I Became an Elf Who Swallowed a Legend (01)

That day, my head felt like it was about to split wide open. I'd been bedridden for three whole days, and every time Grandmother laid a damp cloth across my forehead, unfamiliar scenes kept surfacing behind my eyes—and each one frightened me.

A flickering fluorescent light. A monitor crammed with endless text. A convenience-store lunch box gone cold. And the figure of a man sighing, his necktie hanging loose... Little by little, those memories were becoming familiar.

Because they were the life of the very person called me. To be precise—the life I'd lived before being born into this body.

An ordinary office worker on a planet called Earth. A dull life that was never any fun. I bounced back and forth between overtime and weekend shifts until, one day, it simply cut out. I can't recall how it ended—a traffic accident, or just working myself to death.

Honestly, it didn't matter. There was a far more urgent problem sitting right in front of me. I steadied my breathing and forced my eyes halfway open. Just how deep had I been under? Even now everything felt hazy.

"Silvia! Silvia! Are you coming back to us?"

"...Grandmother? Wh-where am I?"

"Awake at last! Thank goodness."

"I-I'm sorry. I think I came down with something."

"Don't push yourself so hard next time, child."

Grandmother wrapped both hands around mine. Peeking out beside her wrinkled cheek was a slender, pointed ear. I, Grandmother, everyone in this village—we were all elves.

A chill shot down my spine. The scenery outside the window was disturbingly familiar. Hold on. A quiet elf village, a spring where spirits dwell—and isn't that a great tree standing guard at the village entrance?

I had seen this view any number of times through a monitor. ...In the prologue of a 19+ adult visual novel.

I didn't want ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to believe it, but I had to check.

"Grandmother, this place... what was the village's name again?"

"Oh dear, the fever's climbed all the way to your head. It's Luen, of course—where else would it be? Now stay right here. I'll brew you some medicine, so be a good girl and rest."

Luen. The name nearly dragged a curse out of me before I could stop it. Of all the places, it had to be this one. I would have preferred a nightmare. I knew better than anyone what was destined to happen here.

It was Dice of the Gods—the adult game my past life had secretly played after work. It barely had a story to speak of, and even its own plot logic was a shambles.

Its female characters were violated by every manner of race and brutally ground underfoot, and the player's role was to savor the sight. In the end, it was nothing more than the usual game built around consuming shock scenes.

And every single tragedy began in this village. Before long the men would become prey for the monsters, and the women dragged off to the beasts' nests and reduced to unspeakable states. I couldn't believe it. I prayed my memory was wrong...

While Grandmother was out of the room, I hauled my staggering body to the lakeshore. I had to see it with my own eyes. Please, let it not be true.

The still water reflected the image of a young girl. Pure white hair. Ink-black eyes. Pointed ears sweeping out long from either side of her face. She was, unmistakably, still a child.

"Haaah... of all things, why an elf?"

A long sigh escaped me before I could stop it.

A race blessed with eternal youth and the favor of the spirits. Beautiful looks and prodigious magical talent. A way of life lived far removed from humankind.

In the original story, being an elf alone was enough to trigger every degrading event imaginable—which meant just as many people coveted elves.

Ending up as some noble's plaything was almost the ordinary outcome. There were bad endings of every flavor: limbs hacked off, dying in childbirth... What on earth was I supposed to do about this? The whole thing felt hopeless.

Come on, this is going too far. Of all the eroge in existence, it had to be that one. And as an elf girl, no less! From start to finish, it's the worst.

No matter how viciously I cursed in my head, the girl in the water only stuck her lip out in a pout. The only thing that left her mouth was a thin, clear voice.

The one mercy was that the name Silvia existed nowhere in the original. Apparently I was an extra without so much as a single line of dialogue. Every named character met a horrific past and an even worse end. Haah...

One hundred years from now, the ancient magic beast known as the Hydra would fall upon this place. The men would become food for the monsters; the women would be dragged into the beast's lair and left in a state too wretched to describe.

The game's opening had waved that atrocity past in a few brief lines of text. For the player, it was a scene erased with a single press of the skip button. For me, it would not be.

"Silvia! Honestly, child! You should still be in bed!"

The baker woman waved me over, her apron flapping. From a distance, the blacksmith's brothers shouted to ask if I was all right. To someone who had never even seen her parents' faces, these people were family in everything but blood.

I wanted to protect them.

"I'm fine! I'll head back in right away!"

The moment I waved and turned away, the smile fell off my face. Over those years that were neither short nor long, I had racked my brain for anything at all I could do.

The problem was how. My talent for magic was mediocre, and my archery ranked dead last among my peers. What could a ten-year-old elf girl possibly do against an ancient magic beast? A hundred years wouldn't be enough.

I clawed at my hair and ransacked my memories. Strategy guides, community forums, lore compendiums. My past self had been the type to obsess over useless details—so this is where that pays off. And then something finally sparked.

A corner of the item encyclopedia—plain text nobody would ever have read. A passage most people would have scrolled straight past, finally recalled. That's it!

"...Maybe it's still alive."

My heart slammed against my ribs. It was a gamble. Even so, it beat sitting quietly and waiting to die. I had to find some way—any way—before the original story arrived. I couldn't let myself die like this.

The northern cliffs were the one place every adult in the village forbade. Ask why, and they only waved the question off. It had always been forbidden, they said; just don't go. Which was exactly why I was certain. It had to be there.

It was the third night after my fever broke.

Without Grandmother noticing, I gathered a lamp and slipped out of the house. Clinging to the hope of finding even one clue. Praying that something—anything—existed that could save them all...

The cave I had struggled to reach was deeper than I'd imagined. Every sweep of the lamplight bared new marks along the walls—claw gouges as tall as an adult's torso. The deeper I went, the heavier the air grew, until even breathing was an effort.

Maybe I should just turn back. Go home now, and no one would ever know. No—I dragged myself all this way, didn't I? Whatever happens, I'm seeing this through.

When I rounded the last corner, the cave opened up without end. I no longer needed the lamp. Light filled the darkness in every direction, as if the black itself were being pierced through.

An enormous body lay coiled in slumber. Starlight seeped out between its deep blue scales. It was stunningly beautiful—like a being draped in an entire galaxy.

The primordial dragon who had existed only as a line of lore. A great guardian whose entire legacy was a snippet of fine print: that he had opposed the gods of the world to defend its order, been gravely wounded, and quietly died.

My legs wobbled. My teeth knocked together. Even getting chewed out by my department head in my past life hadn't been this bad... I clenched my fists and stepped forward—and the gigantic eyes slowly opened.

"...Hmm. To think a guest would find their way to a place like this."

The voice rolled through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entire cavern. The vibration sank deep into my bones. I locked my knees against the urge to collapse and somehow stayed upright. ...Ngh!

"So it was you who broke this old one's slumber. A mere bean of an elf chit. Surely you haven't come sniffing after my treasure?"

Golden eyes peered down at me. Reflected within them, I looked impossibly small. Before that colossal being, I was nothing but an insignificant scrap of life—one his fingertip could crush without a thought.

"Did you make your way here on your own two feet? Or have you simply lost your path? If there is something you desire, take it freely. It is the mercy of this venerable self."

"I came here... to meet you."

The dragon's eyes narrowed at once.

I swallowed hard and waited. The whole situation still felt like a dream. He's not about to fly into a rage... is he?

"Then do you know who this venerable self is?"

"The primordial dragon who fought... the gods."

"...The gods, you say. Wicked gods? Benevolent ones? To whom do you refer?"

"To all of them. You fought every god there was..."

The air froze solid in an instant.

"No soul who remembers the truth of this world should remain upon this land. Where did a child pick up such words? Were you sent here by them?"

'From a game, actually...'—yeah, I can't exactly say that.

My knees wobbled with the urge to bolt, strength draining from my legs. Even so, I didn't look away from the dragon's gaze. Instinct screamed that if I dropped my eyes here, everything ended. I had to hold.

"...I know. I know you were defeated by the gods. And that your death is not far off. Don't you need one? A successor."

After a long silence, the dragon tilted his head. The starlight surged like a wave. The whole cavern rocked, and my body kept swaying with it.

"Ha... haha. Hahahahahaha!"

Stone dust rained down with his laughter. I hunched over, arms wrapped around my head. My vision swam and nausea clawed up my throat. My body and my soul were both screaming the same thing: run. Run from here, now.

"You tremble. Your knees look ready to give way at any moment, and your eyes brim with tears. And yet you meet this venerable self's gaze head-on. Your courage does you credit! What an intriguing little creature you are!"

I pressed my hands tightly together in front of my chest. To smother the shaking. Then one step, and one more, until I stood right before the dragon's snout. His scorching breath whipped my hair in every direction.

"What you couldn't achieve, I will. I'll carry it through to the very end. I will sever the fate of a world the gods toy with for sport. I swear it."

The dragon laughed again—this time a laugh that seemed determined to bring the cavern down. It thundered through the ground beneath my feet as cracks spiderwebbed outward. So this was the strength of a dying dragon. It was, quite simply, staggering.

"Kwahahaha! In that tiny body of yours, you would stand against the very world that even broke this venerable self? Good! I like that gall, you elven brat."

"...I'm ready to give everything I have."

"You will die. Miserably, and without question. Do you understand that?"

"Standing still, I'd end up exactly the same anyway."

"Hahahaha! You are not wrong, little one."

As the laughter subsided, the golden eyes studied me in silence. The pressure bearing down on my whole body made me bite my lip, a briny taste spreading through my mouth. So this was a dragon's trial.

He wanted to see whether I could refuse to kneel to fear. The dragon's massive head descended. Starlight poured off his scales.

"Very well. This life was waiting for its end regardless. Teaching you would be far more entertaining than rotting away in this cave. Hahaha!"

"Then...! You'll give me your power?!"

"Orbis. A dragon of the beginning, born alongside the stars. Engrave it well into memory, little one. Everything this venerable self possesses shall be handed down to you."

"It's Silvia. Please call me by my name."

"Names can be memorized later."

"...Tch! You'd better remember it. Silvia!"

Something flared hot in my chest. That damn lizard geezer. I puffed my cheeks out as far as they would go.

A hundred years passed from that day. The timeline of the original story had finally caught up with me.

Orbis's training was savage in its simplicity. For ten years I sat on the cave floor learning nothing but how to breathe—the method of drawing the world's energy into the lungs, he insisted, and made me drill it whether I liked it or not. It seemed pointless at first, but soon it became second nature, and my body hardened like tempered steel.

Then came the indiscriminate violence. His tail. His claws. His wings. When a bone broke, I lay still until it knit back together, then forced myself up to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be broken again. There were times I genuinely wondered if it would kill me.

"An elf's body is light and soft. So do not brace against the blow—flow. Like the wind. Like water. Only then can you stand against foes mightier than you."

"Easy for you to say! Do you have any idea a rib just popped out of place?! Ngh! Unlike you dragons, elves heal painfully slowly! Is this really right?!"

"You took fewer blows than yesterday, so that is tremendous progress. The time you endure lengthens by small degrees. At this rate, you will soon be of some genuine use."

That damn geezer. I couldn't count the number of times I'd ground my teeth. But never once did I say I'd quit. The original story I had to stand against would be every bit that merciless. I had to overcome it.

For a start, what Orbis taught me was not magic. It was Dragon Martial Arts—fists, feet, and the entire body as living weapons. The art of imbuing oneself with the Power of the Stars and striking with it, raw and direct. It was brutally difficult.

Every time I came back from the cliffs, I was one giant bruise. The villagers clucked their tongues at the sight, and Grandmother spread salve over me without a word.

"Silvia, you went out there again, didn't you?"

"Just a walk, Grandmother. Only a walk. Really!"

"You took a walk and came home with your arm looking like that?!"

"...It was, um, a slightly rough path."

Once elves grow to a certain point, their aging slows to a crawl. Somewhere in those years I shot up in height, and my figure turned distinctly womanly. Word had even spread abroad that a beautiful white-haired elf lived in Luen.

Peddling merchants made a point of detouring through the village just to glimpse me. A nameless NPC from the original, this famous. It was laughable—and lately, honestly, more of a burden than anything.

I couldn't have cared less about being called beautiful. Inside, I was still a middle-aged man. Given the choice between a mirror and swinging my fists, I'd take the fists every time.

Those peaceful days did not last. Orbis's starlight was dimming, slowly, steadily. The hour of parting had come.

I dropped everything and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kept silent vigil at his side. I took in every last moment of the great dragon's passing. Dust in my eyes, I told myself, as the water kept streaming down my cheeks.

"Child. There you are. Come to me."

That was the first time he had ever called me that.

The enormous body heaved with effort. The scales that had glittered lost their light one by one, the way the night sky pales toward dawn. It hurt to watch.

"Accept this venerable self's blood. It will serve you well."

"You're already hurting. Please, just rest."

"It is a gift from your master."

"I'm plenty strong without gifts, thank you very much!"

"Tonight is this venerable self's last. Accept this one thing. It is the final gift a master leaves his disciple. Are you not my successor? Then must you not inherit all that I am?"

"...All right. Just this once."

When he tore open his own scales, blood steeped in starlight welled out. I caught it in both hands and drank. The burning heat raced along my veins to every corner of my body. My bones howled, and my forehead felt ready to split.

Choking down a scream, I clawed at the floor. My forehead seared white-hot, and then something forced its way up through the skin. When I touched it with my fingertips, I felt something hard and curved. A jet-black dragon's horn.

"Haha. It suits you."

Orbis laughed—a great booming laugh, just like the day we first met. But his voice was thin as a breeze. Gritting my teeth against the waves of pain, I strained to catch his words.

"Silvia."

The first time he ever called my name.

"If it is you, you will do it. What even I could not."

"Naturally. I told you I would."

"Yes. You were a truly insolent little brat..."

"You're tired, aren't you? It's all right to sleep now."

Those were his last words.

Before dawn arrived, that colossal form crumbled into powder. It drifted up along the cavern ceiling and melted into the night sky. All that remained was a single scale the size of my palm. Gone, far too easily.

I sat leaning against the headstone and looked up at the sky. The whole village lay spread out below in a single glance. He would have loved it here—I was sure of it. A final, small gift for a dragon who had always yearned for freedom.

I buried his scale here.

Carving and raising the great stone had taken three days on its own. A modest grave, as dragons' graves go, but I did everything within my power. As for flowers, I chose the kind I liked and planted them myself. White ones.

The hem of my clothes swayed over the grass. The fur ornaments wrapped around my wrists and ankles had been made to the seamstress's own taste, stitched with her quiet wish that I stay safe and unharmed.

The day the village first saw my horn, all hell broke loose. Grandmother spent a long while stroking my hair in silence, asking over and over whether it hurt anywhere. I loved that quiet care of hers. It was warm, and it was soft.

"Lovely weather again today, Father."

No answer comes. I ask anyway, even knowing there'll be none—believing he's watching from somewhere out there.

I called up his image, feeling playful.

"Calling you Father feels strange, doesn't it? I never once managed it while you were alive. I held back, because I figured the old geezer would like it far too much."

Urgent footsteps sounded in the distance. A young girl came running across the meadow, gasping for breath, her light-green twin pigtails bouncing with every stride.

"Big Sis Silvia! I knew I'd find you here!"

"Clover! Don't run—you'll trip."

"Ahem! I'm fine! The spirits are with me!"

"Yes, yes. So what brings you all the way out here?"

"The village chief—huff—he says the lake's gone strange! It's been bubbling like it's boiling since this morning, and every single bird has flown off south! Something really bad is coming!"

At last, it had come.

"Got it. Run back and tell the chief right away. Everyone gathers at the village hall, and no one sets foot outside. Understand? This is important."

"What about you, Big Sis? Aren't you coming?"

"I'm going to take a little walk first."

"Eeeeh?! Another walk?!"

"Mm. This one might run a bit long."

Clover stamped her feet in place, then tore off toward the village. I didn't take my eyes off her small figure until it had vanished beyond the tall grass.

I rose. I brushed the petals from my clothes, swept the strands caught on the tip of my horn back into place, and laid a hand on the headstone one final time.

"I'll be off now, Father."

My other father—the primordial dragon, Orbis. I carved that name deep into my chest. Then I strode forward, step by steady step.

Today, I go to destroy the original story—hoping, with everything I have, that everyone might come out of this happy.

With these two fists, I will climb straight over fate itself.