âAncient tree...? Are you referring to the Tree of Life?â
âLegacy of the Swamp Elves. Iâve heard that those are your ancestors.â
âSo, you are talking about the Tree of Life... swamp elves, really, how ancient of a story is that...â
âSo you do know something.â
Findrel, glaring at Ian, added, âIf you swear by the Goddess to release me, Iâll answer you.â
âHmm....â
Ian nodded slightly and murmured.
âIt seems losing one ear wasnât enough.â
âWhat...? To make me talk, at leastââ
Instinctively, Findrel tilted his head to the side as Charlotte reached toward him.
Losing his balance, he fell to the ground, face buried in the dirt, gasping. Blood from his severed ear stained his face.
Ian, who had stopped Charlotte with a slight motion of his fingers holding the cigarette, looked down at him and said, âYou seem to be under a misunderstanding. That only works when youâre the only option. There are plenty of elves. Iâm not in a hurry. But you... well.â
â....â
Before Findrel could say anything, Ian took another puff from the cigarette. Charlotte, seizing the moment, grabbed Findrel by the neck and lifted him. Just as she was about to extend her dagger, Findrel coughed and spoke up.
âI know! I know it well. Iâve even seen the Tree of Life!â
âIs that so...?â Ian smiled. ÆreeÏebnovel.Æom
Charlotte clicked her tongue in disappointment and released his neck. Findrel, kneeling, caught his breath while Ianâs cold voice continued.
âBut itâs hard to believe you know it well.â
â...! No, trulyââ
âIâll be the judge of that. Tell me what you know.â
âLi, like what you have said, the ancient swamp elves are indeed our ancestors. Some who were pushed out by humans broke the curse and remained in the jungle, but most crossed the inner sea and migrated to the South. There, they planted new Trees of Life and rebuilt them. But as you know, the great Tree of Life was burned in the war era. Now, only a few of its descendants remain. But the twilight of magicââ
âHistory is sufficient for now.â
Heâs really spewing out everything he knows.
Ian took another drag of the smoke and added.
âYou seem to know a bit, so let me ask you something else. If a few Trees of Life remain, why are your nobles secretly seeking the seeds? Couldnât they harvest them themselves?â
Charlotte glanced at Ian, looking puzzled about why he was asking this. Findrel was equally confused.
Frowning slightly, Findrel responded.
âI donât understand. Why is a human asking about the Tree of Life, and how do you know that elders are searching for seeds? It doesnât seem like youâre doing this on someoneâs request.â
How do I know? Because Iâve experienced it in the game.
Recalling the seed of the ancient tree buried in the farthest corner of his pocket dimension, Ian nodded his chin.
âThatâs not your concern. Just answer the question.â
âItâs impossible to procure the seeds ourselves.â
Ian, about to gesture again, made Findrel hastily speak. Ian nodded for him to continue.
Findrel, relieved, went on. âThe Trees of Life are still young. They canât bloom or bear fruit. And theyâve stopped growing. So thereâs no way to get the seeds.â
âTheyâve stopped growing?â
âYes. The Trees of Life grow not just on water and sunlight but also on mana. But as you know, this is the twilight of magic for mana. We should be grateful theyâre not withering away. Thatâs why the elders are so desperate.â
Findrelâs gaze seemed to search the air as if recalling a memory.
âIâve heard they once sent a search party to that cursed jungle outside Agel Lan. They must have believed there would be fully grown Trees of Life there. I havenât heard any news since then.â
âThey probably didnât make it back....â Ian murmured, recalling the jungle outside the swamps.
It seemed they never discovered the tree left in the heart of Agel Lan. Indeed, thatâs why the seed ended up in Ianâs possession.
Even Marquis Burchard, who corrupted it, probably didnât know what significance that tree held for the elves. And even if he did, nothing would have changed.
âHow do you know that...?â Findrel asked, tilting his head.
Because Iâve been there.
Ian answered with a snort instead and continued.
âSo, thereâs no way to make the Tree of Life grow. If it were me, Iâd have tried burying a lot of mana stones.â
âIt doesnât absorb through the roots. Even if it did, youâd need an endless supply of mana stones.â
âI see... So, in the end, theyâre not looking for the seeds to plant them.â
Findrelâs shoulders stiffened momentarily. It was only for a brief moment, but Ian didnât miss it.
Taking a deep drag from the half-finished cigarette, Ian smiled. âSince planting new ones wonât make them grow properly. Isnât that right?â
âWell.... I donât know about that. The elders are secretive, rarely sharing knowledge with younger ones like meââ
Ian turned his gaze. Charlotte, looking bored by the conversation, seized the moment and grabbed Findrelâs mouth. Without hesitation, she swung her dagger.
âMmph... ugh...!â
The intact tip of his other ear was also cut off at an angle.
Findrelâs eyes were bloodshot. He was straining his whole body so much that blood started flowing again from the already-stopped bleeding of the first ear.
As the blood trickled down both sides of the elfâs neck, Ian watched him with a detached expression and spoke.
âReally, elves always try to deceive people whenever they get the chance. Remember, Findrel, all you need to speak is your tongue.â
âMmph... mmph...!â
Fear shone in Findrelâs eyes, which had turned a murky green as the darkness deepened. Charlotte loosened her grip on his cheeks. As if waiting for the moment, Findrel spoke quickly.
âI donât know exactly...! If youâre prepared to stop your heart, they said the seed would allow us to be reborn as high elves. Thatâs all I know. The elders never tell us how to use the seeds...!â
âNot enough. Remember more. What does that mean? Donât you already call yourselves high elves?â
âThatâs to distinguish us from those damned demons. Originally, high elves referred to very few elders. Now we just call them elders, but anyway. They live longer and wield greater magic thanks to the Tree of Lifeâs blessing. They can even use the accumulated mana of the Tree of Life, though I donât know how. Itâs a secret passed down only to the successors of the Elder Council... You should be impressed that I even know this much....â
âHmm....â Ian nodded.
This time, Findrelâs words were truthful. His eyes, tone, small gestures, and expressions all indicated honesty.
So I just consumed the elvesâ elixir.
Information Ian didnât know during the game quickly organized itself in his mind. Of course, it wasnât perfect. The exact method was still a blank spot. Only vague phrases remained.
It wasnât a game of puzzles or riddles. It was quite straightforward. So, do I need to stop my heart? And then what?
âWhy are you asking all these questions?â Findrel added then. Looking at Ian with anxious eyes, he continued.
âDo you have the seed of the Tree of Life? Is that it? Are you gathering information to know everything for a trade? Or did you perhaps take it from another elf?â
â....â
Ian said nothing. He simply looked at Findrel with his deeply sunken eyes. Realizing he might have misspoken, Findrel quickly curled his lips.
âThe, the story doesnât matter. If you really have the seed, I can help you. I am the third son of the Aynas family, an Imperial noble, and a member of the Elder Council. Though I chose to become a free knight to achieve my own merits, I am rightfully entitled to respect anywhere in the Empire.â
âNot the familyâs troublemaker?â Ian remarked bluntly.
Findrel shook his head with a short laugh.
âNot at all. If I return to the family, they will welcome me. And if someone with the seed of the Tree of Life accompanies me, they will be even more hospitable. My grandfather would pay any price. I would mediate the trade with my name and honor at stake.â
As Findrel continued speaking, his voice grew more lively. Ian quietly looked at his severed ear. Sensing his gaze, Findrelâs smile deepened.
âDonât worry about this. Itâs just a consequence of my mistakes, a price paid for our rough start. Letâs leave the past in the pastââ
âThe more I hear, the clearer it becomes.â
Finally, Ian spoke. He took another puff from the remaining cigarette and exhaled smoke.
âYou elves, once you know I have the seed, youâll kill to take it. Even if not, you wonât pay a fair price. Youâll try to deceive me, just as youâre lying now.â
âItâs not a lie, really....â
âI know you brought the knights, Findrel.â
â...!â Findrelâs breath stopped for a moment.
Ian spoke in a monotone.
âIf we had lost and been captured, would you have spared us?â
â....â Findrelâs mouth opened and closed like a fish. His already pale face turned nearly white as a lead.
Ian, deeply inhaling the smoke, dropped the shortened cigarette to the ground and added.
âThank you for the information. In return, Iâll make it painless for you.â
âYouâre making a mistake. If I die, my family will know. Youâll be hunted by the elves. They are the best trackers, relentless and never giving up.â
âIâm used to being hunted. And all those who followed you are dead.â
âElves will come of their own accord. Iâm looking forward to it.â Charlotte added, leaving Findrel speechless.
Meanwhile, she looked at Ian. âCanât you give me the chance? I want to finish him myself.â
âBe satisfied with two ears. This guy has a quest on him.â
âI still donât understand that... But if you say so.â
Findrelâs face contorted as he watched the casual conversation between the two.
âYou less than beasts...! So, you humiliated me knowing you would kill me anyway? You, nameless human. I will curse you even in death. And you, I hope you live long.â
Findrel glared at Charlotte with eyes filled with a mix of fear and hatred.
âYour wretched kind will die soon...! Make sure you live to see it all!â
â....â
Charlotteâs smile stiffened for a moment.
Findrelâs lips curled up.
âDo you think we donât know that your disgusting kind secretly worships that forsaken God? No. We know everything! We just let you be! Until enough of you, wretched beasts, serve that monster!â
âWhat... Did you say...?â Charlotteâs voice turned icy.
Findrel laughed aloud.
âYou wonât be able to stop it even if you know. Itâs already too late...! By the time the year changes, a clan with a judge will come to purify your stinking land. What a pity. I was planning to join that hunt after achieving some merit in the outskirts.â
â...Donât lie, you disgusting elf. We are recognized by His Majesty the Emperorââ
âReports about you have already reached His Majesty. Theyâre saying that you, favored by his grace, are worshiping an abandoned God and dreaming of rebellion. Hahaha... judging by your expression, you had no idea. Didnât you even know what your kind back home was up toââ
Charlotte grabbed Findrelâs face, her nails digging deep into his cheeks. Blood trickled down in red streams.
âShut up, unless you want to be torn apart alive.â
Findrel looked up at Charlotte with wide eyes. Soon, a dark shadow fell over his face.
It was Ian, drawing his dagger. âYou seem to have a long and difficult way of saying you want to die painfully.â
The light in Findrelâs eyes faded as soon as they met Ianâs cold gaze. But it was a fleeting moment. Soon, a blue glint appeared in his eyes as he desperately drew upon his mana.
One corner of Ianâs mouth lifted in a smirk. Instead of using a magic backlash or striking with his dagger, he spoke.
âStep back, Charlotte. Five steps or more.â
Charlotte growled but released Findrelâs face and stepped back. Even as he fell sideways, Findrelâs eyes flashed with blue light.
Boomâ
The Frost Wave radiated from him, freezing the surroundings. Ian, raising his left arm to shield his face, was covered in a thin layer of white frost.
Crack.
â...!â
Immediately after, Ian moved his arm as if nothing had happened. He casually brushed the frost off his body with his hand. Findrelâs eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Ian to withstand the spell head-on without any harm.
Ian looked down at him.
"With such a negligible amount of magic that you donât even feel magic exhaustion, you canât inflict any damage on me, Findrel. Is this your trump card? Itâs utterly insignificant."
Ian extended his dagger and drew a long line across Findrelâs neck. A deep red line appeared, quickly bleeding out.
The elfâs blood was as red as a humanâs.
âYou will... regret....â
With those words, mumbled through bloody froth, Findrelâs eyes lost focus.
A quest completion window appeared before Ianâs eyes.
[The Familyâs Troublemaker.]
It was a quest that had appeared when Ian confronted Findrel. There were two different completion conditions: to either bring him alive to his family or kill him. Ian had chosen the latter. He didnât know what consequences this would bring, but he had no regrets.
Even in this reality, elves were an untrustworthy race. A similar situation would have unfolded with any other elf.
âItâs actually⊠more certain now,â Ian murmured as he wiped his dagger on Findrelâs forearm.
It became clear that trading the seed of the ancient tree with elven nobles wouldnât be easy. Even in the game, the quest likely wouldnât have ended beautifully.
âBe prepared to stop your heart....â Ian muttered as he stood up. He looked at Charlotte, who was staring intently at Findrelâs corpse.
"Check again to see if thereâs anything else worth taking. Leave the corpse as it is."
â...Alright.â
Charlotte approached as Ian turned and walked down the hill. She kicked Findrelâs body over and started searching it again.
âIs it all finished, my lord?â Philip whispered from the driverâs seat. The night had fallen completely, and his figure was shrouded in darkness.
Ian shrugged his shoulders and continued walking. Philip added as Ian approached.
âSo, you⊠killed the elf in the end.â
âYes,â Ian replied indifferently as he mounted the horse beside the carriage.
He glanced inside. Philip whispered again.
âShe fell asleep a little while ago.â
Nodding, Ian looked at Mev, deeply buried in the carriage seat. She was sound asleep, breathing quietly.
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It wasnât surprising. Any normal person would have been exhausted long ago from the battles they had fought.
Soon, Charlotte, who had silently climbed back onto her horse, threw something to Ian.
â...?â
Ian caught it and looked down at his hand. It was a silver brooch shaped like a flower. About half the size of his palm. Though he didnât know what flower it was, the intricate craftsmanship was evident.
âIt seems to be the coat of arms of his family,â Charlotte added softly.
Ian nodded. It was just an ornament, but it would fetch some money if sold. And it gave a way to identify the Aynas family.
He placed the brooch in his pocket dimension and looked at Charlotte again.
âDo you have enough stamina left?â
âPlenty. I wonât be able to sleep tonight anyway.â
âGood.â
Ian turned to Philip.
âLetâs move. Weâve lost a lot of time. Weâll travel until dawn.â
Philip silently nodded and urged the horse forward. The carriage started moving slowly. Ian and Charlotte followed behind.
Watching the carriage intently, Charlotte suddenly spoke.
âYou can tell when someoneâs lying, Ian. Right?â
âNot always, but to some extent,â Ian replied casually.
Charlotte looked at him.
âThen let me ask you one thing.â
âGo ahead.â
âThose things he said at the end. Were they lies?â