IRE 20

chapter 20

“Calm down, Mother. It’s not like I want to get hurt.”

“That’s why I’m telling you to be more careful. Honestly, what sane person thinks it makes sense to take on eight War Hammers all by himself? You should have run.”

“Eight War Hammers?!”

The beastkin sisters let out a shrill scream.

Judging by their faces, they clearly hadn’t known about that until now.

“Heh, heh, heh. Now do you see how amazing I am?”

I tried to act smug, expecting what would come next, but it didn’t work at all.

Esrin cried out in shock.

“Heavens above, are you insane?! You fought eight War Hammers?!”

“Yes, yes, this child is so reckless that he fought them all alone,” Mother added.

“Alone? Eldmir, how are you even alive?!”

…And now they were treating me like a ghost.

I knew it would turn out like this. Damn it.

“Hey, hey, don’t make such a fuss. I’m standing here alive, aren’t I? That’s what matters.”

“What do you mean ‘don’t make a fuss’? And alive my foot! Your clothes are soaked through with blood!”

At her words, I checked myself again. Sure enough, she was right.

I hadn’t noticed because I wasn’t feeling any pain, but once I became aware of it, the ache began to creep back in.

The pain itself wasn’t the worst part—it was the thought of having to redo the bandages that felt like such a hassle.

Cold sweat trickled down my back, but I forced myself to look calm.

“Just calm down. The important thing is that I’m alive, and they’re all dead. I won. Got it?”

“…Good heavens.”

I emphasized that I had won, that I had taken them all down.

Half of them had actually been finished off by the other Sentinels, but since I had handled most of the fight, it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Esrin and the beastkin sisters could only stare up at me as though I were some kind of specter.

I turned away from their looks and glared at Mother.

Why’d you have to tell them all that useless stuff?

Then do better next time if you don’t want this to happen.

We exchanged glances like that, and I finally sighed.

Whoever said children always win against their parents was wrong.

How could a child ever win against a parent?

With just a word, a mother could still hold her son in check.

“Anyway, you get it, right? I’m kind of a big deal. So don’t worry about anything and just stay put here. I’m just going to step out for a bit to talk with someone.”

Leaving those words behind, I subtly signaled to Irian.

Standing a step back, Irian nodded and opened the door.

Just as I was about to follow him out, Keris called after me.

“Um, Eldmir.”

“Hm?”

She hesitated a moment before speaking.

“Actually… we heard you. The things you shouted outside.”

“…Seriously?”

So they’d heard all that noise?

I felt a little embarrassed, and tried to recall if I’d shouted anything unnecessary.

Her face flushed slightly as she muttered,

“…Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“I said thank you. The truth is, we mean nothing to you. To you, we were probably just another group of enemies passing by.”

She lowered her head, voice barely louder than a mosquito’s.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mother gesturing toward the door as she left.

Her glance told me to handle this gently, and I quietly nodded.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?”

“Ugh…! I’m trying to thank you, and you—!”

Keris suddenly lifted her head, her face as red as a ripe tomato.

“You’re the strange one! That elf was right—we are your enemies. Even now, beastkin could be fighting your people somewhere out there. Not everyone is going to treat us as… as ‘guests’ like you do!”

“Well, I don’t think what I did was anything extraordinary. I’d like to believe that anyone else could have done the same, since it was within my power to do so.”

I stepped closer to her, resting a hand on her head, ruffling her hair a bit roughly.

“Eep.”

Her ears twitched upright at my touch.

The slight tremor of her tensed muscles pressed against my palm and fingers.

Surprisingly soft, though.

“If something I do can carry meaning for someone else, then that’s enough for me. What seems like nothing more than me saying, ‘Let’s do this,’ might be real ‘help’ to you.”

“…How can you think that way?”

“Think what way?”

“That. What if the same thing that happened to that elf’s parents happens to your loved ones, because of us? Aren’t you afraid of that?”

Her wide eyes trembled with unease, like a child afraid of being scolded.

“Hah…”

I chuckled lowly, wondering how best to answer.

This frail girl, so thoughtful yet burdened with worry—how could I comfort her?

“Keris, you don’t need to carry the sins of your people.”

“…!”

I crouched a bit to meet her eyes directly.

She looked startled, but then returned my gaze quietly.

Looking into her eyes, I could see it clearly: the crushing weight she bore, the way she was nearly tearing herself apart with guilt and pressure.

She was just like me, once—tormented endlessly by the past.

“You’re royalty simply because you’re strong, because you’re a War Beast. That’s all it is. And if not? Well, your own people proved what happens. Despite that, you feel this overwhelming sense of responsibility.”

Her people had already betrayed her once.

Driven by instinct, they turned on the weak, baring fangs to prove their strength.

And yet she still thought and acted as a princess.

Even now, she called herself the princess of a fallen race, binding herself in chains of duty.

But she wasn’t at fault.

Her people had turned their fangs on her too—she was as much a victim as anyone.

Still, she carried their sins like they were her own.

“Listen, little one. Whether you regain divine power or rebuild your people, that’s up to you. But I know this much.”

“….”

“Don’t let responsibility consume you. Their sins are theirs alone, not yours. What you need isn’t to waste your heart on them—it’s to look after yourself.”

“….”

“Think carefully about what truly matters to you. Find what you believe has value. Find the source of your own happiness. Maybe it’s your sisters. Maybe it’s a dream you don’t even know yet. If your dream really is to restore your people, then… sure, you can shoulder some responsibility for that.”

Straightening up, I gently patted her shoulder.

“You stubbornly kind girl, it’s okay to be selfish sometimes. Just like I help you for my own reasons, you should include yourself in your own principles.”

“….”

I glanced at her sisters—Ercy, Esrin, and Ketrit—smiling faintly at each one.

“Am I afraid? Of course I am. Even now, your people might be fighting and killing my kin.”

Keris flinched at that, and I felt it through my hand.

I patted her shoulder again before withdrawing.

“But so what? You’re not them. You won’t do that, right? Then it’s fine. What’s there to worry about?”

They were separate. Her people were not her.

And she, along with her sisters, could be my friends.

That’s what I told her.

“Does that answer your question? I hope so.”

With those final words, I ruffled her hair once more and left the room.

She remained behind, touching the place where my hand had been, staring at the space I’d disappeared into.

Her face burned scarlet, her head buried in her arms as though to hide the blush.

Irian and Mother were already seated, deep in conversation.

I’d asked them to wait, but it seemed I had taken longer than expected.

Irian caught my eye as I sat beside Mother and gave me a small nod.

“What were you talking about?” I asked.

“She was explaining how we came across Keris and her sisters, and why we’re treating them as guests,” Mother replied.

“Ah, so you started from there.”

So they hadn’t told him anything while I was unconscious those two days. Typical.

I clicked my tongue silently and sat down.

Irian looked at me intently.

“Eldmir, I won’t insist on slaughtering the beastkin. They may be the kin of my parents’ murderers, but as you said, that’s only my personal grudge. To you, they may be nothing more than guests you’ve chosen to shelter.”

That declaration—that he would set aside old grudges—gave me a glimmer of hope that our talk might go well.

Irian continued,

“That’s why I want to hear your thoughts again. If I, holding personal grudges, struggle to accept them, surely the other elves will not be much different. Even if they have no personal vendetta, there is the matter of longstanding relations with the beastkin. Eldmir, why is it that you could welcome them as guests?”

His eyes locked on mine, earnest and unyielding.

A fair question.

The fact that El Rienne’s three sentinels opposed Keris’s group and failed to understand me wasn’t coincidence.

Nor was it due to bad temperament.

It was simply natural, in a world where such reactions were the default.

“Your concern is valid. To other elves, I probably look insane, leading enemies into the forest.”

I nodded to acknowledge his point.

“Enemies have no place as our guests. If we mishandle this, we could endanger our village, our kin, even the World Tree itself.”

I let out a dry laugh.

Half bitter, half mocking myself.

“But my view is different from yours. Taken as a whole, yes, the beastkin are our enemies. That can’t be denied. But saying these girls are our enemies just because they’re beastkin? That’s not right.”

I met Irian’s gaze head-on.

“Thanks to the Sentinels, the forest has been kept safe. I don’t take that for granted. I know full well we owe centuries of peace to their sacrifices. But tell me—why is it that all we ever do is defend?”

Irian’s brows furrowed.

“Defend only? What are you saying?”

“It’s always one of two things: defend, or strike back with retaliation. Is that really worthy of elves—supposedly the symbol of harmony? Doesn’t it seem… barbaric?”

“What nonsense… Our pride is written in history. We tried countless times to share teachings with other races, we spared invaders mercy, we even spread the blessings of the forest beyond its borders. And yet you disparage our way?”

His voice had risen in agitation, but after a breath, he calmed, speaking more evenly.

“Such words insult our entire race. To say such things is to deny your own identity as an elf.”

His voice was sharp and clear, but there was no hostility—only the determination to counter my argument with reason.

Naturally. His reaction came from hearing his own beliefs challenged.

But I shook my head.

“You misunderstand me. I may be young, not even having undergone my coming-of-age yet, but I too was raised under the teachings of the forest. I know the mercy elves extend to our enemies. But still—”

Should I say it?

Doubt flickered within me.

This was a thought I’d carried for twenty years, growing up in this village. A doubt, a conflict, about what it meant to be an elf.

A thought so dangerous others would laugh it off as absurd.

But for the first time, I began to voice it aloud.

“What I mean is… we’re elves, aren’t we? Not beastkin, not orcs, but a people who hold harmony as our highest virtue.”

And at last, the frustration I’d bottled up all these years spilled out.

“So then, how did we become such a closed-off race?”