Chapter 3

“Beastkin? Why would they be here?”

—Who knows. Maybe they’re looking for a new settlement, or maybe they were just passing through.

What nonsense.

Eldmir, who had muttered a curse without realizing it, was immediately scolded by the raccoon spirit.

—Elves don’t use that kind of language.

“Since when did you care about that? Anyway, tell me properly. How big are they?”

—Why are you so worked up all of a sudden?

The raccoon spirit flinched as Eldmir lunged forward.

Ignoring him, Eldmir grabbed the raccoon spirit and shouted with a flushed face.

“Tell me, quickly!”

—Ugh, damn it.

The raccoon struggled in his grasp for a moment before glaring sharply.

—Let me go, will you?

“Answer me first.”

—Oh, really now.

How scary could a raccoon spirit possibly be?

Feeling playful, Eldmir rubbed the spirit’s cheeks roughly, making it twitch in disgust.

—Oh, for crying out loud.

Whoosh!

The raccoon spirit suddenly flared up in flames and disappeared, only to re-manifest a short distance away like a spark reigniting.

Though fire had burst from Eldmir’s hands, the flames of a spirit only burn what they choose to.

The newly re-formed raccoon spirit glared at Eldmir.

—Calm down already. Why is an elf so interested in matters outside the village?

“Because I’m a rebel.”

—What a boast. That’s why you can’t form a contract with a spirit.

“If you’re not going to make a contract with me, don’t bring that up. So… where did those beastkin come from? This might be a backwater, but this is still the World Tree’s forest. Anyone thinking of settling here would have to be prepared for the consequences.”

Eldmir’s village might be small, but things were different closer to the World Tree’s heart.

If beastkin even hinted at trying to settle here, the central authorities would act immediately. To claim land in this forest was nothing short of madness.

—I don’t know yet. I don’t even know how many of them there are. Most likely it’s just a small group passing by, but nothing’s certain. That’s why Eshiria didn’t even bother asking for my help.

“Really?”

Excited, Eldmir began strapping his gear back on.

The raccoon spirit frowned.

—And where do you think you’re going? You haven’t even gone through your coming-of-age ceremony.

“They say no one in the village can keep up with me.”

—So what? You’re still half a man without a contract. What help could you possibly be?

“Ha, one of our ancestors killed a flying dragon with nothing but a bow. I may not be that great, but I can more than hold my own. Don’t stop me.”

—As if. You’d be crushed with a single puff of my breath…

Ignoring the raccoon’s grumbling, Eldmir rushed outside and began to run.

His speed as he sprinted through the forest was astonishing, almost cheetah-like.

When he reached a denser area, he leapt powerfully upward, landing on massive branches. The trees of the World Tree’s forest, said to have existed since the dawn of time, were immense, with even the lowest branches growing ten meters above the ground.

Eldmir bounded from branch to branch, sometimes vaulting off treetops in acrobatic leaps.

—Unbelievable. You’re ridiculously fast.

The raccoon spirit grumbled at his retreating figure before once again burning itself away and reappearing at Eldmir’s side.

—Hey, rebel elf.

Keeping pace with him in flight, the raccoon spoke. Eldmir shot it a sidelong glance.

“What.”

—Do you even know which direction to go?

“It’s this way.”

The raccoon narrowed its eyes.

—And how exactly do you know that?

“Look, just because I never made a contract with you doesn’t mean I can’t communicate with nature. I just ask the forest, and it answers. Why would I get lost?”

—…Communicate with the forest?

“Didn’t I mention that before?”

—You lunatic. Only High Elves can directly communicate with the forest!

The raccoon spirit’s outburst left Eldmir grimacing.

“Really?”

—Of course! Have you ever heard any other villager say they talked to the forest itself?

“No, but they always say things like communing with nature, or talking to it.”

—That’s a metaphor for communicating with us! Unbelievable… Are you sure you’re even an elf? You mentioned Eldrasyc earlier and act like you’re a real High Elf or something.

Eldrasyc—an elven hero, a High Elf, and the one said to have shot down a flying dragon with his bow.

(For reference, a dragon’s flight speed is near supersonic.)

—When did you even start hearing the forest? You didn’t used to!

“I don’t know… but it’s only been about a week.”

—Insane. The one who can’t form contracts because he lacks the forest’s spirit is suddenly hearing the forest’s voice? What trick is Elrdarel playing at?

In truth, it was probably because Eldmir had set his latent stats to “maximum” before reincarnating. But even he silently admitted the raccoon’s suspicion wasn’t unreasonable.

His growth rate was beyond absurd.

Back in the game, even with maxed latent stats, childhood was so difficult that most players repeatedly died to weak monsters before growing stronger.

Everyone agreed the hardest part of the game was childhood—no exceptions, even for those with max stats.

But reality wasn’t the same as the game. Perhaps because he could truly feel the latent stats within this body, his growth had become extraordinary.

—Wait, and you never thought to mention this sooner?!

“Well, it started right before my coming-of-age ceremony. I figured it was normal for all elves. And is it really that big a deal? All elves descend from High Elves anyway. Maybe I just got some recessive genes late.”

—This crazy brat…

The raccoon’s face twisted in disbelief, while Eldmir only grinned.

“Watch your mouth. Spirits don’t use curses.”

—You little…!!

Eldmir laughed loudly at the spirit’s shrieking.

He’d always wanted to knock this arrogant spirit down a peg, and teasing him like this was satisfying.

The raccoon spirit had once been like others of his kind—cryptic, dignified, always speaking in riddles. But after living with Eldmir for over ten years, he’d grown blunt, raw, and unfiltered.

Though he called Eldmir a “rebel elf,” he himself had become nothing less than a “delinquent spirit.”

“Looks like we’re almost there.”

—What, did the forest whisper to you again?

“Yeah.”

—…

Of course, that was a lie.

The forest never whispered. Those capricious beings rarely answered, no matter how much you begged.

It was true they’d once told him his mother’s direction, but after that, it was purely his own tracking skills.

And even without that, his elven eyesight had already spotted his mother, Eshiria, in the distance.

Though still far away, Eldmir pushed himself to run faster.

As the trees thinned, he dropped to the ground and sprinted even harder—so fast the raccoon spirit couldn’t keep up.

The spirit cursed under its breath and stopped, instead burning itself away and reappearing beside Eldmir.

“Mother!”

A human wouldn’t have been able to hear him yet, but elven hearing carried his voice easily to her.

Her contracted spirit had already told her he was coming, so she greeted him calmly, waving with a warm smile.

In her other hand, she held a bow.

“Welcome, Elr. You’re as lively as ever.”

“Haha, always.”

Eshiria.

His “mother” in this world.

Though he loved her dearly, she had never felt entirely natural to him in the nearly twenty years since he arrived.

Who could have imagined that after serving his real mother for over thirty years, he’d gain another one in this world?

For someone who thought himself a dutiful son, the situation left only a sense of disconnect and guilt.

“Were you investigating alone?”

“Yes. The villagers will hear what they need from the forest, and besides, there wasn’t anything unusual to report.”

“Hmm, so they’re just passing through?”

“Seems so. Considering this is near the World Tree’s forest, they were careful. Likely they understand respect between races.”

Eldmir chuckled at that.

“Hahaha! Beastkin, showing respect? That’s like calling barbarians refined.”

He’d never played as beastkin, but he had played as a barbarian—the beastkin’s main rival race, always clashing violently with them.

Half-man, half-beast, they were little better than animals. They’d spit on elves and mock them as “pointy-ears” or “bow-huggers,” not treat them with courtesy.

But Eshiria’s smile turned stern.

“That’s not right, Eldmir. Beastkin are also children of the forest. As such, we owe them respect.”

“Children of the forest? Them?”

Eldmir’s face twisted oddly.

“They don’t treat the forest as a home, they treat it like a convenient toilet. They even built their own so-called kingdom elsewhere. They’re not of the forest.”

Perhaps once, long ago. But now, they were outcasts who had abandoned the forest.

“Oh my, is that so?”

Eshiria’s eyes widened in surprise.

Even after nearly a hundred years of life, she knew little of the world beyond the forest. She had wisdom as an elf, yes, but no knowledge of life outside.

Seeing her ignorance, Eldmir gave a bitter smile.

“Mother, I know elves value harmony and respect for the forest. But we need to be cautious of other races. If you saw what they did, you’d understand.”

—And how exactly do you know that?

Eldmir smirked at the raccoon spirit’s question.

“You really think I wouldn’t know?”

—Wait… ah.

The raccoon’s expression soured in realization.

—Right. There’s plenty to learn from the forest’s memory.

The words were muttered so softly even most elves wouldn’t have heard them—but Eldmir, unlike other elves, heard them clearly.

In truth, it wasn’t the forest’s memory at all—just his own experience as a veteran player who had cleared five different endings in two years.

But let the spirit believe what it wanted.