Chapter 29 – The Way Home
“Could it really be resentment that’s the main reason behind the rise of all these cultists??”
After Tillysha left, holding Yimi’s hand, she glanced at the flower bud still warm from the touch of the girl in her palm, and Gran thought for a moment.
The meaning behind the girl’s words, if one doesn’t let preconceived notions cloud their judgment, was relatively easy to understand.
Gran wasn’t one of those rigid old nobles; his thinking was quite flexible. In fact, he had been investigating the issue of why cultists kept increasing for a long time.
If the empire’s corrupt officials were forcing these pitiful commoners into desperation, thereby forcing them to turn to cults, logically it wouldn’t make sense. After all, any normal person would not place their hopes in a mysterious cult with a bad reputation. Moreover, the empire’s policy of zero tolerance towards cultists means that even if these commoners were given ten times their courage, they wouldn’t dare to follow a cult. It was an entirely untouchable topic.
Without clear evidence, and with the imperial authorities being vague about the matter, Gran could only put the cause aside and focus on his official duties, rushing around to quell unrest.
Now, thanks to Tillysha’s words, Gran began to consider this possibility. If the increase of cultists wasn’t due to peoples’ own decisions but was instead caused by some kind of recurring supernatural substance, then everything made sense.
Gran had initially assumed that the so-called mutation of cultists was due to a spreading virus and had conducted research on their corpses. But strangely, if this mutation was truly a virus, how was it being transmitted? In the same cities, towns, and even within families, quite a number of people remained uninfected despite cultists emerging. This indicated that the virus wasn’t spreading via common methods like air or water.
When dissecting the internal structures of the cultists, Gran discovered that their innards were very similar to humans’, with no significant structural changes. Using dead prisoners for research, he also found that bl**d was not the means of transmission and was non-contagious.
This placed Gran’s research in a bottleneck. Even if the ‘doctrine’ that turned humans into monsters was a virus, as it lacked any infectious properties, calling it an epidemic wouldn’t hold up.
“If it’s resentment…but.” Gran frowned deeply as he stared at the flower in his palm, which wasn’t heavy but felt unusually hot.”Could mere resentment really turn humans into such terrifying things?”
No one could give him an answer, but his instincts told him that the Elf girl wouldn’t lie, nor would she fabricate something so grave.
If the main culprit were indeed human resentment, then many things would make sense, but Gran, as a traditional imperial citizen, found it hard to believe that simply accumulating extreme thoughts could cause such disorder.
The imperial leaders weren’t a bunch of fools; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been able to maintain their rule for so long.
Gran couldn’t help but think that the imperial leadership, with all their top alchemists, mages, and court physicians, surely hadn’t discovered the root of the problem yet.
If they did, perhaps they hadn’t prioritized investigating it thoroughly.
If Tillysha were present, she would have undoubtedly said something she learned from her second life: “The noblest are the most foolish, and the lowest are the smartest.”
“Mot, you lead everyone back to the city first. Pick two uninjured guards to follow me.” Gran called his personal guard.
“Where are you going, Lord Gran?” Mot looked surprised after hearing this. They had just been in a fierce battle. Although their involvement was limited, their forces were reduced by half, and morale was low. In such a situation, the commander’s decision to detach from the team seemed inappropriate.
“Don’t ask too many questions.” Gran glanced at the flower in his hand, which was beginning to swell. “Remember, those two must be absolutely trustworthy.”
“Understood.” Although Mot didn’t know what Gran was planning, as a soldier, obeying orders was his duty, so he immediately complied.
—
“Hey, you really don’t need this thing anymore, do you?” Two figures, big and small, walked down a village road. Yimi repeatedly examined a strangely shaped object in her hand that seemingly resembled a ‘helmet.’
This was something Tillysha had carelessly thrown aside earlier, and subsequently, Yimi retrieved it.
“I just think it’s not right to cover myself while pretending to be myself, don’t you think, Yimi~”
“Could you stop using that face with such a creepy tone? It’s disgusting.” Yimi showed no facial expression, but her eyes flashed with a hint of disdain, resembling certain anime side stories where girls tread someone underfoot repeatedly while remaining expressionless and utterly disdainful.
“You just said you didn’t care for disguises, didn’t you?”
“I meant that I don’t need to when being myself. But when necessary, some disguise is still essential.” Dillin’s smile widened as his hand gently patted Yimi’s little head. “Isn’t that right?”
“Don’t touch me! Who allowed you to do that?” Although Yimi said this verbally, she didn’t make any real physical attempt to stop him, effectively permitting Dillin to keep petting her.
This guy must’ve changed somehow. Initially, when he assumed this human form, he was rather well-behaved and didn’t smile in such a nauseating way. Why was he now grinning so freely and effortlessly?
Had he finally let loose?
And then…
Because Yimi hadn’t stopped him, Dillin took it further. From her head, to her hair, and even to her cheeks, his hands roamed freely, rubbing and touching.
If Yimi didn’t know that the person inside was female, she might’ve classified him as nothing but a twisted Lolicon.
No, regardless, that made no difference to her conclusion—he was still twisted.
Pfft, creepy woman, how dare she be moved by her attitude moments ago? And here she was, showing a different face.
“Listen, if you keep touching me, I’ll start screaming and have you arrested as a pervert.” Yimi still lacked any overt expression but showed signs of impatience with hash-marks visibly appearing over her head.
“Ah~ Who’s going to hear you call out here?” Dillin placed her hand above her eyes to pretend to scan the barren wasteland around them. “Look at this wilderness—no one’s going to rescue you even if you scream your lungs out today.”
“You evil person.” Yimi muttered quietly. “I’ll get you someday.”
“Hmph.” Dillin didn’t care about anything else and continued to rub Yimi’s soft cheeks, feeling as if they had an excellent texture—soft yet with some elasticity, like cotton candy, almost impossible to stop touching.
It was like how old men love to handle their walnuts—once they start, it becomes second nature. Dillin, who hadn’t developed the habit of handling items, felt it wasn’t too late to start. Yimi’s cheeks were a perfect substitute—purely golden Elf cheeks; nothing could compare to them.
Once in a while, she’d give a little prod, a little press, a little poke… and even thought about… licking it, but decided against that—lest she truly became a pervert.
“You disgusting woman, let go!” Finally, Yimi couldn’t endure the handling anymore, feeling both exasperated and flustered, her cheeks now flushed red.
“Ah? What did you call me?”
“…” The moment Dillin opened her mouth, Yimi instinctively shut her own, even though her gaze was averted and she didn’t see Dillin’s face, she was sure that the expression must have been peculiar.
That unnerving smile—laughing, yet terrifying to witness.
Golden Elves don’t pick unnecessary fights.
Recalling Dillin’s notorious past actions, Yimi conceded defeat internally. She was outdone, both in combat skills and verbal sparring. She could only endure being bullied.
“Hey, my cute little Yimi, don’t make that pitiful face like a bullied little uncle, alright?” Dillin patted Yimi’s cheek from behind, smiling cheerfully.
“Do you still remember how good it felt when you slapped me that time?”
“Huh?!” Yimi’s slender frame froze.
She’d almost forgotten—this woman held grudges.
“That slap was impressive, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just a random act, was it? I got a little hoof print on my face but said nothing. So what’s the problem with rubbing your cheeks a little?” Dillin poked at Yimi’s soft cheeks.
“…” Yimi kept quiet, but Dillin could clearly sense her emotions.
“I’m curious, what were you thinking back then? Your mental activities must’ve been something like, ‘Oh, finally got to slap that annoying Tillysha in the face, what a satisfying slap!'” Right? This must have been your truest thoughts back then?”
“That’s not true. Stop trying to impose your thoughts onto others.”
“If it’s untrue, then why are you so tense? Look at your back—it’s almost like a tightly strung bow.”
“Alright, forget what you were thinking, didn’t I say before that any harm done to me comes with punishment?”
“Even though you’ve assassinated me a lot in the past, you’ve never left any markings on me, so the nature of this event is a bit different, isn’t it?”
Dillin narrowed her eyes. “Slapping my face? Do you realize my face has never been hit by anyone—ever?”
Even her sister dealt with her by swatting her behind, not her face. And this little brat dared to slap her.
Even though it was involuntary, the first bl**d on her cheeks wasn’t a pleasant experience for Dillin.
“…” Yimi stayed silent.
“Hmph.” Seeing Yimi’s silence, Dillin said no more and started to casually handle Yimi’s cheeks, even humming a nursery rhyme. Yimi dared not object further.
Upon listening carefully, Yimi realized that Dillin was still singing the same “[Swan Dirge],” but the tone and style were entirely different from before.
The once sacred and refined “[Swan Dirge]” was now being butchered by Dillin’s careless voice, with every note wrong, and sung in a deep voice. Yimi’s suffering was indescribable.
Stop, please stop! People sing for entertainment, but your singing is lethal!
Yimi’s mind was already cursing Dillin ten thousand times over, pleading with Mother Earth to send someone capable of handling Dillin.
But, Yimi couldn’t imagine anyone capable of handling Tillysha and making her submit. Even imagining her looking defeated seemed impossible.
Soon, she realized her prayer was wrong. How could the sacred Mother Earth deal with demons? To defeat demons, only an even more terrible demon would do.
“Are you thinking about something impolite right now?”
“No.” Yimi shook her head.
This woman could sense her emotional fluctuations, making Yimi feel like her thoughts were being invaded and scrutinized thoroughly.
The crisis of the Corpse Flower had been temporarily averted, and Dillin found what she was looking for this time—memory fragments.
Besides that, there were still many things she didn’t understand. For example, who founded the laboratory they found when they first entered Ruglien?
There was an eerie sense that these events were somehow interconnected.
Moreover, the stance of the Moon Elves was also crucial. Dillin decided that their next destination would be the current Elf Forest, the Forest of the Wise.
Since she was aware of her identity, she would no longer conceal her racial traits.
If any Moon Elf elder dared to harm her or intended to confine her, Tillysha would try to reason with them. After all, they belonged to the same race.
But if reasonable conversations didn’t work, Tillysha would still try to reason with them; albeit with a different kind of ‘reason.’
If they remained obstinate, Tillysha would make them understand why hundreds of thousands of elves called her the Elf Divine Warrior.
Her power was tied to her memories, and though her strength hadn’t fully recovered, how much she had regained was still debatable. It was enough.
Apart from that Bilodis person, there was likely no one in the current Elf clan who could match her.
Speaking of which, how was Bilodis doing now?
Although their departure was delayed due to various reasons, both of them eventually boarded a carriage for the journey home. Inside the carriage, as Dillin looked out at the scenery, she couldn’t help but recall her childhood despite it being a long time ago and her fragmented memories.
She still vaguely remembered many things, especially those embarrassing episodes from her past with her sister. Whenever Dillin teased her about her weight or misbehaved, she was punished endlessly by her seemingly sweet-tempered sibling.
Still, Tillysha couldn’t help but wonder how the old dairy cow was doing and whether she was faring well.
