Chapter 192 - Stature (3)

To be honest, Alon did not know exactly what was happening either. He could only make rough guesses about how the situation was unfolding. He did not truly understand it.

For instance, he had no idea where each of the five divine statures he had seen during contemplation had come from. His only guess was that the blue sphere, which gave off a strange crackling sensation, might be the divine stature of Kalanon, the Receiver of Lightning. The origins of the others were unknown to him.

Likewise, he had chosen the green divine stature simply because, unlike the other spheres, it had pulsed as though asking him to choose it. That was why he had reached toward it. At the time, he had no way of knowing exactly where it had come from.

Seeing sprouts grow the moment his hand, cloaked in green divine stature, touched the writing had given him a vague sense that this stature was connected to Greinif. But that, too, had ultimately been conjecture.

Yes, it had been nothing more than conjecture—until he saw the elves' reactions.

"..."

The elves led the way up through the Root, escorting Alon. He studied their faces with a peculiar expression.

Those faces had been full of tension and irritation even as they descended into the depths. Yet those emotions had vanished like a mirage. In their place, every face brimmed with pride—unmistakable pride in serving a great being, the "primordial elf."

"..."

Alon found it deeply uncomfortable. Naturally, he was not the primordial elf.

No, more than that, he did not know the first thing about the primordial elf—not what sort of being they were, nor even their name.

... Though he thought he understood why the elves were mistaken.

'It's probably because of the power I used.'

The green divine stature. The power that had blanketed the space in burgeoning green life in an instant.

Only now was it becoming clear. That must be the primordial elf's divine stature. It was perfectly reasonable for the elves to mistake him for that being.

Moreover, Alon looked around. Sprouts that had begun beneath the Root were gradually breathing life even into the shriveled roots. If he witnessed this miracle firsthand—

'Even I would act like these elves.'

The elves radiated pride with their entire bodies, as though escorting someone exalted. Their faces shone with a mixture of overwhelming emotion, joy, and resolve. But that was precisely what made Alon uncomfortable.

Everything was flowing together as naturally as water, yet in the end, all of it had begun with a misunderstanding.

'What in the world...?'

For reasons he did not understand, a rumor that Alon was the primordial elf had spread among the higher-ranking elves. That misconception had gathered faith, allowing the green divine stature to form.

Then today, Alon had used that divine stature and performed a miracle. Now, countless elves believed him to be the primordial elf.

In other words, using divine stature gathered through a misunderstanding had made them mistake him all the more firmly for a real god.

At the bizarre situation, even Alon's normally unchanging face twitched slightly.

"Primordial—no, my lord. Is something troubling you?"

Apparently noticing, Rim immediately asked.

"..."

In truth, she made Alon the most uncomfortable of all. Even when they entered the Root, Rim had maintained an icy expression throughout and answered even his casual questions curtly.

He had understood perfectly well that an annoying duty had been foisted on her, so her prickliness had not particularly bothered him.

But now...

"... No, I'm fine."

"Please tell me immediately if anything troubles you! Primordial—no, my lord. Thanks to you, we can now use mana even inside the Root...!"

She called him by the bizarre title "Primordial—no, my lord," smiling brightly with a face brimming with duty and pride. Faced with her sudden transformation(?), Alon fell silent.

"..."

At last, all he could do was nod, somewhat awkwardly.

"All... right."

####

"My lord."

"Go ahead."

"What am I supposed to do when you come back as an actual god?"

"... It wasn't by choice."

"You can become a god without wanting to?"

Well—

"So it seems."

Apparently, you could.

"So you can become a god even if you don't want to..."

"... But why bring that up all of a sudden?"

Two hours had already passed since his return from the Root. Having been told that the queen was in a meeting, Alon was resting when Evan brought news from outside. He had not accompanied Alon into the Root and had spent the entire day doing nothing.

"It's absolute chaos outside right now."

"?"

"Everyone's talking about how you really were the primordial elf."

"... Wasn't that rumor already going around?"

"No, I mean, before, it was just a rumor. Now everyone's buzzing about how it's true."

"Don't elves believe rumors a little too readily?"

"From what I heard, the Black Leaves... was that the name? Someone's been going around eagerly telling everyone."

"Ah..."

As Alon groaned, Evan watched him quietly before speaking.

"My lord."

"What?"

"I'm only asking just in case, but are you actually the primordial elf or whatever? Something along those lines?"

"What do you mean, 'something along those lines'?"

"Well, did you reincarnate, for example, or possess someone? Something like that—"

Alon considered Evan's question for a moment. He could simply say no, but something about lying made him reluctant. After some hesitation, he answered.

"At least, I don't think I've ever been the primordial elf."

"Well... I suppose not."

Evan drew out his words. Alon let out a quiet sigh and thought. In truth, there were plenty of things besides the rumors that required his attention.

'The being in the mirror, the fruit the old tree gave me, the Greed Mother...'

He had learned how to use divine stature, but had gained three new questions in the process.

'Would the queen know anything if I asked her?'

As Alon pondered this for a moment:

KNOCK KNOCK!

"Primordial—no, my lord. The queen has requested your presence."

At that strange(?) form of address once again, Alon rose, still unable to shake his awkwardness.

"... I'll be right out."

####

"Your Majesty, do you think this makes any sense!? Surely you know how dangerous it is to send someone who has yet to be properly verified down into the Root like this!"

"Lord Paloel, wasn't this matter settled long ago?"

"I'm talking about what happens from here on! Even if Master Pilde has vouched for him, isn't that ultimately conjecture?"

Voices reached Alon as soon as he approached the audience chamber.

'... They're talking about me.'

Before he could even feel embarrassed by the elderly man's unmistakably impassioned voice, Rim strode up to the door without hesitation, as though utterly unconcerned, and announced his arrival.

"Your Majesty, Marquis Pallatio is here."

"Come in."

After a brief silence, the door opened and an elderly elf walked out.

With long white hair reaching his waist and anger radiating from his entire body, he glanced once at the expressionless Rim before turning his gaze to Alon.

"..."

Their eyes met briefly. For a moment, the old elf subjected him to a stare filled with undisguised hostility.

"... Tsk."

The elf clicked his tongue, turned away, and brushed past Alon.

"I'm sorry. The meeting ran rather late. ... Someone wouldn't let me go even after it ended."

The queen's voice followed. Alon shook his head.

"It's fine. I wasn't waiting long."

"So, how was it inside? The meeting only just ended, so I haven't heard the details yet. If you don't mind, could you tell me exactly what happened in the Root?"

At Magrida's request, Alon was silent for a moment before nodding. He had questions to ask her anyway.

####

Paloel, chairman of the Council of Elders, was displeased with the situation. He belonged to the council, currently composed of ten members, whose power was second only to the queen's.

The reason for his displeasure was the rumor that Marquis Pallatio was the primordial elf.

'A mere human...'

Paloel scowled. How dare a mere human be the primordial elf? Even if the claim had come from the queen and that outstanding mage, Pilde, it was not welcome.

... No, in truth:

'Damn it!'

What bothered him was the primordial elf's appearance itself.

That meant the elves' power structure could change to resemble that of the lizardmen. In turn, it could affect his own power.

Thus, when Paloel returned to the Council of Elders' office in the palace:

"Lord Paloel! A moment—"

"Enough! I have somewhere to go immediately. We can talk later."

"Well—it's about the rumors from the Root this time—"

"I'll hear it later."

He readily dismissed the elf who had hurried over to report, then headed straight elsewhere.

His destination was the Pagade office, where Rim would be. Paloel knew that she was none too pleased with the current situation.

Of course, her displeasure was closer to genuine dissatisfaction than to his own fear of losing power. But that hardly mattered. All they needed was to want the same thing: to push out this suddenly appeared "primordial elf," whose authenticity was not even certain.

Besides, hadn't Rim accompanied him into the Root this time? She might have found a pretext there for ousting the man. With that hope, Paloel entered the office.

"... Lord Paloel?"

"Rim."

He found himself facing her, her expression questioning—and somehow tinged with hostility.

'... Hostility?'

Paloel was puzzled. They were not close enough to converse frequently, of course, but neither was theirs a relationship that warranted hostility. Just a few days ago, hadn't they commiserated over their shared negative views of the primordial elf?

With difficulty, Paloel swallowed his questions and first asked after her.

"Did your trip to the Root go well?"

"Yes."

"I see. As it happens, I've come here because there's something I'd like to ask you."

When Rim offered no particular response, Paloel began as though he had been waiting for the opportunity.

"You can probably guess, but what I want to ask about is that fellow whose authenticity is uncertain, who dares to go around calling himself the primordial elf despite being a mere human."

Of course, Paloel knew the man had never called himself the primordial elf. He also knew that Pilde was both the source of the rumor and the one who had spread it.

But what mattered now was winning Rim's sympathy.

"So, what I'm saying—"

That was why he had opened with more inflammatory language. But at that moment:

"Enough."

"... What?"

"I said, enough."

Suddenly, she had dropped all courtesy.

Then:

"How dare you—"

Her expressionless face twisted like a demon's.

"Insult the revered primordial elf in front of me?"

Killing intent burst outward, seizing the entire room.