IRE 21

chapter 21

“…What did you say?”

Irian muttered in a hoarse voice, as if at a loss for words.

“You said you’re the El Sentinel of this village. To have risen to that position, it wasn’t just because of your abilities, but also because of the centuries of trust the villagers placed in you. So, let me ask you this: in all those hundreds of years, how many times have you stepped outside the forest? Not for battle or clashes with enemies, but purely for the sake of exchange. Even for something as trivial as a walk.”

At that question, Irian’s expression soured.

He thought for a moment, then spoke bitterly.

“…Not once.”

“I figured as much.”

I had expected that answer, but hearing it aloud still made me smile wryly.

“Of course not. We elves shout endlessly about the ‘First Era, the First Era, the First Era,’ yet not once have we actually practiced it. Not once. Do you understand what that means? We elves have never once thought to interact with the beastkin. We’ve never once tried to live in harmony with other races.”

Harmony.

It was supposed to be the most sacred virtue of the elves.

But I had long thought something was twisted about it.

The harmony the elves pursued was nothing more than endlessly conforming to others. Never once did we take the initiative to seek a compromise or find a way to blend together.

True harmony is mutual—if one side yields, the other must as well. But elven harmony was hopelessly one-sided.

If the other side was friendly, we were friendly. If they were hostile, we were hostile.

And so, the elves grew estranged from every other race, and that estrangement solidified into the so-called “harmony” we now boast of.

“How can you call this harmony?”

This wasn’t harmony. It was submission.

A warped kind of submission at that.

“Is this truly what elves mean when they speak of harmony? When did we start equating isolation with harmony? When did this flawed mindset become so deeply rooted in us?”

My fist clenched tight.

Because of this damned mindset, elves would eventually come into conflict with every other race—no, with the entire continent.

As a result, the elves were the very first to be eliminated in the Great Racial War. That outcome alone was proof enough that this mindset was a cancer eating away at our people.

“I don’t want that. If we truly are a race that values harmony, then we must break free of this isolation and strive for genuine harmony. If this—what you call the teachings of the forest—is what it means to be an elf, then… fine. Maybe you’re right, maybe I’ve forgotten my identity.”

This was the truth I had carried in my heart all along.

Through playing the game, and through living as an elf after reincarnation, I had endlessly pondered what it meant to be one.

Was the elven way of life truly correct?

Was our early elimination in the Racial War truly just a matter of weakness compared to other races?

I had thought again and again about what had gone wrong, and eventually, I alone had arrived at the answer.

Something was broken in the elves of today.

The teachings of the forest spoke of the First Era, of harmony with the world.

Of a time when all races mingled and united in beauty.

But where, in today’s elves, was such a thing to be seen?

While chanting oaths to the forest, while singing of harmony with the forest, while teaching the spirit of the forest—how had such a way of life become so steeped in isolation?

That was why I had been branded a heretic.

Because I voiced discontent with their way of life. Because I stirred the village with thoughts they could never have imagined.

Of course, the way I did it was not always right, and so they called me a heretic. But whatever the case, I could not agree with them.

“Many scolded me for my ‘wrong’ way of thinking. They whispered that I was a heretic. They mocked me, saying, ‘Why do you defend the others? You think that way only because you’ve never fought them in battle.’”

To them, I laughed back.

Battles with other races?

I had fought them—fought them until my very bones shook.

I had crossed blades in life-or-death struggles, killed them, and survived.

It wasn’t about defending them.

Nor was I mocking my own people or trying to glorify myself as some enlightened fool.

I simply couldn’t stomach it.

That was why, when I met Keris and his companions, I accepted them.

If something displeases you, then fix it yourself.

If the elves won’t take the first step, then I will.

First, I would try to mend relations with the beastkin.

Even if they were a race on the brink of extinction, that didn’t matter. If I could show that I could befriend them, perhaps others would change their minds too.

Perhaps it was only possible because I was both—an “elf” and a reincarnated “human” with memories of my past life.

And I had no intention of denying that.

Why should it be wrong?

It simply made me an elf with a more flexible way of thinking.

Yes. That’s all it was—“flexible thinking.”

“Irian, I’ll befriend those children. After that, I’ll befriend orcs, then werewolves, maybe even humans… I’ll befriend every race I can. And by doing so, I’ll prove that what elves call harmony isn’t just ‘harmony with the forest.’ I’ll prove that you’re wrong. That the harmony we should pursue isn’t one-sided, nor is it a harmony of isolation.”

Harmony isn’t submission.

That was what I wanted to say.

“This is… indeed….”

After listening to me, Irian’s eyes burned with a strange heat.

“…The orcs tried to kill you. Just two days ago, you nearly died by their hands. Even so, you would still call them your friends?”

“And I killed them as well. Their invasion came first, but in the end, I was as much their enemy as they were mine. If they could only set aside their ambition to seize the World Tree, then we could all be friends.”

Besides, the orcs I’d met recently weren’t quite like the orcs I once knew.

Eternal victory?
Annihilation of other races as their sacred mission?

What a joke.

The orcs I had fought before weren’t like that.

They were mad warriors who sought eternal struggle—not victory or defeat, but the fight itself, unending. And such orcs cared about “victory” and “extermination”?

Perhaps a new faction had arisen. Whatever the case, I knew not all orcs could be like that.

Of course, it wouldn’t be easy.

Most races still saw the World Tree as nothing more than a strategic resource.

The dark elves in particular despised us, convinced the World Tree must be destroyed. I didn’t even think it realistic to pursue harmony with them.

But at least with some other races—those with whom compromise was possible—perhaps we could.

That, I believed, was the only path for the elves to avoid destruction.

Some races, like the dark elves and certain human kingdoms, revealed a madness in their desire for the World Tree. But the races near this forest weren’t like that.

They had settled nearby simply because it benefited them. What truly fueled the mutual hostility was the grudges piled up over a long history of conflict, until everyone had become enemies by default.

“If things go on like this, someday we’ll be destroyed by the very enemies we created ourselves. We won’t be able to defend ourselves without help.”

The elves’ isolationism, meant to protect the World Tree, had become a poison.

It turned the entire continent against us. And in the end, bereft of all allies, we were doomed to fall.

“Tell me, El Sentinel of Chitaen—how long do you think we can defend this forest by ourselves? What will you do when the dark elves, prepared and scheming, launch their invasion? When the orcs, crying out for the blessings of Ka Hwaran, launch a grand assault? After you’ve withstood that, what comes next? And after that? How long can we keep defending it with only our strength?”

“…That…”

Irian looked as if he’d never considered it.

No words came to his lips.

But that was only natural.

Who could have foreseen a Great Racial War?

Who could have imagined that ancient dragons of legend would suddenly return?

Who could have predicted… that the elves would be annihilated?

No one.

No one but me.

“Irian, we must break free of this suffocating isolation. I’m not saying my way is the only right one. I’m saying we need to seek another path. And in the answer I found… those children are included.”

“They’re a doomed race. Even if we grant them favor, what benefit could they bring our people…?”

At those words, I snapped without realizing it.

“Goddammit, Irian! Did you even hear what I said? I’m helping those children to break our isolation, and simply because I want to help them! When did I ever say I wanted to use other races as dogs to guard the World Tree? Harmony with them doesn’t mean turning them into soldiers. It means coexistence!”

“…Forgive me. I’ve misspoken again.”

He bowed his head deeply in apology.

I steadied my breathing, taking my mother’s hand as she gently clasped mine, then let it go as I continued.

“As I said, nothing will be easy. But the fact that we can strive to improve—that’s what matters. The refusal to give up.”

There was no guarantee we could even arrange proper talks with them.

Just as elves saw them as enemies, they saw elves the same way. To expect coexistence so soon would be naïve wishful thinking.

I sighed deeply.

I hadn’t expected Irian to fully understand anyway.

I had once called the thinking of this era “primitive.”

That wasn’t an exaggeration.

There was no true enlightenment in their thought. They only repeated what they saw, heard, said, and learned, like infants.

“Irian, I only hope you can understand me. Truly.”

“…Honestly, I can’t say I fully grasp it. I suppose it means I still have much to learn.”

“No. I won’t blame you. …There must be a reason I was called a heretic, after all.”

I laughed bitterly at myself, but Irian shook his head.

“No. Listening to your outcry just now, I realized something. Your philosophy is noble. It’s a truth reached only by those who truly worry for the future of our people. I can’t help but respect you for having thought so far ahead.”

His eyes made it clear he was sincere.

In them burned that same strange fervor as before—an intensity almost like yearning.

“You’re right. My personal grudges don’t matter. The teachings of the forest, the teachings of El Redarel, never wished for us elves to remain so foolish.”

In his words of self-reproach, I could feel a new strength.

“Eldmir, I want to learn from you. Not just me, but every elf in this village!”

“Uh… isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not at all!”

Bang!

He slammed both hands on the table.

The sound was so loud I wanted to ask if his palms were okay.

Suddenly, Irian had become an overwhelming figure, staring at me with eyes full of reverence.

“I told you, didn’t I? Thanks to you, I’ve opened my eyes! And it’s not just me—your words speak to all elves! I want to spread your message to every elf in this village, no, to the elves of El Rel itself!”

El Rel—the village at the very heart of the forest.

In other words, the village that directly guarded the World Tree.

“No, no, don’t get carried away. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’d rather it happen gradually. If change happens too quickly, it could backfire.”

If philosophy shifted too suddenly, people might reject it altogether.

Not that I was really some philosopher. But better to consider the risks.

“Well… thank you for saying that. Truly. Until now, no one’s ever sympathized with my ideas like you just did.”

Honestly, I was surprised.

I had fully expected Irian to dismiss me as a heretic like Istein and the others.

Yet here he was, supporting and empathizing with me this much.

I couldn’t help but feel bewildered, yet happy.

As I scratched my cheek awkwardly, I heard a quiet voice beside me.

“You’ve never explained yourself like this before. How could anyone have sympathized?”

“……”

“……”

“……”

Ah, damn.

Mother’s sulking again.