Once upon a time, there was a peculiar stalemate on the battlefield with the emergence of the Hero Party. Contrary to popular belief, the Hero Party hadn’t immediately assassinated the Seven Dragons.
At that time, the Hero Party was known externally as the “High-Value Target Rapid Strike Unit.” They were primarily referred to as such by the demons.
During that time, they assassinated the high-value targets of the demon army, namely field commanders, to settle scores, gather intel on the location of the Seven Dragons, and mitigate the threat posed by the demon army.
The key figures at that time were, of course, Ivan and the Cleanup Unit, Enrique, and Veolgrin.
“Do you have any new information?”
“Other than the fact that I’m ten times older than you? Well, it seems not.”
Veolgrin chuckled and lowered his hand. The orc in his grasp dribbled saliva and collapsed to the ground.
Ivan looked up at the sky, calculating the position of the moon amidst the thick clouds. It was a time when he wasn’t yet accustomed to calculating time in seconds.
Anyway, he realized there was still some time left before moving for the next operation. Ivan sat down amidst the half-collapsed camp and quietly chewed on a nutrition bar.
“Is it tasty?”
“Is taste important?”
“Well, it is. Don’t forget about small pleasures. Vigilance. The most fearful thing in the darkness is not the enemy but forgetfulness.”
Forgetfulness about things that bring joy, things that are important, things that are precious.
Ivan blinked at the elf’s words. Wizards had a habit of twisting even simple words, and even elderly wizards exhibited this symptom severely.
By the time one reached the status of an elderly elf wizard, it became difficult to engage in everyday conversation.
“Give me one too.”
“Aren’t you going to spit it out?”
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64ce79d606107d003c23ea27", id: "pf-5140-1"})“It’s a piece of wood that you cherish. Do you think I’d do that?”
Veolgrin took a nutrition bar from Ivan’s hand and waved his hand over it. Purple magic sparkled and dispersed.
Between his fingers, each moved as if possessing a different will. Soon, a strange shape adorned the nutrition bar, then it vanished.
“Alright, have it back.”
“…What did you do?”
“I showed kindness.”
Ivan chewed on the nutrition bar without saying a word. After a bite, he paused for a moment.
It was warm. Despite being in an enemy territory where one couldn’t make a fire, it was appropriately warm. The pig fat inside had partially melted, making it smooth to chew, and the grains had softened.
As Ivan silently munched on the nutrition bar, Veolgrin, who had been watching the scene with satisfaction, spoke up suddenly.
“Don’t hate elves too much.”
“…”
As Ivan averted his gaze, Veolgrin smiled and shifted his gaze to the sky.
“They’re not all that bad. Admit it, don’t hate them too much.”
“I don’t hate them.”
“Is that so? That’s good.”
The elderly elf in front of them was inscrutable. He always wore a faint smile on his face.
These long-lived folks who always retained the appearance of youth were even more elusive because of it. It was difficult to discern their true feelings, and those who could understand others’ intentions on such matters were as rare as finding the palm of one’s hand.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "64cc9e79c7059f003e4ad4b0", id: "pf-5109-1"})Ivan shook his head and looked away. From beyond the clouds, there came a thud, followed by another.
It was the rumble of airborne battleships. Beyond the dark clouds, flashes of red light flickered.
“An individual cannot represent an entire race.”
“…What?”
“That’s why we’re essentially at war with the demons. The will of the Demon King represents entire races.”
Thud, crash. The rumble of airborne battleships drew nearer.
The front line was advancing. The demons who had lost their command were scattering.
Under the dark night sky, amidst the red-tinted saturation, Veolgrin chuckled softly.
“So, regardless of whether some elves are arrogant or wicked, don’t hate the entire race. We should strive to be better people at least.”
“…I’ll bear that in mind.”
“Well, you can say that after the war is over.”
Veolgrin shrugged his shoulders. There was a certain conviction in his expression. Ivan, watching him, suddenly asked.
“When do you think the war will end?”
“This war will probably end in ten years.”
Looking back now, the Demon King died at that time, roughly ten years and a few months later, at the hands of the heroes.
“What happens after that, well…”
Afterward, Veolgrin continued to prepare for war. Even after the Demon King’s death. Even amid the peace that finally came, amidst his kin who ridiculed his claims.
window.pubfuturetag = window.pubfuturetag || [];window.pubfuturetag.push({unit: "663633fa8ebf7442f0652b33", id: "pf-8817-1"})He was the most enigmatic elf Ivan had ever encountered. He was the most human-friendly elf, the most secretive, and also, the strongest.
Humans didn’t like him, and elves mocked him as insane.
Yet, he smiled, nodding quietly as he pursued what he believed in.
In elven history, it might have been akin to a miracle for the individual regarded as the most powerful mage to be friendly toward humans. Especially during the time when the Demon King had arisen.
“An individual cannot represent an entire race…”
That was wrong.
When Ivan reflected on Veolgrin’s words, he couldn’t help but disagree. Most elves were a tribe that he found difficult to attach any affection to, but because of the minority of elves who were not like that, Ivan couldn’t bring himself to hate the entire race.
During that time, Veolgrin undoubtedly represented the elves.
Ep. 165. Racists
“So, they say racial discrimination should be banned by international law.”
“Oh.”
“Dividing people by nation or ethnicity is an outdated habit. It’s not like every Crystallofian fights bears and chugs down potato vodka until they die, chewing on garbage scraps every day, right?”
“At least I know what you think of Krasilovian now.”
Ivan nodded at Elphiera’s words. Sadly, they were hard to deny.
“No, that’s not the point! Look, elves are superior in terms of ear length, lifespan, knowledge, culture, and moral and social norms. It doesn’t necessarily mean that humans are primitive, you know?”
“I suppose so.”
“So, instead of discriminating based on race, I think everyone should unite as one heart and one mind as part of the United Kingdom… um, like a combined family.”
“So what are you trying to say?”
Elphiera hesitated for a moment before turning her head.
Beyond the blue sky, clouds drifted low. The hull swayed gently with each gust of wind.
“Hero parties should set an example for everyone, right…?”
“Hmm.”
“So, I was thinking, wouldn’t it be a good idea for them to be the first to abolish the habit of racial discrimination? Like, by forming combined families or something.”
“I think it’s better to consult with Veolgrin about that.”
“Why does dad always have to come into this!!”
Why are you consulting with him about that then?
Having already given up on understanding these kids, Ivan turned his head to think more rationally and sensibly.
The mainland stretched far beneath his feet. Beyond snow-covered forests, green meadows appeared. Smoke rose from small villages, scattered like toys.
The fields of Tylesse in the north lay spread out before them. Ivan was calculating the speed of the ship by observing the long trail left by the railway passing below.
The airborne battleship was currently floating in the skies above Tylesse.
“Don’t worry. We won’t be visible from below.”
Elphiera chuckled, puffing out her chest.
“A perfect invisibility battleship! We’ve applied a thick optical camouflage spell underneath the bow! Although the maintenance costs are very high…”
“Are there more ships like this one?”
“Hmm. I suppose each of the Council of Ministers probably has one?”
The ship Ivan was stepping on belonged to the Greencos family.
Each noble elf family usually had its own fleet, but families that could own airborne battleships were limited in number. Furthermore, among those, the families with the ability to use optical camouflage on airborne battleships were extremely rare. That was fortunate.
With just five of these ships, most countries would collapse without being able to resist. The concept of air supremacy was still rare in the early modern human world, but not for the elves.
These clans possessed the most powerful fleets and dominated both sea and sky routes.
Ivan looked at the drifting clouds and pondered.
“Is it certain that Veolgrin is in Kalion?”
The last time they met, he was clearly tracking Alexander.
But if Alexander was hiding in Kalion… could Veolgrin really miss him? Was that possible?
While it was uncertain who among the elves supported Alexander, could his position really be so significant that it would hide him from Veolgrin?
It was unlikely. Even though Elizaveta had exaggerated his position, her words were not completely wrong even when considering them rationally.
Alexander was a failure. He lost his royal authority, all his attempts at rebellion were thwarted in advance, and he lost his support base within the country.
All his attempts to seek refuge abroad were the same. Despite mobilizing more than half of the Tylesse forces, he failed to seize the throne.
The elves’ patience was not deep enough to embrace such a loser.
So, if Alexander was truly hiding in Kalion, there were only two possibilities.
“Either Veolgrin is not in Kalion.”
Or, Veolgrin has condoned Alexander.
If we assume the latter, how should we respond?
With a bitter expression, Ivan looked toward the distant horizon to the east.
*
