the root by the explosion, leaving not a single strand behind.

“Kyaaah!” Ujicha let out a high-pitched scream as he experienced a pain the likes of which he had never felt before in his life.

The smooth-shaven Ujicha fell to the ground, but he didn’t manage to land on his feet.
Eugene raised another gust of wind that lifted Ujicha back into the air.

“L-let go of me!” Ujicha demanded as he tried to somehow wrestle himself free of the wind’s grap.

Ujicha’s core churned as he squeezed all he could out of his mana and earnestly prayed to the spirits that had granted him their protection.
In addition to that, he even activated the battle sorcery of the Garung tribe.

The Garung tribe’s battle sorcery borrowed the power of the soul.
It could be seen as a kind of necromancy.
It wasn’t just the Garung — there were several tribes that used this type of battle sorcery that was derived from necromancy, and the techniques that Ujicha used weren’t anything uncommon to Samar.

But it was something that in Eugene’s opinion shouldn’t be used.
Eugene felt the souls that were being drawn to Ujicha.
It was similar to how black magic could summon resentful spirits and completely erase the selves from their past lives.

‘How disgusting,’ Eugene thought with a scowl.

Eugene hated this type of sorcery because of how much it resembled black magic.
As such, he didn’t feel the need to show any mercy.
After all, his opponent wasn’t someone who deserved mercy in this first place.
This bastard was the one who had tried to attack him unprovoked.

“Uwaaagh!”

Dajarang covered his ears, his body trembling as he tried to block out the screams that were coming from above his head.
There was also crackling and popping as Ujicha’s bones were forcibly twisted.
Ujicha quickly started screaming for mercy, causing Dajarang to recall a memory from just a few days ago that he had earnestly hoped never to recall.

It was the memory of the monster that had torn Bron into two pieces with such ease.
Their bestial eyes that had flashed gold from beneath their hood, and the sharp fangs that appeared each time the monster’s lips curled up into a smile.

‘I-I just want to go back,’ Dajarang desperately prayed. ‘Back to my home… to Shimuin….’


The sound of Ujicha’s screams began to fade away.
It wasn’t because the screams had stopped; instead, the source of the screams was quickly flying away from Dajarng.

Would a human be able to survive having their limbs twisted like a pretzel and then being thrown into the distance? Even if fate somehow allowed them to survive, how would they be able to continue living in this savage forest with a body that couldn’t move on its own?

But none of that mattered to Eugene.
He packed the jewelry boxes inside of his cloak, then he returned to the cart.

“May you have a peaceful death,” Kristina prayed in the direction that Ujicha had flown with her hands clasped in front of her.

These words felt like a nasty joke to Eugene, he sneered and said, “It’s ridiculous to expect a peaceful death for him.
If he somehow manages to survive, he’s in for a fate worse than death; and even if he gets lucky and dies as soon as he hits the ground, he’ll still have to suffer all that pain before he dies.”

“However, after his death, he may find peace,” Kristina responded with a soft smile.

Yep, she was just as twisted as expected.

As he hid such a thought, Eugene grabbed hold of the reins.
With a rattle, the cart began to move.

The elves were completely silent, not even daring to breathe.
However, even as they did their best to not attract attention, they were glancing over at Dajarang who was still kneeling on the ground.
The elves, who had become accustomed to being persecuted while being sold as slaves, felt an unfamiliar pleasure when they saw this human noble kneeling on the ground and pleading for his life, still not daring to raise his head.

The same went for Lavera.
She touched the scarred pit that had once been her right eye before it was stabbed out with a sword by her former master and then cauterized.
An unfamiliar heat was burning in her eye socket.
Heat of a completely different kind from the pain that she had felt when she was burned.

‘…How cool,’ Lavera thought to herself as she stared at Eugene’s back with a passionate eye.

* * *

“…I think that you should probably head west,” Signard said vaguely.

“Your words don’t sound very certain,” Eugene critiqued.

“It can’t be helped.
I told you that I haven’t been able to properly retain the memories,” Signard grumbled with a frown.
“All that’s left of my memories are… a few fragmented recollections.
Solely relying on those, I wandered around desperately searching for our domain.”

“If that’s the case, then why don’t we just go looking for it together?” Eugene offered, his head tilted to the side in question.

Signard didn’t answer right away.
After staring at Eugene for a few moments, he grinned and shook his head.

“Of course I can’t do that.
Because I don’t know what might happen while I’m away from the village,” Signard explained.

Although it was the first time that Eugene had made this offer, he had already expected that Signard would reply in such a manner.
The fairy trees’ barrier wasn’t absolute.
The reason why this village built for the wandering elves had lasted for all these years was because Signard cut down all the intruders who attempted to approach it.

“…In the recent years, I’ve been coming in more frequent contact with the dark elves,” Signard muttered as he stroked the sword at his side.
“Every time they draw near, I catch, interrogate and execute them.
By doing so, I’ve been able to keep abreast of the situation.
I’ve heard that the Corruptor, Iris, has been trying to infect more of the elves with her corruption in order to secure her position.”

“…” Eugene listened silently.

“Isn’t it funny? That girl is a monster — no, she’s a piece of shit that shouldn’t even exist.
So much so that it’s even hard to believe that we were once the same race, much less belonging to the same nation.
After being responsible for massacring so many elves three hundred years ago, does she really think she can just take the remaining elves into her embrace at this point?”

Creak.

Signard gripped the hilt of his sword tightly as he ground his teeth.
“I can’t trust her word.
Iris and her dark elves say that they are only making the wandering elves an ‘offer’, but there is no way that’s the truth.
They must be intimidating those poor elves and forcibly turning them into dark elves.
If the elves refuse to accept the offer, then they would surely be killed.
What would happen if the dark elves were to come… while I was absent from the village?”

Signard had taken part in the war three hundred years ago.
He was one of the few survivors left among the elven rangers.
In a forest that had been set on fire by Iris, he had seen hundreds of corpses belonging to elves who had had their intestines pulled out.
This scene had burned itself into Signard’s brain, becoming an unshakeable memory that had haunted him for the past hundreds of years.

“…If we do manage to find the elven territory, then it might help you to overcome your trauma,” Eugene said with a bitter smile.
“After all, since no one had been able to find it for hundreds of years, it should still be at peace.”

“…Yes, that’s right,” Signard muttered as he loosened his tight grip on the hilt of his sword.

“If we aren’t able to find it, then don’t feel too disappointed,” Eugene continued.
“It might not be as large as Samar, but the forest at our main estate is also pretty large.
It wouldn’t make a noticeable difference even if a hundred or so elves started living within it.”


“…More than that, it should be much safer,” Signard sighed as he looked at Eugene with a relieved expression.
“…Thank you, Hamel.”

Eugen tried to brush him off, “What are you saying all of sudden?”

“…Because if you hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have had any hope of safely bringing the elves to leave this village.
As such I must express my gratitude,” Signard explained sincerely.

“Well, what else can I say,” Eugene accepted this thanks with a snort and stood up.
“So anyway.
I should just go west from here….
Is there anything else?”

“Since hundreds of years have passed, all of the landmarks should also have changed,” Signard admitted with a shrug.

“Useless bastard,” Eugene scoffed.

“…While heading west, pay close attention to the leaf.
If you do that, then you should probably be able to find your way into the territory.” Signard lowered his gaze and let out a sigh.
“…I’m afraid that I have no other advice for you.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.
I’ll set off immediately.” Eugene patted Signard on the shoulder and left the hut.

Kristina was already waiting for him at the entrance to the village.

After offering a bow to Signard, who had followed behind Eugene, she turned to Eugene and asked, “Are we heading out now?”

“Yep,” Eugene confirmed with a nod.

Kristina wasn’t the only one waiting for them at the entrance.
All of the elves who lived in this village had come out to see them off.
It seemed that there were believers who worshiped the god of light among them, as some of the elves put their hands together and raised a prayer to Kristina.

No, it wasn’t just Kristina.
Several elves were also looking at Eugene with expectant eyes.

Such gazes weren’t unfamiliar to him.

‘It’s heavy,’ Eugene thought to himself.

Whether it was in the past or the present, such gazes that were full of expectation felt unbearably heavy.
But did the elves have any option other than praying earnestly for Eugene and Kristina’s success? They had to know that his village wasn’t guaranteed to stay safe.
So they couldn’t help but hang their expectations onto Eugene and Kristina.

As he looked around, Eugen recalled something, ‘Vermouth….’

Narissa was sobbing and crying as she said goodbye.
Though they’d only been traveling together for a few days, she seemed to have developed a crush on him.
Even as she cried, she was looking at Eugene with admiration in her tearful eyes.

Lavella was also looking at him with eyes similar to Narissa’s.

Finishing the thought, Eugene asked his old friend, ‘…Did all this feel even heavier for you than it does for me?’

Everyone calling him a hero and having to bear everyone’s expectations.
No matter where he went, those who recognized Vermouth would always ask him to save the world, defeat the Demon Kings, and avenge the deaths of their children, parents, and friends.

“I would hate to be a hero,” Eugene unconsciously spat out his true feelings.

“…Huh?” Kristina turned to Eugene with a puzzled expression.

“That’s just the way I feel,” Eugene muttered with a shrug.

Openbookworm's Thoughts

OBW: Auto-correct tried to change Ujicha into Uji-chan.
Now I have an image in my head of a smoothly shaven seven foot tall barbarian dressed in a schoolgirl uniform.
You’re welcome everybody.

penguin’s thoughts: I am not using wax.
Ever.

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