Chapter 182. The Throbbing Heart of Sisli, the Elves' Hometown
Sisli's nature remained unstained by the grime of the world. Only elves resided in Sisli. In the era blessed by the World Tree, elves were perfect beings who needed nothing. Thus, Sisli's flowers, trees, and fruits always exuded a rich fragrance.
'A level uncannily barbaric continent-dwellers couldn't even dream of glimpsing.'
It wasn't for nothing that they boasted whenever mentioning Sisli.
So Elcidoir couldn't easily accept the situation.
Merely four days.
How could these paltry flowers...
Exude an aura akin to Sisli's blooms, nurtured over eons?
Elcidoir's expression darkened sharply.
'What have you done?'
Lee Hoyeol.
For the deed of such an arrogant human...
He had only watered the flowers in his haughty stance.
If one more reason had to be named...
—"No masterpiece could rival your hues."
He had spoken to the flowers.
At the time, it seemed like nonsense.
Elcidoir flinched.
'...Could even that have had purpose?'
Reason be damned.
Elcidoir's face twisted further.
He could no longer boast of Sisli.
Just as his patched-together pride began cracking anew.
A voice came from behind.
"Elcidoir."
"...!"
The arrogant human, Hoyeol's voice.
Clack—
Silence.
Elcidoir clamped his mouth shut first.
Better than spewing ill words.
Yes or no.
The humiliation of forced answers was shame enough once.
"What say you of them?"
"...".
Receiving no reply, Hoyeol addressed the flowers.
"I thank you all for growing so well."
Then he turned back to Elcidoir.
"'Tis thanks to thy tender care that they bear fruit."
"...?"
...What did he just say?
That this growth was due to my care?
Elcidoir pondered gravely.
'Blessings weren't enough.'
Has Mother stolen my hearing too?
But he hadn't misheard.
Hoyeol had spoken clearly.
"I know of thy labors, Elcidoir."
Tonight, I shall remain in the flower garden.
At Hoyeol's following words, Elcidoir returned to his annex.
He should have slammed the door in irritation as always.
...Thud.
Lost in thought, Elcidoir failed to.
Labors? What have I even done?
Puzzled, Elcidoir reviewed the past four days.
"Sneering they'd look laughable, pitiful..."
Bragging they paled against Sisli.
All he'd done was grumble...
In his anguish, Elcidoir flinched.
"No way."
The magic circle?
Mana and magic were distinct.
Even Elcidoir, born with vast mana as an elf.
Deciphering magic—human-made magic circles at that—was impossible.
Thus, Elcidoir could only misconstrue.
"Just because it lit the garden?"
A high-tier healing magic circle guzzling immense mana.
To Elcidoir, akin to basic light magic.
It barely registered on his mana reserves.
"I see."
Did I play a major role?
True, he'd chased off pesky insects.
Soon, Elcidoir's face returned to normal.
His nose held high once more.
"Of course. Trifling humans couldn't manage it."
Guarding the garden all night—easy feat?
Unlike frail humans, elves needed no sleep.
No distraction from drowsiness or fatigue.
Elcidoir chuckled.
"At least he knows gratitude."
If grateful...
Next time, hand over that 'pride' of yours.
Then I could reclaim Mother's blessing.
Thump-thump—
Elcidoir lay on the bed, heart fluttering.
"Remember this: only I can guard the garden."
Was it his crooked nature?
Somehow, with a gravely misguided vow...
*
Early morning.
Yusra Kingdom.
I was still awake.
From dawn, proclaiming solemnly.
"Thy sacrifices shall not be forgotten."
...Don't play cool spitting lines like that, Grandfell.
It's not some epic drama for snapping a few spirit herbs!
Indeed.
After banishing Elcidoir to the annex, I'd scoured the spirit herb field.
To select 'spiritual medicines' amid the lush growth.
Spiritual Medicine (靈藥).
Given their legendary effects.
[Epic]-grade items, precious rarities.
Without an eye for it, distinguishing from regular spirit herbs would be tough.
Players treated spirit herbs as weeds anyway.
Undervalued.
But not for me, versed in all Arcana Continent flora.
As seen, I'd plucked armfuls worthy of the name and returned to my office...!
'What would I have done without High El?'
Water blessed by the unique spirit High El.
Rewards for rigidly sprinkling from the watering can.
No—beyond reward.
An unimaginable harvest.
'I figured one would be fortunate.'
Three millennial frostflowers, exuding icy chill.
Two sunflowers pulsing with heat, oppositely.
Rare spiritual medicines vanished from Arcana lay five on my desk.
'Not all toil in vain, then.'
Blind faith in High El's blessing alone wouldn't suffice.
Cultivation methods played a role too.
Worth the endless struggle.
And finally.
"I trust thou hast learned the value of labor."
Even Elcidoir, with his tumbling talents.
Above all, exploiting him well.
Word was he'd regained his smile.
Yes, smiles suit him far better than scowls.
Makes me feel I've done a good deed too.
'Feels overly kind, but...'
Good results, so I'll overlook it this once.
I.
'No time for grudges.'
Arcana time flows several times faster than reality.
Even now, Antonium endures assaults.
I seized a spiritual medicine.
Ways to consume them abounded.
But paramount: the body's state to receive effects.
'Honestly daunting.'
Two with opposing effects.
Consume simultaneously to neutralize side effects, I'd declared boldly.
Yet with them in hand, worries lingered.
'Can I withstand the spiritual medicines' effects?'
My palpitating heart.
And frail vessel.
In that vein, best preparations made.
Name: Grandfell Claudi Arpeus Romeo
Title: The Last Adventurer, Noble, Transcendent
Class: Demon Hunter
Level: 595
Points Available: 45
Experience from Quirnburk Mechanical Tower absorbed.
Level rose 45 thanks to that.
Likely midway destruction's fault.
'One more debt to Segwin.'
My precious experience...!
Above all, circles marked mage transcendence.
To unleash, expand the mage's vessel.
It'd help somewhat.
Invested all level-up points in magic.
[Magic: 512]
Thus ended preparations possible now.
Remained: consume spiritual medicine.
Pray side effects mild.
Consumption methods varied, yet.
Irrelevant.
For I, Grandfell, choice ever constant.
Click—
Yes.
I floated petals in the teapot.
Tea time, needless to say.
*
Sching—
The valiant lion's sword cleaved air.
Sweat-matted hair.
Even honed flesh screamed.
Swish—
The lion spared his body no respite.
Reason simple: only thus could he endure.
Grip—
Harcon gripped his sword tighter.
'Fie on my impure doubt.'
Smoke rose over the capital, Antonium.
Past news had led Harcon to worst assumptions.
Perhaps Antonium already fallen.
Yet misjudgment.
"Thou hast grown, Your Majesty."
Sching—
Perchance I'd overestimated myself.
That without me, His Majesty couldn't hold.
Impiously underestimated my liege.
Thus Antonium stood unbowed.
Enduring myriad demon assaults.
Yes, with Demon King Struggle void now.
Empire's chance to rise and counter.
Harcon's gaze soon grew heavy.
'I pray ye know thy atrocities.'
Rebellion under demon attack pretext.
Advancing on Antonium, they'd witnessed.
Empire's people groaning in agony.
Yet ignored them, fixated on Antonium.
Only the crown in sight, reins pulled taut.
That shocking news brought by Hoyeol.
"...As Empire Knight Captain, shame consumes me."
Adventurers' world apart from Arcana.
Yet as if his own realm overrun by beasts.
Risking life, burning pride, facing demons head-on—Sir Hoyeol witnessed their disgrace.
Swaaaaah!
"'Tis shame I cannot lift my head!"
Whoooosh!
Fierce sword wind mirrored Harcon's heart.
Grind—
Teeth ground involuntarily.
"...How could they, milord."
Even I weary of human pettiness.
Yet beholding their ugliest visage.
How couldst thou...
—"Wilt thou trust in me?"
Speak thus?
As Knight Captain, Harcon had seen myriad powerhouses.
Child of Lightning, Witch of the Southern Sea, Urs, Warrior of Dawn....
And Sword Saint Segwin besieging Antonium, unexcluded.
Yes.
Their might beyond his ken.
Thus couldn't directly compare Hoyeol to them.
Yet.
'Sir differs from them.'
Ascended too high?
Continent's powerhouses scorned all.
But Hoyeol differed.
Frost's image of him etched vividly in Harcon's memory.
That noble sight: gathering commoners' corpses before a Demon King.
'To sir, all lives equally precious.'
Harcon questioned himself.
'Can I equate liege and stranger's lives?'
Answer: 'No.'
Yet Hoyeol brooked no compromise.
Hadn't the Demon King Struggle shown?
—"We shall suffer not a single sacrifice."
Words made reality by Hoyeol.
Yet Harcon knew.
Ultimately, impossible feat realized by Hoyeol alone.
Entering rift solo, facing upper Demon King solo.
Reckless plan succeeded.
Harcon murmured lowly.
"Yet in all, sir never included thyself."
Harcon couldn't forget.
That day: Hoyeol collapsing upright.
Recalled Nam Taemin's words.
—"You may not know, but in our world, Hoyeol is a symbol of peace. If he falters, the world does."
For the world.
Thus stood rigidly even unconscious.
But that day taught all.
Sir merely hid it.
"Dost thou know, sir?"
After thy rest decision.
We all rested not a moment.
To share thy heavy pride's burden.
Thus Harcon steeled resolve.
'Thou saidst so; as ever, I trust thee.'
Thou'lt bring me to liege's side, I believe.
What I can do: clash swords, bar Segwin.
How this old man fares 'gainst Sword Saint, unknown...
Hummm—
Harcon's sword aura glowed softly.
"This life aflame if need be, I'll hold."
Dost thou not know?
On death's edge, sword intent deepens.
From now, every heartbeat on the line.
The lion's heart, unyielding before any.
*
Pride hid naught.
Relaying Antonium's plight to Harcon.
—"Wilt thou trust in me?"
Uttering that at end.
Darkness veiled my sight.
No, does posturing suffice, really!
No choice.
Until then, I'd scarce dared imagine.
With [Omniscient] effect lost, no way to access Arcana known.
Thus, inevitable flinch here.
Grandfell knew no humility. Underestimation met proof. Overestimation bent to reality.
Words bore fruit.
...My self-overestimation became reality.
I slowly opened my eyes.
How long shut?
Shattered teacup on floor alone.
Told of agony endured by heaven's Grandfell.
Yet not futile.
Amid myriad floating messages.
It rang clear.
...Thump!
My heartbeat.
Transcendent's effect triggers.