Renya had meant for his comment to be a tad slighting, hoping to provoke a response from Croire. Her cool and unaffected response, however, told him that his attempt was unsuccessful. It made him reconsider things. While he had seen his fair share of things — over ninety-four years’ worth with both lifetimes combined — it was possible that the elf before him dwarfed him in sheer number of years lived. If so, it would make Croire the first person he met since coming to this world who was actually older than him.
“Elves live pretty long, right?”
“Disregarding the abrupt change in topic, yes, we do.”
“How old are you? I can’t tell at all just by looking.”
“I will be seventy this year.”
“…Seventy?
He was still the oldest.
Recalling that Rona had mentioned something about elves reaching adulthood at two hundred years old, he gauged their lifespan to be approximately ten times that of humans. Based on Croire’s appearance, he had figured that even if she wasn’t 200, she’d be at least 140 to 150 years old. Seeing that his estimate was wrong, he took another good look at the elf walking in front them, regarding the back of her figure. A thought occurred to him: maybe his ten-times-of-humans idea wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe she was actually the equivalent of a seven-year-old human.
“Yes?” asked Croire. As though she felt him staring, she turned her head toward him. It was a little concerning how she kept walking forward while looking backward. “There’s no need to worry,” she added. “I won’t bump into a wall. I don’t need to see forward to walk forward.”
“Huh. Neat trick. Color me impressed… Anyway, how old exactly is that? Like, relative to other elves.”
Croire looked at him like he was daft.
“Master is a Wanderer, so Master is a teeny tiny bit clueless about this world,” explained Frau.
Renya looked at the little fairy holding his hand. He had thought that the only ones in his party who could talk elf were Rona and him with his skill. Frau, however, turned out to speak fluent Elvish. That left Shion as the sole member who was in the dark, and her apathetic expression suggested that she had given up entirely on trying to converse with the elf.
As for why Frau could speak Elvish, she said that it was because elves and fairies were similar beings. Apparently, elves might as well have been half-fairies.
“A Wanderer… I see. How… exotic,” said Croire with an expression of genuine surprise.
“Can you not use the word ‘exotic’? I’m not a circus attraction,” replied an irritated Renya.
“I can understand if you’re a Wanderer. Were you a regular human, I would have deemed you an ignorant imbecile.”
Everything she said had thorns. She did not seem to like humans at all.
“Appearance-wise, elves mature at about forty years of age. These forty years are referred to as the growing phase. The next 160 years are referred to as the maturing phase. Only after reaching 200 years of age are elves considered adults.”
“Huh. So, you’re in the middle of the maturing phase.”
“That is correct. The maturing phase is when we accumulate knowledge and experience. In human terms, I would be considered fourteen or fifteen years of age. You may also wish to know that while there is individual variation, our lifespans tend to be about a thousand years.”
“It’s also a well-known fact that elves don’t experience much change in their physical appearance.”
Rona chimed in from behind Renya. At first, he had no idea whether she was speaking Human or Elvish, but he managed to deduce from Croire’s lack of response that it was probably Human. Only later, through repeated experiments and the help of Rona’s proficiency in both languages, would he come to understand the finer nuances of his speech. If he envisioned himself speaking in Human, it was perceived as Human; if Elvish, then Elvish. This phenomenon translated to writing as well, and these newfound discoveries greatly elevated his opinion of the skill’s practicality.
“Once elves fully mature, they look the same until they die. They maintain their youthful appearance for a long time and no elves ever appear elderly, so people have at times suspected them of being immortal,” Rona explained. “In actuality, though, they do age. Elf kids turn into elf adults, and then they grow older and older. They just don’t turn wrinkly.”
“Renya, I don’t know what the blob of fat is saying, but I’d prefer for you humans to not speak secretly amongst yourselves.”
“Why don’t you go and learn Human if you hate being left out so much?” came Rona’s caustic reply.
Croire’s expression darkened a little.
Aha, thought Renya as he noticed the elf’s reaction. Rona must have switched to Elvish just to taunt Croire. He was getting the hang of this.
“On a more immediate note…” said Rona, her eyes narrowing warily. “Why am I getting the distinct sensation that we’re being watched?”
As a matter of fact, Renya felt the same. Ever since Croire had led the four of them out of the room and through the school, numerous people gawked at them from various windows and shadowed spots. The gawkers probably believed they were being subtle about it.
They were not. It was actually rather blatant, and it was equally blatant where, or rather, whom their gazes were focused on. Not a single line of sight made its way to Renya, Frau, or Shion. Clearly, the object of their interest had also noticed. He took a moment to appreciate how sensitive women were to being looked at. It was honestly a very faint sensation — almost imperceivable without careful attention.
“I’m feeling a lot of people staring at me. It must be the elves. I doubt there are even enough humans in the elf kingdom to provide this many eyes…” murmured Rona. “I know what they’re thinking. They’re probably snickering about how fat I look. The fools, not realizing that large breasts are a sign of a loving mother, and large hips are a sign of safe births… Very well. Allow me to re-educate these poor misguided creatures. By force.”
Now, even Renya was gawking at her. Brainwashing elves seemed like a great way to cause some sort of interracial conflict. Before Rona, whose evil laugh sounded a little too convincing, had a chance to make good on her promise, he quickly pointed at the person standing behind her.
“Shion! Stop her!”
“Got it!”
Shion nodded and jumped on Rona just as she pulled out her scary-looking mace.
“Let-me-go!”
As the two girls wrestled, Renya whispered a question to Croire.
“These eyes on us… I assume it’s that reformation movement you mentioned?”
“It pains me to admit, but…” She showed no overt displeasure, but she kept her eyes down as she nodded.
Apparently, Rona had fans. Hiding behind various places of cover scattered throughout the school, elves who had awakened to the appeal of fullness in women were casting furtive but passionate gazes at their newfound idol. For them, seeing a human was probably rare enough; one of Rona’s proportions must have been downright exotic. It wasn’t hard to imagine how they’d want to take a good long look at such a magnificent example of the feminine figure.
Of course, the appreciation only went one way.
“What are the chances they get physical?”
Renya was worried some of the more driven elves might attempt a blitzkrieg of sorts.
“I won’t say none… but in that case, you won’t be faulted for any action you take in response,” answered Croire in a cool, detached manner. The implication was, then, if push came to shove, he could get away with manslaughter.
“In fact, I’d appreciate it if you killed a few. Kill them all if you want. The other elves might thank you for it.”
“I guess the curve-loving elves are a minority?”
“For now… but unfortunately, their numbers are growing rapidly,” said the elf through gritted teeth.
Renya shrugged.
“You really mean it?” he asked before glancing at the still-struggling Rona. “Because I’m just going to sic her on them if you do.”
Croire followed his gaze.
“I certainly don’t mind…” she said before turning back to him, “but is she quite strong? Strong enough to fight against elves in the forest?”
“Who knows? I’ve never fought elves before, so it’s not like I can tell.”
“Should her strength prove lacking, with proportions like those… Well, just be aware that incapacitation and abduction are both well within the realm of possibility.”
“Uh, you know, I’d imagined elves to be fairly mellow people, what with the whole nigh-immortal thing and all… but I’m getting some pretty predatory vibes from what you said,” said Renya as he reconsidered his plan to set Rona loose on them. He’d rather not come back to find a bunch of radical elves in possession of a Rona-shaped sex toy. He suspected that they wouldn’t either, because they’d then discover that their kingdom, along with their entire forest, had been burnt to the ground. That last part, he didn’t say out loud.
“I ask that you see it as a wave of changing opinions that’s spreading through the elven population with the young elves at the center of it all,” said Croire in a flat, emotionless voice. Something about it seemed insincere.
“Sure. I get the official stance. Now let’s hear how you see it.”
“It pains me to admit that elves are increasingly being infected by a virulent strain of human thought, characteristic in its origin from the groin rather than the head.”
“Okay, being human, I feel like I do need to mention that we’re not all like that. I mean, I admit a lot of us are, but…”
“Of course, as a race, so long as we’re making children…” Croire sighed before spitting, “It matters little to us whether it’s with humans or elves.”
“Won’t that just make the kids mixed?”
“Mixed?”
Renya and Croire stared at each other, neither understanding what the other was asking. Enter Frau, professional explainer.
“Master, when humans and elves make babies, they’re always the same race as daddy. That’s why if an elf takes Miss Rona away and they love each other very much, all their babies will be elves.”
The euphemism did not make her example any less disturbing.
“In that case, what if Croire and I had a baby?”
“You’ll have a nice little human baby.”
“What in the world are you talking about?!” exclaimed a red-faced Croire.
“It’s just an example. Geez. I don’t mean it for real.”
“You most certainly don’t. As if I’d ever… with a human…” muttered the flustered elf, the rest of her grumbling growing more and more indistinct.
Renya shook his head and smiled wryly. Someone’s head was definitely in the gutter. Croire, however, seemed to have taken his smile to mean something else and poutingly turned away. She kept her face forward as she walked.
As Renya rushed to catch up with the sullen elf, he heard another bout of angry growls and labored breaths from behind. The struggle between the two girls yet continued.
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought them along.