The whispers of the Wind Spirit were not something that could be easily believed.

What? Master has returned?

She was certain it was a lie. Throughout the past five meaningless years that had flowed by like hollow echoes, she had learned to let such stories drift past her, her heart already hardened in its convictions.

He had left. He had abandoned her, abandoned everyone remaining in the guild, and vanished. And now, to hear that he had returned… that he intended to reclaim his place… Elena could not believe it.

He had been missing. His tracks were lost, his whereabouts and his very life or death impossible to discern. He could not be found. Even his identity seemed to have been blurred by time. Even if she were to see a wanted poster with his face, she wouldn’t have trusted her eyes. Even if his phantom appeared before her again, Elena would not have seen it as her true Master.

He was already gone. He had left her behind. This terrible, cold truth was the only result she had received from the world. No matter how much she denied it, struggled, or self-hypnotized, it was a fate she eventually had to accept.

Unless… there had been some sort of mistake?

The Elf Queen shook her head. Her clouded eyes no longer looked clear. No one could remember if they were originally a pristine, minty hue or a dark, bleeding crimson—no one except Elena herself. Or perhaps, just one person… that one man might remember.

Elena stepped outside the palace. With an inscrutable expression, she began to project her senses toward a tiny, insignificant village beyond the forest.

She unfurled her clairvoyance, using the forest, the sky, and even the drifting clouds as her eyes to scan the area. Was the environment comfortable enough for Master to rest? Was it a desirable or beneficial place for him? She merely observed. It wasn’t that she desperately wanted to see his defenseless side, nor was it to manifest some impudent emotion toward him.

She caught the scent of her Master drifting through nature.

“Sss—haaa… sss—haaa…”

She breathed in sharply. She filtered out the ordinary air and took in only the breath Master had exhaled, the microscopic dust clinging to his clothes, the very essence of his respiration. Elena soothed her loneliness with his breath. Her lips twitched as if they might burst, yet she could not stand the thought of anyone else coveting what belonged to her Master.

With the intensity of someone unwilling to yield a single atom of air, she folded her hands over her lower face. As she stepped toward the humble village, she glared at the trees passing by her side. Fearing she might suffocate, the four Great Spirits tried to breathe their own essence into her, but she struck them away with the edge of her hand.

Instead, she paid them no mind, inhaling and exhaling only the air that traveled from her Master’s lungs. With the singular obsession of filling her very marrow with his existence, she drew in the breath.

It was immediately after she arrived at the village.

The sight of a hopelessly impoverished landscape greeted her. The windmills creaked feebly, unable to fulfill their purpose. The torn fabrics would need replacement within three months, or they would never serve the village again. The worn, old roofs bore the scars of having half-tattered away in a storm.

Perhaps the inn was the only place with a modicum of luxury? Even so, the situation wouldn’t be much different. The difference in this village’s inn would only be a matter of whether they had enough capital to last another day. The well looked filthy, caked with grime and soil. As for the quality of the food—it was likely barely better than the drinking water.

Elena clicked her tongue bitterly. Master is living in a place like this?

Elena felt as though her heart would collapse. Master was a being who should always reign sublimely and nobly over the heavens. Ever since she began commanding the Great Spirits, the gap in power between Elena and Keyal had become distinct, but to her, strength was merely a trick to be performed for his sake. She could never consider herself equal to or above her Master, a Half-Demon, because of such trivialities.

Master is special.

Master is great.

Master is holy.

She was a woman of unrivaled strength and wisdom, yet she never once desired to stand above Keyal. She had no intention of exuding a status he did not wish for. She was a lowly slave. The very act of a mere slave and obedient tool standing on the same line as her Master was a pure contradiction that defied all logic.

If he told her to grovel, she would kneel.

If he told her to lick, she would wet him with all her heart.

If he told her to open, she would gladly spread even her private parts.

No matter how vulgar she might look, if it brought her Master satisfaction, she would express that joy with her entire body. And today, she had traveled to this narrow, modest land to prove her docility once more—to prove her usefulness and her value.

Entering the shop, she ignored the gazes focused on her and opened her eyes coldly.

“…If you don’t want to die, everyone please leave. This place is a sanctuary meant only for me and my Master.”

The long, long pilgrimage had finally ended. It was time to meet him. She had prepared the rite. No guests were needed to celebrate this auspicious occasion. Of course, once Master’s permission was granted, this place would become the temple where a true wedding would be held.

She would forgive no one who interfered with her reunion with her Master. Not even the employee crouching on the floor, clutching her head; not even an innocent child who knew nothing of the world.

“…The place where Master and I meet… anyone who interferes… dies…”

She calmed her turbulent heart. What if she was rejected again? What if he turned her away to her face? She didn’t have the confidence to go on living. She wouldn’t be able to survive without a noose.

“No… I am…”

She was the Elf Queen. She had taken the throne to prove her value to her Master. If she could only prove her worth to him and re-imprint the fact that she was his obedient tool, everything would be resolved.

She wanted him to need her. It didn’t matter if he treated her roughly like a tool, abused her, or broke her. As long as he was looking at her, as long as he said she was useful, she feared nothing in this world. As long as he saw her as a convenient instrument, it was fine.

She was not afraid of anything else. She was only afraid of being abandoned by her Master. Her mind was murky… dizzy. Yet, she had to persevere.

Let go of weak thoughts, Elena comforted herself. If he was the kind Master she knew, he would surely never abandon her again if she showed him the same devotion as before. She loved him. Even if it was a happiness that exceeded her station, it was enough. She would be a dog that licked his feet for the rest of her life, watching and supporting his every happiness from his side.

That would be enough. That would… be enough.

She finished her mental preparation. Simultaneously, she began to adjust her appearance. Before Master arrived, she erased the sunken hollows beneath her eyes, healed her scars, tidied her hair, and straightened her clothes. She could not show even the slightest hint of ugliness. She could not—must not—show him such a state.

Before Master’s Magi arrived, before the sound of the bell welcomed him to the shop, everything had to be perfect. First, she eliminated the smell of blood and medicine, erasing the stale scents. She hid every trace of anyone other than Master, the employee, and herself. Honestly, she wanted to tear down and rebuild the entire place, but there was no time. She had to be the image Master desired.

Ting.

As soon as the bell rang, the Elf hid herself. It wasn’t that she wasn’t ready, but rather to savor him for a few moments longer.

There he was, appearing as he emitted dark Magi. Far from savoring the moment, the second she saw him, her heart began to ache and throb with overwhelming emotion. How much had she wanted to see him? How many nights had she stayed awake longing for him? The tall, handsome man before her eyes was undeniably her Master, Keyal Klein.

The Elf, Elena, drifted gracefully to the floor. Though she had cleaned the area before his arrival, the dust that had settled made him wary as she stepped forward.

“Ah… ah… Master…”

My beloved Master…

How long had she searched? Inhaling his thick Magi, she could no longer hold back her tears. Her heart, which she thought had dried up and would never beat again, began to throb. He was the one who didn’t deny that she could feel sadness—that she could feel joy.

“Elena…?”

“Haa… please don’t go anywhere now… I’ll… hic… I’ll protect you… Master… haaa.”

Her once-faded beauty bloomed again, regaining its luster. It signaled that the cold nights spent in tears were over, and she no longer needed salvation. For her true salvation stood right before her eyes.

Elena had regained her light. As he embraced her, she was certain that this light would never disappear or be extinguished again.

“…I will never let you go again.”