Chapter 417 [Event] [Semester-Exam At Vanadias] [5] The Disabled Elf
"You'll see. The museum is filled with artifacts from the early centuries of Sancta Vedelia, especially from the era of wars, the Blood Moon War, and Deborah Dolphis' Rebellion. All the items are authentic and remarkably well-preserved," Toran declared with pride as we approached the circular monument constructed from gleaming white wood.
The museum was bustling with activity, as a steady stream of people, both locals and tourists, moved in and out of the grand entrance. The residents of Vanadias, mostly elves, mingled with travelers who had come to explore the city's rich history. Occasionally, a few curious onlookers would glance our way, no doubt intrigued by the sight of our small group flanked by guards, a formation that set us apart from the crowd.
While the others seemed genuinely excited about the visit, I found myself utterly disinterested. In truth, I was more bored than anything else. I suppose it's inevitable—these examinations in foreign lands always come with their obligatory dose of cultural exposure and educational excursions before the actual test begins.
I trailed behind the group, my steps slowing as my disinterest grew. Once I was certain no one was paying attention to me, I took the opportunity to slip away, blending seamlessly into the bustling crowd. It didn't take long before I was lost in the sea of people, free from the tedious museum visit.
"Finally, some air," I murmured with a sigh of relief, a small smile creeping onto my face as I wandered off in a different direction.
The streets were alive with activity. Elven performers were putting on vibrant shows, their elegant movements captivating small crowds. Nearby, vendors manned colorful stalls, calling out to passersby in an attempt to lure them into trying their wares. Most of their attention was directed at tourists, easy targets for a quick sale.
"Hey, young man! Want to test your archery skills?" An elf called out to me, his tone a mix of enthusiasm and condescension.
"Not interested," I replied curtly, barely glancing in his direction as I continued walking.
It was clear they saw me as easy prey, probably because I was human. The elves seemed more wary around the vampires and werewolves, treating them with a guarded respect that was noticeably absent in their dealings with me. The discrimination was blatant from the bastards.
How I wished the elves didn't exist!
After about twenty minutes of aimless wandering, nothing in particular caught my attention, and I began to consider returning to the museum. I wasn't eager to attract James Raven's scrutiny; he would definitely notice if I skipped out on the visit. It wasn't as if I could openly admit my disdain for the history of the elves, especially not with them all around. I wasn't that much of a jerk, after all.
"Stop her!"
"Hm?" The shout reached my ears, sparking my curiosity. I paused and glanced over my shoulder, trying to pinpoint the source of the commotion.
It seemed to be coming from behind a nearby building. Curious, I leaped effortlessly onto the rooftop, my gaze sweeping the scene below.
"P-Please, just leave me alone this once!" A desperate voice pleaded.
I spotted the source immediately: an elven girl with brown hair and matching brown eyes, frantically trying to escape her pursuers. She was in a wheelchair, her legs likely paralyzed, making her escape all the more desperate. She was spinning the wheels with all her strength, trying to outpace the ten or so elves chasing after her. Despite her efforts, they were rapidly closing in.
For a moment, I simply observed the scene unfolding below. The girl appeared to be younger than me. She seemed determined as she struggled to evade her pursuers. The situation seemed like the sort of trouble that usually found its way to Victor—the protagonist, the one destined to be the hero. But here I was, caught in the middle of it.
With a resigned sigh, I decided to intervene. I vaulted off the building, snatching a piece of cloth bearing the Teraquin emblem as I descended. I quickly wrapped it around my mouth to conceal my identity before landing lightly on the ground in front of the girl and her pursuers.
"An attack in broad daylight? Don't you have any shame, you filthy elves?" I spat, fixing them with a contemptuous look.
The group of elves skidded to a halt, momentarily surprised by my sudden appearance.
"Who are you?!"
"Get out of our way!"
"Do you know who we are?!"
I stroked my chin, feigning contemplation before delivering my retort with a smirk. "Third-rate villains?"
[<It's good that you hid your face, Amael, but engaging them will get you into trouble regardless. You can kiss that reward from James Raven goodbye.>]
Damn. She's right.
...and noticed the girl stifling a giggle. Despite her earlier fear, she now seemed amused by the absurdity of the situation.
I grimaced, considering for a split second just leaving her to fend for herself. But those bastards behind us had already pissed me off beyond measure.
"Your chair's slowing us down," I muttered.
"Eh? W–What?!" She exclaimed, confusion and panic flashing in her eyes.
Ignoring her protests, I scooped her up into my arms and spun around to face our pursuers. Their eyes flared with anger as they saw me lifting the girl.
"You!!" they shouted, their rage palpable.
"Go to hell, fuckers!" I smirked and kicked the wheelchair with all my might. It spun wildly and crashed into them, sending a few sprawling to the ground.
"Ughhh!"
"Aghh!"
"M–My chair!" The girl cried out..
"It's useless if you're dead!" I retorted, breaking into a sprint, now moving much faster without the cumbersome chair.
"T–They won't kill me—" She began, but I cut her off.
"Get a grip!" I said, increasing my speed. She quickly tightened her arms around my neck, holding on for dear life.
After about five minutes of relentless running, I finally stopped at a secluded spot in what appeared to be a small, quiet park. The area was mostly deserted, the trees providing cover from prying eyes.
"Now we should be safe," I said, gently settling her down on a nearby bench.
"Um..." The girl shifted awkwardly, clearly unsure of what to say.
"How about a 'thank you' to start?" I suggested, raising an eyebrow. "I saw you laughing your ass off back there."
"T-That's..." She stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Even though she wasn't extraordinarily beautiful by elven standards, there was a certain charm in her shyness.
I shrugged, pulling the cloth down from my face. "Whatever, just tell me where—"
"...!"
Before I could finish my sentence, the girl suddenly froze, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at me.
Her gaze fixated on my ears—undeniably human ears.
"H-Hu—man...!" She whispered, her face draining of color.
And then, without warning, she fainted, collapsing back against the bench.
"...Really?" I muttered, staring down at her unconscious form, unsure whether to laugh or groan at the situation.