Chapter 161 - Why So Strong? (5)

“Is that really true?” Magrina asked.

“!”

Perion was astonished.

Magrina, the elven queen, was a benevolent ruler who smiled upon everyone, but she never visibly expressed her personal feelings. That was what it meant to be a monarch: to protect her people and always stand at their forefront. She could never show weakness.

Thus, throughout the hundreds of years she had held the throne, she had never once shown anyone emotions other than benevolence and anger in her subordinates’ presence.

Yet now, for the first time, Magrina—who had upheld that ironclad rule for so long—was showing her subordinates emotions other than joy and anger.

Confusion and hope.

“Please, tell me.”

At Magrina’s urging, Pilde broke the silence.

“First, let me reiterate, Your Majesty: what I am telling you is conjecture.”

“But you believe that marquis is the primordial elf—my elder brother?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me why.”

Anxiety colored her insistence.

Pilde recounted everything that had happened at the Pallatio estate, one event at a time: how the two of them had used magic outside the estate to observe the marquis, how Pilde had secretly examined Marquis Pallatio’s soul with spirit sight, and finally, the black eyes.

“... Whew.”

Having finished the account, Pilde paused to catch a breath, then summarized the key points.

“To sum up, Marquis Pallatio’s soul did not match his body. In other words, someone else is inside Marquis Pallatio’s body.”

“...”

“As you know, Your Majesty, it makes no sense for a mere human to possess such a golden soul. Even a benevolent ruler cannot become a god, nor can a hero.”

Pilde looked steadily at the queen.

“... That is why I concluded that Marquis Pallatio might be the primordial elf.”

“Then the reason my brother cannot return—”

“As I mentioned, something strange is attached to the person we currently believe to be the primordial elf.”

Pilde involuntarily gagged, as though the memory alone brought on nausea, but quickly regained composure.

“I could not examine it to the end, but from what I could tell, that strange thing and he were intertwined.”

“Intertwined?”

“Yes. So intricately and chaotically that they could never be separated. I suspect that may be why the primordial elf cannot come here.”

Magrina fell silent. The skin around her eyes trembled as it never had before. A mingling of hope and confusion took over her gaze.

“Then—”

With her head bowed and her lip caught between her teeth, she spoke.

“Couldn’t he at least have told me?”

“...”

Her voice was thick with tears.

“That he had returned, that he was alive...! Couldn’t he... at least have told me that?”

How long had she searched for him? How long had she waited?

Pilde answered her murmur.

“I wondered about that as well, but I suspect it may be due to a ‘restriction.’”

“A restriction?”

Pilde nodded.

“This, too, is pure conjecture, but as you know, Your Majesty, it is clearly unnatural for the soul of the dead to take over a living person’s body. It is something that should never happen. The souls of the dead distort the ‘laws of humanity.’”

“Please, continue.”

“I believe the primordial elf may have entered into a contract with that strange being, one that includes a ‘restriction.’ Their souls truly are that deeply entangled. And that restriction is probably something along the lines of not becoming involved with anyone connected to his previous life.”

“Why would there be such a restriction?”

This time, even Pilde shook their head.

“That, I cannot guess. I only inferred it from the fact that he had the blessing delivered through someone else, seemingly to avoid becoming involved with us as much as possible.”

“...”

“Let me reiterate: this is nothing more than my own conjecture. I have no idea what the truth may be. Nevertheless, the reason I am telling you this is—”

Pilde glanced at Perion, and he stepped forward, having remained silent until now.

“Your Majesty, may I explain the rest?”

“Go ahead.”

“... Marquis Pallatio uses ‘phrases’ and ‘sentences.’”

“That means—!”

“... That he is a Magus, like the primordial elf. Furthermore, my personal investigation into him revealed that he has been accomplishing feats no mere human could ever achieve.”

Perion chose his words for a moment before adding,

“He already dealt with two Outer Gods some time ago, as well as numerous artificial Outer Gods—and I hear he recently dealt with an abomination as well. A mere human... accomplished all of that.”

“...”

“That is why we suspect he is the primordial elf.”

Perion finished, but the queen remained silent. Her heart pounded fiercely.

Memories from hundreds of years ago replayed in Magrina’s mind—memories she could never lose.

[“You’re the only one.”]

[“You must do this.”]

[“You must lead the elves well.”]

[“I’m counting on you.”]

Her brother’s face, smiling as he stroked her head, even though he knew his death was coming.

After a long silence, the queen spoke.

“... Perion.”

“Yes.”

“Make preparations.”

“... Pardon?”

“I must meet him myself. I must meet him and confirm whether he truly is my brother.”

She looked at Perion with eyes full of resolve.

####

In the end, with Elivan’s help, Alon cleared the Ironblood Citadel without suffering any harm.

“Is this what you need?”

“Yes, it is.”

“It’s yours.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

He also obtained the item he wanted. He wondered whether it was all right to receive it so easily, but he had no reason to refuse.

Alon accepted the object Elivan held out with a broad smile. It was an objet d’art obtained from the Ironblood Citadel—or, more precisely, an artifact masquerading as one.

‘The Foot That Runs Through the Past.’

Examining the object, forged from ink-dark steel in the shape of a foot pushing off the ground to run, Alon addressed Elivan.

“... Thank you.”

“Oh, not at all! You came to help at my request, after all, my lord! Is there anything else you need?”

Alon shook his head. There was nothing he needed in the Ironblood Citadel other than this Night That Runs Through the Past. Most of its drops were warrior weapons, and even the few mage weapons were of little use to him.

“No, this is enough.”

Alon carefully put away the ‘Night That Runs Through the Past.’

Before long, the open Monster Gate began to slowly disappear. After watching it together, Alon and the others traveled to the nearest domain, that of the ducal House Xenonia.

By the time they arrived, evening was approaching.

“Until next time.”

“Yes! May I ask you again if I need help?”

“Of course. As long as it isn’t too unreasonable, I’ll oblige.”

“Thank you!”

Elivan bowed deeply, then headed into the domain with his companions.

“My lord.”

“What is it?”

“Um... Something has felt strange for a while now. May I mention it?”

“Speak.”

Once they were alone, Evan spoke as though he had been waiting for the chance.

“I’ve been thinking—that fellow Elivan came to ask for help because he thought it would be dangerous, didn’t he?”

“He did, didn’t he?”

“... But if he was hiding that much strength, doesn’t it make no sense for him to have gone out of his way to ask you for help?”

“True.”

In fact, Alon had also sensed the inconsistency Evan had pointed out. Something about Elivan’s words did not quite add up.

Questions lurking behind his indifferent expression, Alon gazed in the direction Elivan had gone.

‘What in the world is going on?’

He continued thinking, keeping several possibilities open. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind, and he picked out only those that seemed reasonably plausible.

Three hypotheses remained: Elivan had brought him here for some purpose, had intended to harm him, or... had been asked to do so by someone else.

But Alon soon shook his head. First of all, Elivan did not seem to have intended to harm him. If that had been his intention from the start, he had had ample opportunities both before they entered the Monster Gate and inside it.

‘... If anything, he was overprotective.’

His behavior in the Ironblood Citadel could hardly be considered malicious.

‘... Then that leaves either bringing me here for some purpose or doing it at someone else’s request...’

Naturally, nothing in particular pointed to either possibility. Had Alon suffered any sort of harm, he could at least have used that as a basis for speculation. Instead, he had obtained what he needed effortlessly and lost nothing at all.

And so—

“... What could it be?”

[“Kyuu?”]

As Alon stroked Blackie’s head—the creature had popped out before he knew it—his bewilderment only deepened.

####

“Elivan.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“... Why did you hide it all this time?”

At an inn in the Xenonia domain, Elivan turned toward Yan at the sound of her hesitant voice.

“Hm? Hide what?”

“... Your strength.”

“Ah...”

He scratched his cheek, looking a little awkward.

“Sorry? I was planning to tell you eventually, but I thought it was still too soon.”

Elivan answered with a smile, but Yan’s expression did not soften.

“... If you had that much power, couldn’t you have helped us last time? And the time before that?”

It was only natural for her to feel that way. Elivan’s party had narrowly escaped death time and again.

“When Ralph was about to be crushed to death under that Giant Wood, and when that witch nearly sucked out my soul—you never once showed that kind of strength, did you?”

She was not angry simply because Elivan had concealed his strength. Despite possessing such power, he had not used it when his party members’ lives were at risk.

That was tantamount to saying that, to him, his companions’ deaths were not important enough to reveal his strength.

“But Marquis Pallatio—”

Yan’s brow furrowed further. To her, the threat Marquis Pallatio had faced had seemed far less dangerous than the brushes with death his companions had survived.

Yet Elivan had broken his secrecy without hesitation—the very secret he had kept even when his companions’ lives were at stake.

Elivan himself, however, remained calm.

“... Yan, I know what you’re trying to say.”

“Then—!”

“But I can’t help it. How should I put it... It’s something like a ‘habit.’”

“... A ha... bit?”

“Yes. I’m not lying. It really is a ‘habit.’”

His tranquil blue eyes gleaming softly, Elivan stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“And in time, you’ll understand too.”

“... Understand what?”

“Why I did that.”

He delivered each word with deliberate emphasis.