291. The Key to the Nine Thousand Mile Sky (7)
Queen Leia’s banquet was a series of surprises for the elves of the Jerolen Royal Family. They hid their discomfort, stiffly yet carefully serving the food.
A table filled with dozens of dishes. It was a lineup befitting the Guimerin Royal Family, known for their wide-ranging activities. The feast was thoughtfully prepared with specialties from various regions, combined with entirely different recipes, ensuring everyone could enjoy their preferred dishes.
Though their sovereign seemed to have no thoughts at all, Jerolen’s knights were shocked and cowered at the fact that they were sharing a table with the Serpent King.
“Truly a splendid meal,” said Jerolen, his face flushed red from drinking too much wine. He wiped his mouth, marveling at how Leia’s vassals, regardless of rank or status, shared the same table and utensils.
“This is the new era, huh…”
“Stop talking like that, Jerolen. Speaking like a kind old man next door won’t make it any better.”
“I don’t need your approval, kid.”
Jerolen and Leia clinked their glasses, laughing. The sticky golden liquid slid down their throats. The alcohol was so strong it felt like it burned all the way down. A taste not quite fitting for a young man, but Jerolen chuckled heartily.
“An unintended invitation, and an unexpected meeting. But I thank you for your hospitality, Queen Guimerin.”
“Don’t call me by the castle name, just call me Leia. That name annoys me.”
“Haha. Alright. The union of two races, they say. Then I suppose we can’t represent just one royal family.”
Jerolen’s gaze held a hint of goodwill. He nodded amiably and poured wine into his empty glass and Leia’s.
“Now that the atmosphere is sufficiently warmed up, and since you haven’t poisoned me, my vassals will respect your words. I’d like to hear why you came to my domain and acted so rudely.”
“Poisoned…? Haha, if you were worried about that, why did you accept my invitation?”
“Because the moment you have a dragon, it becomes meaningless.”
From the moment the meal was proposed, he knew the risk of poisoning. But there was no way to avoid it. He had Lissir, but for some reason, Leia also had a dragon, and crucially, he was vastly outmatched in naval power.
If this meeting ended in disaster and he returned to his flagship, he might survive for now, but the annihilation of his entire race would be inevitable. Lives lost in war could never be restored.
If this was all a trap and Leia intended to poison him, there was no way to escape. Resisting would only cost the lives of his people. From the beginning, Jerolen had prepared himself to be captured and merged into the Guimerin Royal Family without resistance if poisoning was attempted.
“…Impressive. I never thought the Serpent King would think like this. You… weren’t you three the ones who pushed your own kind into the abyss for your own sake?”
“Are you serious? Did Guimerin or Malerun offer their necks without a word of defense? They weren’t the type…”
Jerolen widened his eyes, looking at Leia, and when he saw she knew nothing of those times, he burst into laughter and placed his hand on the wine glass.
“The three of us… back then. In the midst of the continent’s war, we weren’t sovereigns, not even generals, Queen Leia. We were three adventurers. We took on requests, dealt with monsters, rescued refugees. Yes, we were the kind who sold our strength for money to survive.”
Though somewhat exceptional. Jerolen thought so even as he set aside his Serpent King-like arrogance. Exceptional. Looking across the entire race, there were none like the three of them. When the three moved together, they could turn the tide of battle with their individual strength alone.
Was it the protection of the gods, the essence of racial potential, or simply a miraculous coincidence? Figures who, if only one had existed, could have reached the realm of demigods, were born in the same era, and the three became friends.
“Let’s not talk of the past. In the old way.”
-Flick!
Jerolen lightly flicked his finger above the wine glass. Soon, flames rose from the liquor. He smiled gloomily, raised his glass, and clinked it with Leia’s. The fire spread.
Leia could finally see that the being before her was a man who had lived over a thousand years. Those eyes held as much wisdom as they did the madness and melancholy of time. He was the history of his race itself.
She matched Jerolen’s rhythm and drank. The fire wasn’t hotter than the wine. And the wine wasn’t as intense as the sorrow of the man sharing the glass with her now.
“In those days, we loved the world.”
Like a line from a minstrel’s song, his voice began to resonate low and wide throughout the hall. Without anyone’s command, the knights of each royal family set down their utensils and looked at him.
* * *
Regardless of the recognition from the elven royal families. If one were to name those who would save the race in the future, it would be these three. All of them were free knights, unbound.
Guimerin, the Shield of the Earth. A knight wielding a spear forged from the flames of a lava giant and a shield blessed by the earth goddess Larisha. A hero who directly blocked a dragon’s breath, saving the lives of countless armies.
Malerun, the Keeper of the Vault. A great scholar possessing the sacred ark bestowed by the celestial god Eidar. A master who had mastered all seven schools of elven magic.
Jerolen, the Knight of the Skies. The greatest griffon rider of the era. A wandering knight who, with a single charge, destroyed the heart of the Great Demon, saving five cities and two hundred thousand lives, yet asked for no reward.
Active across the world, saving their kin, slaying monsters, pushing back other races, and protecting elven territories during the Great War, these three met each other on a battlefield as if by chance.
“Of course, we didn’t trust each other.”
Even if only half the rumors were true, it was hard to believe. If the rumors were entirely true? Then they became targets to be wary of. Such overwhelming power in one person carried that meaning.
The time they spent on the same battlefield. They faced powerful demons, raging ancient dragons, and endless chaos…
They had to face dwarves who were throwing potions. It was a battlefield with no allies, and that was just how things were back in those days.
And at some point when the number they saved and the number of their fallen kin started to balance out, they finally acknowledged each other. These guys, at least, could be trusted to watch their backs. Finally, someone who shared the same vision had appeared.
“Funny thing. Once I acknowledged their abilities, I started thinking like this.”
They acknowledged that strength and ability. Around that time, the three of them almost simultaneously had the same thought. They’re as strong as me, as dangerous as me. So—
“Better keep them in sight to keep them in check.”
The conclusion was wrapped up in elven diplomacy. From that day on, they called each other friends and traveled together. The news that the strongest warriors of their race had formed a group spread across the continent like wildfire.
* * *
When and how did the Celestial War end? Most of the records from that time were buried in the sands, and even the surviving documents held no more meaning than folklore. But Jerolen remembers. He who walked through the era of the Celestial War.
“The end of the world?”
“Yeah.”
It was a fitting topic while cutting through a demon’s skull. Jerolen chuckled and responded to Malerun’s words.
“Wanna bet? Tomorrow?”
“No. A hundred and fifty-two years from now.”
“Wow, that’s specific.”
“It’s the time ordained by the gods, Jerolen.”
Malerun whispered as he touched the edge of the holy relic. Priests are so annoying. He grinned and thrust his spear into the chest of a charging demon. Flesh scattered like a bomb had gone off.
“What was the reason again? No, let me guess. The dwarves, right? Those diggers ended up destroying the continent. Right?”
“It’s no joke.”
“If it’s true, what can we do about the end of the world?”
Jerolen smirked slightly as Malerun waved his hand. In an instant, magic gathered and the charging demons turned to ash. He shook his hand, which crackled with discharged electricity, and said,
“In this war between demons and gods, we’re just being consumed. Do we even have a future? Correction. What I petitioned the gods for was the remaining lifespan of our race.”
“Remaining lifespan?”
“Yeah. How much time our race can endure. How long we can survive in this war.”
How much longer could they, mere mortals, survive in the struggle of the immortals? Their race was clearly on a decline. Slow, but unstoppable.
Five thousand of their kin were sacrificed in a single local battle. For a race that wasn’t numerous to begin with, it was an unbearable loss. And the wars of that era always demanded such losses at every moment.
Anyone could predict that their remaining time wouldn’t be long. But Malerun wanted to go a step further and receive an exact timeframe.
Thus, the answer from the Temple of the Gods was a hundred and fifty-two years. That was the time until their race would lose its ability to survive if the war continued as it was.
“Well… Yeah, that makes sense. If we all die, at least our world will meet its end. So, is there a solution?”
“There’s a stopgap measure.”
Malerun narrowed his eyes and looked at the blood-red sunset. The demon army was gathering again, and the soldiers lined up behind him were visibly exhausted.
“Build an ark to escape the impending doom.”
“An ark…? You mean, like, a boat that floats on the sea?”
“The Great Demon’s focus is on the continent where the main material world lies, and the Celestial Temple of the Gods is also focused on the continent. The dwarves and humans… their civilizations are on the continent too. So, we escape to the sea.”
“Can a few boats really accommodate all of us?”
“It’s already in progress, Jerolen. All three dynasties have agreed to this plan. A fortress city that floats on the sea, impervious to anything except the Great Demon’s direct curse, the Ancient Dragon’s flames, and the dwarves’ cannons.”
It’s a ridiculous joke. The Great Demon was too busy focusing on the continent’s situation to curse them directly. The Ancient Dragons were too busy guarding their nests, and the dwarves wouldn’t come out of the ground to fire cannons at the sea.
A reprieve. A reprieve to delay the end of their race, at least until the brink of the material world’s end. Malerun gave a bitter smile. Instead of a glorious extinction, they chose to wither away over time. After losing their foothold on the continent, all that remained was drifting.
“Then why are you telling me this?”
“Guimerin, you, and I. The three of us will set out to find a way to complete the stopgap measure.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“Even if we escape to the distant sea and preserve our race’s lifeline, it’s useless if the continent itself is destroyed or one side seizes hegemony. Everyone will die eventually anyway. So, let’s try to stop it, Jerolen.”
Simply preventing the material world’s destruction isn’t enough. The elves’ survival conditions were two-fold. The material world must not be completely destroyed. Or, no single hegemonic power must emerge to seize the world.
First, we’ll temporarily escape the calamity, and as the warring factions weaken each other, we’ll return to rebuild civilization. This was the plan devised by the three dynasties and Malerun based on prophecy.
Not bad. But how do we stop it? We can’t stop a destruction that hasn’t come yet, or restrain a hegemonic power that doesn’t exist.
“So what do I have to do?”
“We’re heading to the Temple of the Gods.”
“…What?”
“We’ll open the doors of the Temple of the Gods. Guimerin and you will lead, and I’ll petition. Our existence must have been part of the gods’ plan. They won’t refuse our petition.”
The Elven Temple of the Gods was filled with arrogant gods. To get a direct answer from them, something had to be sacrificed. Most of the time, it was the priest’s life. By offering their soul, the gods’ response would descend like a shadow.
But they’re not just any priests. Malerun, Guimerin, and Jerolen. They were the best their race could offer. People said they were ‘blessed by all the gods.’ If such people petitioned directly, the gods wouldn’t dare ignore them.
That’s what they thought. Because they loved the world and their people. Because they were arrogant enough to believe that only they could save them.
* * *
“…What happened when you met the gods?”
Leia, who had been engrossed in the story, sipped her drink and asked. Everyone in the banquet hall fell silent, listening to the ancient legend tell a tale from the legends.
The old wraith who lived in that era spoke with weary eyes.
“They killed them. Every single one. Without exception.”
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