In my childhood, I thought elves were monsters.
It was the fate of someone born as a noble of the Empire.
Elves have been enemies of humanity for a long time. And since the Empire was the one that mainly clashed with them, I was indoctrinated with negative perceptions about them.
I heard about how many innocent lives the elves had taken.
The number of burnt homes reached hundreds, and I heard they did not hesitate to commit brutal acts during battles. As someone whose mind was still growing, I could only think the following.
Ah, elves are like monsters.
They were just beautiful in appearance. In that case, weren’t they no different from monsters?
However, I was no longer the naive brat of those days.
As I grew older, my perspective gradually widened. This led me to realize some things.
Not all bad people are deserving of contempt.
Power solidifies itself by creating enemies. Those virtual enemies are regarded as devils or monsters that must be completely erased.
Perhaps elves were the same.
I thought some of them must be good-hearted. Although most would be filled with hatred toward humanity, surely a few would adopt a more moderate stance.
Thus, I once vowed to hold a moderate attitude as well.
But the power of fixed mindsets was tremendous.
I felt it over the past few days.
I regarded elves as enemies to the extent that I could do nothing about it. They were the wicked beings that, as a noble of the Empire, I had to subdue.
It was a perception deeply rooted since childhood.
There was no way to simply erase this.
To me, elves still felt untrustworthy and perilous.
And one event was occurring, shattering that worldview right before my eyes.
“Wow, bread! Is it really this soft?!”
Ishya asked me, her eyes wide with astonishment.
She had a deeply moved expression at the newfound gourmet world she was experiencing. If left as is, she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment.
Rughet’s reaction, though slightly more composed, wasn’t much different.
He stuffed a piece of bread into his mouth with an amazed look.
“This, this is amazing!”
Then he suddenly choked, hastily gulping down some water.
It was fortunate that we were in a snowfield. We could melt the snow for drinking water, so there was plenty available.
The problem was storing it without freezing.
I forced a somewhat awkward smile and said.
“Well, this pocket is special. In fact, bread becomes hard and loses its flavor the longer you keep it. And above all, it has a lot of seasonings like sugar…”
“Sugar!”
Every single word I spoke garnered enthusiastic reactions from the elves.
The elf woman who introduced herself as “Miela” was no different. Though she was older than Ishya and was referred to as “Aunt Miela,” I honestly couldn’t tell the difference with my own eyes.
Both looked to be around my age.
Indeed, they were elves who showed no signs of aging until just before death.
Her striking, deep crimson hair was impressive.
Aunt Miela, her eyes sparkling, asked me.
“I’ve heard there are sweet-tasting stones, right? There are records saying that our elves used to cook with them in ancient times…”
“Are those records still passed down?”
“Of course! We treasure our traditions. Also, since we live long, many people can recreate them from memory if lost… Um, if you’re curious, would you like me to share our traditional recipes?”
It was an intriguing story.
Thus, there was a possibility that records from thousands of years ago were preserved. Perhaps there was information about the Dark Cult as well?
To be honest, I was genuinely curious about the traditional dishes of the elves from thousands of years ago.
It was cooking from the times when they resided in the Great Forest. Having been driven to the northernmost part of the continent, it would likely be impossible to obtain the ingredients from back then.
But what if I could recreate them with the ingredients I had?
Wouldn’t this be useful in gaining the elves’ favor?
It was a rather pointless concern.
The elves were already extraordinarily favorable toward me with just a single piece of bread.
They did not seem like those who had suffered oppression for centuries.
Rather, they seemed more like simple country folk.
This aspect puzzled me.
It felt like they had no significant difference from people from my hometown.
“If you share, I would be grateful. I want to gather as much information as possible. I feel like my memories might come back…”
“Oh dear, how sad.”
Aunt Miela immediately had a look of pity in her eyes.
Finding out she even had children made it seem like she had a particularly sympathetic nature. It was an emotion hard to possess for those who were originally hungry and poor.
When survival was already stressful, how could one take care of others?
In contrast, the elves appeared to have a more generous temperament.
Perhaps it was due to their long lives.
Aunt Miela comforted me, as if saying not to worry too much.
“Don’t worry too much, little one. I was very scared when I heard there were humans with swords and axes, you know? But now, seeing you, you seem so reliable and even brought bread…”
“We’re not really different, are we?”
The elf who chimed in was a muscular man called “Dolf.”
He claimed to be the village’s carpenter, along with being a woodcutter, builder, and various other roles.
It was a typical scenario for a small rural village.
“I like it… Above all, it’s touching that you came all the way here to save that little elf. These days, it’s hard to see such kinship among elves.”
“Right, stay here for a while and think things over slowly. Honestly, our situation isn’t great, but you’ll have time to prepare to leave as soon as you recover your memories.”
Aunt Miela, Dolf, and Rughet were the elves who showed me kindness. The rest still looked at me with wary eyes.
Of course, they felt some gratitude since I gave them bread.
Yet, their treatment was unexpectedly mild. I felt somewhat confused.
They weren’t what I had imagined elves to be.
I had anticipated a race more hostile to humanity, one twisted and made cruel and fierce by countless grievances.
But the ones I was facing now appeared to be ordinary.
In this light, weren’t they no different from humanity?
I suddenly felt my prayers constrict. I was abruptly caught short of breath.
Images surfaced.
Countless elves collapsing before my sword and axe.
Just before I could no longer bear it and struck my chest.
“Humans are still humans!”
A shrill voice struck my ears.
That sudden denunciation surprisingly cleared my airway. I turned my head toward the direction of the shout.
There, a boy who looked to be in his late teens was seated.
Rughet poked me in the side whispering.
“That’s ‘Pope Eyong.’”
Eyong?
I was even more surprised by that title. He looked younger than the elves around him.
Pope glared at me with a very serious expression.
Before him was bread he hadn’t touched. He seemed to want to eat it from the glances he cast at it, yet his pride seemed to hold him back.
With all eyes on him, his voice grew louder.
“All humans are untrustworthy! Have you all forgotten how we were driven into this cold and foodless north?!”
Pope Eyong couldn’t contain his fury and stood up abruptly.
Thud, thud, the sound of his footsteps echoed, conveying the size of his anger.
In terms of action, he was undeniably an elder.
I swallowed hard and looked at Pope.
I didn’t feel angry. On the contrary, I found some relief in observing him.
Yes, this is how elves should be.
It felt like the distorted worldview was gradually being restored. The breath that had felt so constricted moments ago became smooth.
Pope Eyong shot me a glare filled with hatred.
“I still vividly remember! The human bastards that attacked our village… Yes, that guy was a knight with a splendid sword, just like you.”
“Pope Eyong…”
Ultimately, it was Rughet who intervened.
He seemed to carry the trust of the village elves alongside Ishya. It wouldn’t be wrong to call him the leader of the village.
A voice almost pleading emerged from the boy.
“Of course, we should be cautious of humans. But he is someone who protected our elf child, right? There’s no way someone blessed would lie… right, Pope Eyong? You were blessed, so you understand.”
“Cough!”
“Blessed,” huh?
It was intriguing information. My eyes suddenly scrutinized Pope’s body.
Outwardly, he just appeared to be a small child with dark green hair. Yet within him lurked that grotesque flesh, whether of Abiyang or the Snowfield monster.
Pope couldn’t hide his pride, puffing out his chest.
“That must be thanks to Sir Leorick recognizing my piety!”
“Thanks to that, you’ve sent a tremendous amount of game to the headquarters. You’re the only elf responsible for the village’s meat, after all.”
“At that time, I thought that just obtaining the ‘blessing’ would let me catch more game!”
Realizing he was being squeezed into a corner, Pope felt insulted by Rughet’s line of reasoning.
Of course, nothing came of it.
As if to say that Rughet couldn’t be deterred, he shook his head, and Pope cleared his throat a few more times before turning away. Before he left, he muttered a final few words.
“Anyway, you can’t trust humans! You all better remember what I said, or you’ll regret it!”
“Eyong, at least eat the bread before you go!”
“Hmph, who knows if it’s poisoned?”
Eventually, Rughet collapsed back into his seat, as if he felt defeated.
Pope seemed to have resigned himself, but it looked like he realized it was futile.
The sound of Ishya clicking her tongue could be heard.
“Still the same, Pope Eyong…”
There was a tone suggesting some circumstances.
Feeling curious, I subtly approached Ishya and asked.
“What does he do?”
“Goodness!”
Ishya was startled by my silent approach.
Her large eyes were now fixed on me, but I remained calm. I asked again.
“What did I do wrong? It seems Pope Eyong dislikes me…”
“That’s because you’re human!”
Ishya’s tone was a mix of wanting to comfort me and wanting to blame me.
It was a confused tone that continued.
“Pope Eyong lost his family to humans in the past… he suffered a catastrophe while living peacefully in the village.”
“He was living peacefully, yet there was an attack?”
“Yeah, isn’t that the way humans act?!”
Ishya glared at me as if disgusted, beginning to seethe.
She seemed quite indignant.
“Do you think it’s only Pope Eyong? Many elves starved to death because you humans burned down our granaries periodically! If it weren’t for hunters like Pope Eyong, we’d be starving to death…”
I listened quietly, nodding at her words.
It was an interesting story.
“He was a hunter.”
“…Hey, are you even paying attention to my story?”
Of course, I was.
Just the necessary parts.
I finished my internal calculations.
To be honest, I felt more at ease with Pope than with Rughet or Aunt Miela. Even just by showing dislike and hatred, he felt familiar to me.
He was just as I had known elves to be.
A relationship forged from necessity, where I could clash swords.
It was ideal.
Someday, I had to leave the elf village.
It was best not to leave even a trace of regret.
And he seemed to know many secrets.
From Leorick’s “blessing” to the army that supposedly attacked the peaceful elf village.
I felt I should increase my connections with him.
“Hey, just so you know… don’t act like you’re tough because you’ve swung a sword? Although he seems like that, he’s an incredibly strong hunter who has even hunted the Snowfield monster!”
Hunting.
I fidgeted with the sword and hand axe strapped to my waist.
It was not a bad hobby.
