IRE 18

chapter 18

At that question, Irian’s expression hardened. I could feel the Sentinels behind him stiffening as well.

Irian slowly withdrew the smile that had been on his lips.

“Are you referring to those beastfolk?”

“Yes. They were with me. My companions—and my guests.”

“Hmm… guests, you say?”

One of Irian’s eyebrows twitched.

The surroundings sank into silence.

It was a frigid, suffocating stillness, one that felt unnatural and unpleasant compared to the calm of the forest.

Feeling uncomfortable in that atmosphere, I instinctively reached for my bow—only to realize belatedly that I no longer had it.

Perhaps that movement caught his eye, for Irian’s face grew grim again.

“Guests… You must know that because of those beasts, even Eldmir was nearly brought to ruin. No, of course you know—you yourself nearly lost your life.”

His voice was sharp, every word a barbed question.

I felt my body tense, but I spoke in as calm and steady a voice as I could manage.

“Even so, they were ones worth protecting—even at such risk.”

Irian’s brows knit tightly at my refusal to yield.

“They drew disaster into the forest.”

“And how does that make it their fault? The orcs have been rampaging for far longer than a day or two. Surely you’re not saying their madness is something to be blamed on those children.”

“Eldmir.”

Irian called my name as though weary of the exchange.

The warmth from earlier was completely gone.

The war of nerves between us filled the forest with tension, and my sharp replies only stoked Irian’s agitation.

“Irian, I’m grateful for your hospitality and care. I’m even considering holding a ‘rite’ for your people after I complete my coming-of-age ceremony. I mean that sincerely.”

This rite referred to a pilgrimage Sentinels regularly undertook—traveling through the forest to villages, offering prayers and blessings in the name of El Rdarel.

It was normally held once every thirty years, but each Sentinel’s very first pilgrimage took place right after their coming-of-age. Mine was not far off.

The rite was also a tradition created in honor of El Rdarel’s devotion to his people and the forest, and it was said that during such times, the Sentinels’ words carried his divine power.

Thus, for elves, it was an event of great significance. A visit from a pilgrim to one’s village was seen as an honor.

“All the more reason I don’t want to think poorly of you.”

I avoided using the word enemy. That was not a word to be thrown carelessly between kin.

Even so, they seemed to understand my meaning. I could feel the tension spike among Irian and the Sentinels.

Though I was wounded and without arms, they clearly regarded me as a genuine threat.

I let out a bitter smile.

“Irian, you said you saw me as an honored guest, and that your people only wished to see my condition for themselves. I don’t sense falsehood in that.”

Indeed, they likely carried respect for the one who had single-handedly defeated eight Warhammers, and concern for whether I was safe.

If it were someone I admired who was gravely injured, I too might wish to check on them personally.

But these were Sentinels.

Guardians of their village, watchmen of the forest’s safety.

They would not gather in such numbers for something so trivial.

“As you call me brother, so do I think of you as brothers. At least for now. So please… brothers.”

I slowly raised my hand.

Irian didn’t move, but his body grew taut.

Seeing he did not flinch, I took it as proof he still trusted me. I gently laid my hand on his shoulder.

“Those children are not our enemies. Please understand that.”

“…The orcs said they were sacrifices, vessels to fulfill their fate. As long as they live, the orcs will keep coming.”

At that, my face twisted with fury.

I had tried to hold it back, but I could no longer remain silent.

“…Don’t you dare call them ‘those creatures.’”

Not orcs, but the children—called “creatures.”

I raised my voice without meaning to.

“Who is truly the enemy of the forest? The orcs who invade it? Or those pitiful beastfolk who, after their kin were slaughtered by orc savagery, barely escaped with their lives?”

I realized my hand was gripping his shoulder too tightly and pulled it back.

But the strength didn’t leave my hand, and my fist clenched tight.

The wound on my arm reopened, blood streaming out, but I didn’t care.

All my focus was on the Sentinel before me.

“Calling those children enemies is cowardice. Are you going to dump all the blame on them just because we couldn’t defeat the Warhammers?”

“Erl, calm yourself.”

My mother’s voice called out, but I didn’t look away.

I ignored the Sentinels behind Irian as they drew their weapons, keeping my eyes locked only on him. He too didn’t flinch, meeting my glare head-on.

“You’ve let your emotions blind you. What nonsense is this, claiming beastfolk as your guests? Saying I’ve laid blame unjustly? Absurd. Orcs have their sins. Beastfolk have theirs. Each bears guilt of their own. They are all enemies of our people, and their sins are their own.”

Irian’s eyes burned into me.

“Have you ever fought beastfolk yourself? Have you seen their claws pierce an elf’s heart? Have you seen their fangs crush a parent’s skull?”

“…What?”

I frowned.

We were far from where beastfolk dwelled.

And yet, he claimed they had been attacked by them?

As if to answer my doubts, Irian continued.

“You said you would hold the rite in our village. That would be great joy to me—but it is also a curse.”

It was an unexpected revelation, but everyone had their circumstances.

Even if his anger had justification, that did not make his judgment universally right.

“They are just children.”

“They are royal children. Highborn heirs of the beastfolk, dangerous seeds who could one day revive their fallen people.”

“Don’t twist your personal vendetta into guilt for an entire race. Those children didn’t harm your parents. They’ve harmed no one of our kind. Their claws and fangs have never been turned on anyone.”

At that, even Irian’s composure broke, his voice rising with passion.

“Even so! They are the last bloodline of the beastfolk. The orc spoke true—if they are destroyed, such tragedy will never befall us again—!”

Smack!

Irian’s head snapped sideways before he could finish.

Not by his own will—but by my mother’s hand.

“…!”

Perhaps the one most shocked was not Irian, nor the dumbfounded Sentinels behind him, but me.

My mother had struck someone.

She—so kind, gentle, the very image of serenity.

I swore this was the first time I had ever seen her resort to violence outside of duty.

“Enough, Irian. There are limits, even to reckless words.”

This time, I nearly gaped in disbelief.

If this didn’t warrant shock, what did?

My mouth fell open, but no words came, caught in my throat.

I could only stare stupidly between my mother and Irian.

“…I’ve truly taken a blow.”

“I’ll give you many more if you cross the line again.”

Still polite, yet her aura was fierce. My earlier anger dissolved, replaced with a desperate urge to calm her down.

“M-Mother, please, calm yourself.”

“….”

But she didn’t budge, eyes locked on Irian.

He met her gaze silently, then sighed.

“…What a formidable mother and son you are. I can’t match you.”

“….”

“Do you all realize? Even among kin, there are limits. You just struck another village’s El Sentinel. There is no reason, nor obligation, for us to endure such an insult.”

“We are grateful for your acceptance and care.”

Eshiria—my mother—answered steadily.

“But that doesn’t mean we must bow to your every demand. Just as you have pride, so do we. We will repay this debt, someday, somehow. But those children—”

“Enough.”

Irian cut her off in a calm tone, raising his arm to hold back the Sentinels behind him.

“I see clearly now. You are determined to protect those beastfolk—even if it means making enemies of your kin.”

“Irian—”

My mother tried to protest, but again, he lifted a hand to silence her.

She pressed her lips shut, glaring at him.

I could feel the atmosphere turning dangerous, my thoughts chilling.

The Sentinels who once showed me respect were now glaring at us coldly.

And worse—

I caught the murderous glint in Irian’s eyes.

Without thinking, I reached out.

“Who are you baring your killing intent to?”

How had it come to this?

Was it all because of Keris and her companions?

No. That couldn’t explain their drastic change in attitude.

Thirty armed Sentinels, their El Sentinel among them, came to ‘pay respects.’ They cultivated warmth, only to turn hostile the moment Keris was mentioned.

I grabbed Irian by the collar, staring icily at him and the others.

As he said himself—I was the one who had defeated eight Warhammers alone. Like it or not, I had written a new legend.

Exaggerating only slightly, I alone was a force that could erase a village.

True, it was only possible because of that mysterious skill. But the outcome remained.

And still—they chose this path.

It must have been their intention from the start.

“Irian. El Sentinel of Chitaen, Irian Alskra.”

You called yourself the El Sentinel of this village. That means you’re prepared to bear the weight of your choice.

I gathered my thoughts, then swept my gaze over every single Sentinel encircling us.

If it had only been Irian’s anger directed at me, things might not have escalated this far.

Even Keris and the others being dismissed might still have been reasoned with.

But they had crossed a line that could not be uncrossed.

I spoke.

“I demand the Trial of the Forest.”