IRE 43

chapter 43

So this is what they call the strongest Sentinel of the village. A tingling energy pressed against me, and a cold sweat ran down my back.

“Atracal, calm down first. You’re way too worked up right now. Is that how an elder speaks? That’s just bullying.”

The word bullying seemed to strike a nerve, and the fierce energy he had been radiating faltered for a moment.

He looked at Isritrin, but she simply stared back at him as if daring him to do anything.

Even in front of the village’s strongest Sentinel, she carried herself with the fearless confidence of a true elder—a model for the older generation.

“…Don’t get ahead of yourself. The person I’m talking to is Eldmir.”

“Exactly! That’s hardly the attitude of someone expecting an answer. That’s the posture of someone trying to punch another! I’m warning you—step away from Eld, and tone down that murderous aura. Otherwise, I won’t stand idly by either.”

Unflinching, Atracal groaned. After glaring at Eldmir for a moment, he finally backed off several steps.

“I swear to El Ldarel, I got a bit too excited, but I never intended to lay a hand on him…”

“I know, I know, great elder. You’re not the kind of disgraceful Sentinel who would strike a child. You’re just… old enough to have too much anger you can’t control.”

“Astritrin…”

Atracal murmured her name in a groan. Meanwhile, the last elder, who had been quietly observing, chuckled and spoke in a teasing tone.

“And that’s not all. It’s still pitiful to see our village’s top elder mentally stuck in the past.”

After chuckling, Atracal glared at him, muttering in despair:

“I can’t believe this guy is the last friend I have left. I should have gone to El Luel when the others left.”

“Ha! Ha! Who told anyone to live so long and become a nuisance?”

The laughing elder ignored the sarcasm and smiled brightly at Eldmir. Wrinkles deepened across his face as his smile widened.

“Right, Eldmir. Ignore that senile old man and come over here. Let’s continue what we couldn’t finish talking about.”

His name was Ashira. One of the village elders, Ashira was among the few who could speak freely even to Atracal, the highest elder. Unlike most village elves, he had a boisterous sense of humor.

Before Eldmir was labeled a heretic—and even afterward—Ashira would occasionally visit, exchanging trivial jokes while treating him with the same warm familiarity. He was more like a grandfather figure than an elder sitting in a formal position.

“Yes.”

Eldmir quietly walked past Atracal and sat next to Isritrin and Ashira.

“Iris, bring your friends over. There’s plenty of room,” Ashira called.

Iris was delighted and moved to lead the Keris sisters when Atracal spoke in a chilling voice:

“I won’t allow those beasts in here until I hear a satisfactory explanation.”

Isritrin frowned, but Atracal simply stared silently.

“…That stubbornness. Fine. Let’s see about that.”

Iris reluctantly stepped back, holding the Keris sisters.

Atracal, now seated, fixed Eldmir with a piercing gaze.

“Explain. Give us a reason we can accept.”

Eldmir swallowed dryly. Regardless of Atracal’s posture, telling this story required considerable resolve. He clenched his fists, then loosened them, and began speaking.

All the explanations were finished.

From the start of the story to its end, my voice was the only sound in the hall, as if all other noises had been silenced. When I finished, only silence remained.

Even Isritrin, who was like a grandmother to me, sat silently, deep in thought. Atracal and Ashira, too, remained quiet, filling the hall with stillness.

I continued to stare silently at the table. Occasionally, a breeze carrying the scent of the forest brushed against my cheeks, but no one broke the silence.

Finally, the silence was broken by the voice of the highest elder.

“So.”

“….”

“There were traitors among the Dark Elves in the forest, causing you to lose your mother… and the elves of the village Chitaen mean you will now become an enemy of the forest. Is that correct?”

I hadn’t yet shared everything. I had told them about meeting the Keris sisters with my mother, leaving the forest, battles with the War Hammers, and the identity of Chitaen, including Irian. But I hadn’t mentioned the third hidden dark force. That story would come eventually, but not yet—it had to happen naturally.

“Yes.”

“Did Esyria’s funeral go well?”

“…Yes.”

“Have you sensed Artir’s presence before?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

The old man sighed deeply, looking up at the sky in dismay.

“…How can such things exist in the world.”

“…You believe me?”

He glanced at me and said:

“I may never have liked you, but that doesn’t mean I’d let prejudice affect how I judge the story you tell now. And I know you are not someone who would lie.”

“….”

Even if I lied, it would be their responsibility to discern it, not mine. He simply acknowledged that.

His quiet gaze fell on me. Despite some lingering dissatisfaction, I could sense genuine trust in his eyes.

“Er.”

Grandmother Isritrin took my hand, looking at me warmly.

“Er, my poor child… you’ve been through so much.”

“…Grandmother.”

“It’s okay. I understand, truly. I understand what you want to say, how you feel.”

The woman who raised me since childhood, who watched over me alongside my mother, spoke:

“It’s alright… You have no reason to be sad, Er. No reason to blame yourself. Feel anger instead. None of this is your fault.”

“…Yes, grandmother.”

“Look… my child, you’ve grown.”

She smiled gently, placing her hand on my cheek. It was the first time I felt such warmth since my mother’s passing.

I bit back the tears, knowing now was not the time to falter.

“Grandmother, don’t get sentimental too,” said Elder Ashira in a low voice, rubbing his chin, looking troubled.

“From what I hear, the elves’ forest faces its greatest crisis and calamity yet. Now is not the time for sentimentality. How did such foul things come to live openly in our forest? El Luel, your subjects are shameful beyond measure.”

El Luel, El Ldarel—same person.

“This is no trivial matter. None of it is trivial,” Atracal sighed deeply.

“Eldmir, as I said, you are no longer a child. As an adult, you must take responsibility for your words. I trust you understand that.”

“Of course.”

“Good… I have just one question.”

I tensed, waiting for it.

“Those beastfolk,” Atracal said, pointing at the Keris sisters.

“You said they will be salvation to the elves, the first step toward unity with other races, a symbol of that. I understand that part. But do you really think all elves can accept it?”

“….”

“You can’t answer because you know it’s impossible, right?”

I had no response.

“You’ve always been seen as unorthodox among elves. Your actions dismissed as eccentricities, your beliefs making you a heretic.”

“Those are consequences of my own choices.”

True, but I never resented the villagers. As I told Keris, all that was simply my karma.

Even though they called me a heretic, no one truly hated me. Elves don’t hate their own. At worst, they thought of me as odd.

“Even for me, I must admit it’s hard to understand you emotionally. Logically, yes, but not emotionally. And I doubt the realization of your ideas is even possible.”

That was his honest feeling, spoken to me despite the enormous age gap.

“Punish the traitors? Urgent, yes, but secondary. Friendship with beastfolk to break racial isolation… noble in intent. But Eldmir, we’ve already crossed too many paths. Too late. Emotional divides are too deep. Our hatred cannot bridge theirs.”

His eyes reflected the battlefield—the forest burning, lives lost, beauty fading. Those moments of anger and resentment shaped the world he remembered.

I had not seen war firsthand; I could not dismiss his memories lightly. Who could tell a war veteran to forgive enemies lightly?

Yet I spoke.

“Elder, as you said, we elves have lived that way for ages. Harmony turned to isolation; the forest’s teachings tainted by traitors. Even without them, we grew accustomed to battle, war, destruction… things that clash with the forest spirit.”

To protect the forest meant constant battle. Peace would require the defeat of other races.

“We cannot go on like this. No matter how strong we are, isolation has its limits.”

Destruction, either ours or another’s. Either way, inevitable. Right now, the target is clear.

“But even saying this… as you said, my words are just logically sound arguments, not enough to persuade you.”

Atracal had admitted he could understand me logically but not emotionally.

“I won’t preach forgetting grudges or looking to the future. But I want you to understand one thing.”

I stood and walked slowly. Ahead was Keris.

Seeing me approach, Keris stiffened, though quickly realized my intention. It was not fear or refusal, but tension and resolve.

I smiled at her, and she slowly relaxed her expression.