“I thought elves were too wise to become the Demon Lord’s puppets.”
“Indeed, traveler. We elves live for over a thousand years. How old would you say I am?”
“In terms of human age? About seventy.”
“Hah hah, yes... That would be the case if I were human. I’m actually 1200 years old. Elven society normally sees very slow progress. However, we took after human nations and united the elven clans to create a republic.”
“About five hundred years ago, if memory serves me right. The Fairy King Ulupano was at the center of that decision, I hear.”
“Correct. If you look past his occasional cheap flattery, Ulupano is a very wise ruler.”
We had met Ulupano on the day of our arrival at the Town of Yggdrasil, and he was very much a shallow flirt of an elf. Could you believe someone as frivolous as him was actually a high elf—that is, an existence superior to regular elves? His looks were stunning, however.
“And so, we formed a republic like those of humans. Created an administration and various forms of control. But we are elves, and we live much longer than humans. Can you guess the result?”
“Ah—those in power never leave?”
“Precisely. Young elves who want to build a career cannot do so, while all the higher posts are almost permanently held by the elderly. Our mistake was looking to humans for our choice in systems of government. Elves are generally laid-back, but being stuck in lowly positions for five hundred years is bound to frustrate the young. That’s how the Elven Liberation Front came to be.”
It made sense. Anyone would get frustrated being stuck at the bottom of society forever. It was a problem to be expected with long-lived species. The fairy king, a high elf, had a life span of five thousand years, while even regular elves didn’t show signs of aging until they were past the one-thousand-year mark. That explained the origin of the Elven Liberation Army.
“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Vivi, chief of Hufton.”
“Richie of Aryaka.”
“And I am Floortje.”
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Aryakan Crown Prince and Crown Princess Candidate! I am glad you’ve managed to escape the capital. In the name of the Elven Forest Republic, we welcome you to this village of Hufton.”
“Not to rush things, but we would like to stock up on supplies and have lunch.”
“Of course, of course! We will provide you with everything you need, free of charge, in apology for your unpleasant experience with those fools at the capital.”
“No, we’ll pay, Chief Vivi.”
“Please, there is no need. It would be a disgrace to my people to make a guest of the state pay after everything that’s happened.”
The chief appeared to be an older kind of elf with a strong sense of duty. I sensed I could trust him.
“Bark bark bark!!!” barked Barkus at the village entrance all of a sudden.
A long line of elven soldiers could be seen entering the village.
“Wh-What’s the meaning of this?!”
“Chief Vivi! We have orders from Chancellor Mickaël to seize the village hall for the needs of the Elven Liberation Army, as well as to arrest the Crown Prince and Crown Princess Candidate of the enemy nation of Aryaka and their maid! You would do well to cooperate!”
“I would never, you half-wits! Einus! Kenwood! Those fools are here! Show these youngsters the power of elven magic!”
“Gladly.”
“Time to get these impertinent brats out of here.”
Called over by the chief, two elderly elves with a dignified bearing came our way.
“There’s no need, elders,” I said.
“That’s right. Let us handle this, please,” added the prince.
“B-But we could not force our honorable guests to...”
I looked over to the Elven Liberation Army, a smile on my face.
“Trouble yourselves not. It is time for sumo.”
Elven troops spread out to encircle the village, readying their longbows.
“Hah hah! I am aware you caused a lot of trouble in the Town of Yggdrasil with some martial art you call ‘sumo.’ But you stand no chance against a rain of arrows! Now, surrender if you value your life!” shouted a beautiful elven commander with a mustache, his voice replete with hatred.
Um... I learned to handle bows long ago, though. Perhaps these elves were thickheaded, just as the chief had said.
“To hell with you! Archers, fire!”
With the sort of beautiful firing posture you would expect from a race renowned for their archery, the elves launched their arrows at us. In the meantime, I performed a beltless arm throw at the air in front of me, spawning a tornado that quickly scattered the projectiles across the ground.
“Wh-What the—?!”
“Harite Catapult!” uttered the prince and I.
Boom! Our shock waves swept the archers off their feet. Two of them rolled off into the distance and stopped moving entirely.
“Th-That’s impossible! What kind of outlandish skill is that?!”
“A harite,” I answered.
“That’s right,” added the prince.
On top of the covered wagon that had brought these troops here in the first place, an elf sat up abruptly.
“Heh heh heh. Not bad, you two. Cap’n, lemme handle these fellas.”
“Boorman! Maybe you can do something about them!”
“They got my interest, all right. Let’s have a one-on-one, eh?”
The elven troops seemed excited about this “Boorman” making an appearance. He was a beautiful elf, slim and seemingly coldhearted, with a longsword at his hip. It wasn’t every day you saw an elf who used a sword.
“Truth be told, I was planning to chop up some local old geezers, but you two seem worth my time, so you’re going on the chopping block too. The name’s Boorman—the best swordsman among elves.”
“Interesting,” I said.
I considered summoning a dohyō, but abandoned the idea. The distance at which we started the bout would put a sword user at a disadvantage.
“I’ll handle him, Your Highness.”
“Okay. Good luck, Floortje.”
“For real? You’re making a lady fight first? Wow, you’re a disgrace to men everywhere, fella.”
I flashed him a smile.
“It’s because I’m stronger.”
I lowered my center of mass, assumed the squatting position, and extended my arms with open palms.
“Mgh...?”
Boorman tensed up at the sight of my form. It appeared he at least had enough skill to gauge the strength of his opponent by the way they carried themselves.
“Guess you know your stuff, eh?”
As a cold smile appeared on Boorman’s face, he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. I wondered if he intended to draw his sword and attack in one stroke during the fight. Shaking his head, he simply drew his sword in a flash and assumed a stance.
“Would be hard to aim with a draw attack.”
His judgment was solid too.