyes closed—the darkness was absolute.
"Traitors can't invade the forest this way."
Barely wide enough for three people abreast. The Pegasus walked with wings folded tight; our heads nearly brushed the ceiling mounted.
"Dug this deep, yet no collapses in 400 years?"
"Indeed."
"'Indeed,' you say."
"No elf ever imagined escaping by tunneling."
Fair enough. Like humans not picturing flight over canyons, no elf foresaw burrowing from the ruled land.
Not until seeing it.
"Tersian was cunning and adept at magic. Didn't haul dirt out—instead compressed it into solid walls."
"So this..."
"Made sturdy from the start—holds after centuries."
"........."
That desperate to escape? 400 years of digging showed insane resolve.
And—
"Nearly a millennium old, then?"
"Roughly, by timeline."
Digging for 400 years didn't mean escape after 400. Vampires predated the Nostrum dynasty.
Thus, this tunnel predated Nostrum and Tersian—the twin peaks of current human history.
"Hits me anew: elves have ancient history."
"........."
"Really that old?"
"Who knows." The Platinum Lord chuckled lowly.
"Want a lecture on elven history? I could go days."
"Politely decline. Whatever the history, kill and done?"
"Yes. That's the answer. But remember one thing."
Some profound truth?
"Tersian isn't just one traitor's name—it has origins."
"Sounds better unheard."
"Someday you'll think, 'Ah, that's what it meant.'"
"Usually when things go to hell."
...Sounds faded. The Platinum Lord's breath stopped; mine too.
"Tch." The Pegasus halted, crouching low.
"You said vampires know this passage."
"Yes."
"They could swarm in."
"Happens sometimes."
"........."
"Fancy a warmup?"
"Ha." Dismounting behind her, I drew the sword at my back.
"Never imagined underground scraps."
In the dark, red glinted. Clang—! My swung blade sent something rebounding off the wall.
"Platinum Lord. Corpses here—how to dispose?"
"Vampires evaporate in sunlight; Pegasus horn stores it."
"Thrust horn forward, ash 'em?"
"Who verifies your skill then?"
"......True."
Easy way existed, but...
"Perfect spot to test my current self."
Sometimes, take the harder path.
"Kyaaaah—!!" A bloody elf in imperial suit charged, red eyes blazing, claws gleaming.
"Careful. Those claws..."
"Aura."
Red-glowing nails—pseudo-aura. Humans need master level; elf-based vampires differed.
"Still."
I stepped forward right foot, drew and slashed diagonally.
"Aura or not, body isn't aura-clad."
Squelch.
"Not hard."
"Guh, guhuk...?"
Blade half in throat, black ooze dripped below.
"Bit annoying."
Light pressure on hilt—slash! Head dropped.
Cut twice at the stump.
"Next time, once."
Still far to go.