When he heard this, the mayor scowled in displeasure. “Well, I agree that if some people aren’t replanting, then that is a breach of the agreement. But we’re still doing some replanting, and it’s not actually harming you elves directly in any way. They’re causing all this trouble for such trifle?”
“It’s not trifle as far as elves are concerned,” Alaina explained.
The mayor scowled deeper. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure how to explain this... It’s hard to put it into words, but we elves... We just can’t let it happen.”
“How am I supposed to understand if you won’t explain?”
“It makes sense to me,” I interrupted while Alaina struggled. “It’s not a great comparison, but everyone here knows about demons, right? Enemies of creation, seekers of absolute destruction? So ask yourselves this: why do demons seek destruction? If you asked a demon to explain it, you’d probably get a similar answer. Likewise, if a demon asked you why we don’t seek destruction, all you’d really be able to say is ‘we don’t want to be destroyed,’ right? If pressed further... Well, I think you’d come to the same sort of impasse. But even if it’s impossible for us to fully articulate ourselves, we can still try to understand one another. And what we can’t understand, we can still try to accept. That includes the elves’ feelings for the forest. The important thing isn’t understanding why the forest is important to the elves, but rather respecting that it is important to the elves.”
“Hmm...” I wasn’t sure if he accepted that or not, but the mayor cast a momentary glance at the table where Alaina was cowering. “Even if that’s how elves feel about the forest, why breach the accord now, after over a century?”
“That’s more than a lifetime to you humans... But we elves are long-lived, and quite a few of us were alive when the accord was forged. Our elders can recall what life was like before then as children. To us, it wasn’t that long ago. But I suspect that the reason Tessius’s group has begun taking action is due to more than just their change in leadership.”
“I agree there,” added Zelgadis. “Tessius isn’t the type to act without any hope of victory. Something has lit a fire underneath him. But that means we need to be especially cautious for now.”
“In case they get serious?” MacLyle asked.
Zel nodded. “Tessius’s group might see it this way: ‘Zelgadis, the one who told us to be circumspect in our actions, was a traitor. The best way to strike a blow against our enemy is to do the opposite of what the traitor wanted—make a big move immediately.’”
“But aren’t elves, as a race... peaceful, chivalrous, and pacifistic?” Randa asked, his voice trembling.
I couldn’t deny that the methods of Tessius’s gang were pretty far from the image most humans had of elves. I’d fought alongside an elf against demons not long ago myself, so I had feelings about tangling with their kind right now too.
“There are good and bad humans,” I put in, “so it only makes sense that elves come in the same flavors. There are those who abide the law and those who scorn it, those who spurn conflict and those who crave it. Oh, and there’s also a stereotype that humans are stronger and tougher than elves. While that isn’t wrong per se, it’s definitely a generalization. Moreover, they’re formidable foes when it comes to magic. The night they kidnapped Amelia, for instance, the reason everyone in the guesthouse fell so fast asleep is probably because it was a souped-up Sleeping spell courtesy of elf magic. A human sorcerer could never cast it over such a wide area, and it’d be virtually impossible to use on people who were on high alert. They have more powerful versions of any spells we know, plus some that we’ve never even seen before. In fact, we ended up in a little scuffle with the Forest Hounds on our way back to town with Amelia too. They had a spell that could nullify all fire magic, and one to grow animated vines from what looked like throwing knives. Alaina, do you have any idea what those spells are?”
“Let’s see... The one that prevented your fire magic is a modification of a spell used to put out forest fires. The things that looked like throwing knives are seeds of a plant known as a ballud, designed to sprout and grow quickly when a spell is cast on them.”
The room briefly went silent as she spelled it all out so casually. Anyone who didn’t know much about magic was probably just confused, but those who knew what was what were truly taken aback. Modifying a fire-extinguishing spell to negate all fire magic? Easier said than done. Even humans could come up with ways to cancel out individual spells, but generally speaking, you couldn’t suppress multiple spells in a row over a broad area without a magic circle that required a major ritual, or a crapload of magic items.
But the bigger surprise was the fast-growing seeds. To facilitate something like that, you’d need to provide consistent moisture and energy to stimulate growth, which required very complex and delicate control. And to manage that all in the blink of an eye... To be blunt, it was inhuman. We didn’t have that kind of magic power, much less that speed or precision. Meanwhile, Tessius and his band were chucking those spells around willy-nilly.
That’s really the scariest part. Even spells like that are parlor tricks to them. If they start channeling that magic talent into true combat application...
Just then—Bwoom!—a heavy sound shook the room. Everyone froze up as they looked around.
“I’ll see what that was! The rest of you, wait here!” one of the Zephilia soldiers at the door announced as he ran out. We could hear armored footsteps resound down the hall before swiftly returning with a companion.
“Reporting in!” the newly arrived soldier announced in a voice close to a cry. “The city was hit with an attack!” Not a second later—Bwoom!—another roar echoed out. The mayor turned pale, and the soldier clarified, “Correction! The city is still being hit!”
They’re here already?! While the mayor just sat there, white as a sheet, Gourry, me, Zel, and Amelia ran straight out of the room.