Chapter 144

Chapter 144

“Ancient tree...? Are you referring to the Tree of Life?”

“Legacy of the Swamp Elves. I’ve heard that those are your ancestors.”

“So, you are talking about the Tree of Life... swamp elves, really, how ancient of a story is that...”

“So you do know something.”

Findrel, glaring at Ian, added, “If you swear by the Goddess to release me, I’ll answer you.”

“Hmm....”

Ian nodded slightly and murmured.

“It seems losing one ear wasn't enough.”

“What...? To make me talk, at least—”

Instinctively, Findrel tilted his head to the side as Charlotte reached toward him.

Losing his balance, he fell to the ground, face buried in the dirt, gasping. Blood from his severed ear stained his face.

Ian, who had stopped Charlotte with a slight motion of his fingers holding the cigarette, looked down at him and said, “You seem to be under a misunderstanding. That only works when you're the only option. There are plenty of elves. I’m not in a hurry. But you... well.”

“....”

Before Findrel could say anything, Ian took another puff from the cigarette. Charlotte, seizing the moment, grabbed Findrel by the neck and lifted him. Just as she was about to extend her dagger, Findrel coughed and spoke up.

“I know! I know it well. I’ve even seen the Tree of Life!”

“Is that so...?” Ian smiled.

Charlotte clicked her tongue in disappointment and released his neck. Findrel, kneeling, caught his breath while Ian’s cold voice continued.

“But it’s hard to believe you know it well.”

“...! No, truly—”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me what you know.”

“Li, like what you have said, the ancient swamp elves are indeed our ancestors. Some who were pushed out by humans broke the curse and remained in the jungle, but most crossed the inner sea and migrated to the South. There, they planted new Trees of Life and rebuilt them. But as you know, the great Tree of Life was burned in the war era. Now, only a few of its descendants remain. But the twilight of magic—”

“History is sufficient for now.”

He’s really spewing out everything he knows.

Ian took another drag of the smoke and added.

“You seem to know a bit, so let me ask you something else. If a few Trees of Life remain, why are your nobles secretly seeking the seeds? Couldn’t they harvest them themselves?”

Charlotte glanced at Ian, looking puzzled about why he was asking this. Findrel was equally confused.

Frowning slightly, Findrel responded.

“I don’t understand. Why is a human asking about the Tree of Life, and how do you know that elders are searching for seeds? It doesn’t seem like you’re doing this on someone’s request.”

How do I know? Because I’ve experienced it in the game.

Recalling the seed of the ancient tree buried in the farthest corner of his pocket dimension, Ian nodded his chin.

“That’s not your concern. Just answer the question.”

“It’s impossible to procure the seeds ourselves.”

Ian, about to gesture again, made Findrel hastily speak. Ian nodded for him to continue.

Findrel, relieved, went on. “The Trees of Life are still young. They can't bloom or bear fruit. And they’ve stopped growing. So there’s no way to get the seeds.”

“They’ve stopped growing?”

“Yes. The Trees of Life grow not just on water and sunlight but also on mana. But as you know, this is the twilight of magic for mana. We should be grateful they’re not withering away. That’s why the elders are so desperate.”

Findrel’s gaze seemed to search the air as if recalling a memory.

“I’ve heard they once sent a search party to that cursed jungle outside Agel Lan. They must have believed there would be fully grown Trees of Life there. I haven't heard any news since then.”

“They probably didn’t make it back....” Ian murmured, recalling the jungle outside the swamps.

It seemed they never discovered the tree left in the heart of Agel Lan. Indeed, that’s why the seed ended up in Ian’s possession.

Even Marquis Burchard, who corrupted it, probably didn’t know what significance that tree held for the elves. And even if he did, nothing would have changed.

“How do you know that...?” Findrel asked, tilting his head.

Because I’ve been there.

Ian answered with a snort instead and continued.

“So, there’s no way to make the Tree of Life grow. If it were me, I’d have tried burying a lot of mana stones.”

“It doesn’t absorb through the roots. Even if it did, you’d need an endless supply of mana stones.”

“I see... So, in the end, they’re not looking for the seeds to plant them.”

Findrel’s shoulders stiffened momentarily. It was only for a brief moment, but Ian didn’t miss it.

Taking a deep drag from the half-finished cigarette, Ian smiled. “Since planting new ones won’t make them grow properly. Isn’t that right?”

“Well.... I don’t know about that. The elders are secretive, rarely sharing knowledge with younger ones like me—”

Ian turned his gaze. Charlotte, looking bored by the conversation, seized the moment and grabbed Findrel’s mouth. Without hesitation, she swung her dagger.

“Mmph... ugh...!”

The intact tip of his other ear was also cut off at an angle.

Findrel’s eyes were bloodshot. He was straining his whole body so much that blood started flowing again from the already-stopped bleeding of the first ear.

Findrel looked up at Charlotte with wide eyes. Soon, a dark shadow fell over his face.

It was Ian, drawing his dagger. “You seem to have a long and difficult way of saying you want to die painfully.”

The light in Findrel’s eyes faded as soon as they met Ian’s cold gaze. But it was a fleeting moment. Soon, a blue glint appeared in his eyes as he desperately drew upon his mana.

One corner of Ian’s mouth lifted in a smirk. Instead of using a magic backlash or striking with his dagger, he spoke.

“Step back, Charlotte. Five steps or more.”

Charlotte growled but released Findrel’s face and stepped back. Even as he fell sideways, Findrel’s eyes flashed with blue light.

Boom—

The Frost Wave radiated from him, freezing the surroundings. Ian, raising his left arm to shield his face, was covered in a thin layer of white frost.

Crack.

“...!”

Immediately after, Ian moved his arm as if nothing had happened. He casually brushed the frost off his body with his hand. Findrel's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Ian to withstand the spell head-on without any harm.

Ian looked down at him.

"With such a negligible amount of magic that you don't even feel magic exhaustion, you can't inflict any damage on me, Findrel. Is this your trump card? It's utterly insignificant."

Ian extended his dagger and drew a long line across Findrel’s neck. A deep red line appeared, quickly bleeding out.

The elf’s blood was as red as a human’s.

“You will... regret....”

With those words, mumbled through bloody froth, Findrel’s eyes lost focus.

A quest completion window appeared before Ian’s eyes.

[The Family’s Troublemaker.]

It was a quest that had appeared when Ian confronted Findrel. There were two different completion conditions: to either bring him alive to his family or kill him. Ian had chosen the latter. He didn’t know what consequences this would bring, but he had no regrets.

Even in this reality, elves were an untrustworthy race. A similar situation would have unfolded with any other elf.

“It’s actually... more certain now,” Ian murmured as he wiped his dagger on Findrel’s forearm.

It became clear that trading the seed of the ancient tree with elven nobles wouldn’t be easy. Even in the game, the quest likely wouldn’t have ended beautifully.

“Be prepared to stop your heart....” Ian muttered as he stood up. He looked at Charlotte, who was staring intently at Findrel’s corpse.

"Check again to see if there's anything else worth taking. Leave the corpse as it is."

“...Alright.”

Charlotte approached as Ian turned and walked down the hill. She kicked Findrel’s body over and started searching it again.

“Is it all finished, my lord?” Philip whispered from the driver’s seat. The night had fallen completely, and his figure was shrouded in darkness.

Ian shrugged his shoulders and continued walking. Philip added as Ian approached.

“So, you... killed the elf in the end.”

“Yes,” Ian replied indifferently as he mounted the horse beside the carriage.

He glanced inside. Philip whispered again.

“She fell asleep a little while ago.”

Nodding, Ian looked at Mev, deeply buried in the carriage seat. She was sound asleep, breathing quietly.

It wasn’t surprising. Any normal person would have been exhausted long ago from the battles they had fought.

Soon, Charlotte, who had silently climbed back onto her horse, threw something to Ian.

“...?”

Ian caught it and looked down at his hand. It was a silver brooch shaped like a flower. About half the size of his palm. Though he didn’t know what flower it was, the intricate craftsmanship was evident.

“It seems to be the coat of arms of his family,” Charlotte added softly.

Ian nodded. It was just an ornament, but it would fetch some money if sold. And it gave a way to identify the Aynas family.

He placed the brooch in his pocket dimension and looked at Charlotte again.

“Do you have enough stamina left?”

“Plenty. I won’t be able to sleep tonight anyway.”

“Good.”

Ian turned to Philip.

“Let’s move. We’ve lost a lot of time. We’ll travel until dawn.”

Philip silently nodded and urged the horse forward. The carriage started moving slowly. Ian and Charlotte followed behind.

Watching the carriage intently, Charlotte suddenly spoke.

“You can tell when someone’s lying, Ian. Right?”

“Not always, but to some extent,” Ian replied casually.

Charlotte looked at him.

“Then let me ask you one thing.”

“Go ahead.”

“Those things he said at the end. Were they lies?”