“I am René “Rosey” Ruvia Ciel-Terra, the First Princess and Acting King of the Dead Land of Ciel-Terra. I ask all the elves living in the Gaisenfall Great Forest.”
The voice of the girl resonated through the moonlit night, shaking the trees of the great forest.
Her name was already known to the elves in the forest.
“Don’t you feel regret? Don’t you feel anger, resentment? Aren’t you resentful towards the empire that seeks to take everything away?”
The girl’s passionate voice carried not just doubt, but a sense of helplessness and frustration.
It was a straightforward, childlike innocence that shattered the sense of powerlessness felt by the elves, who knew the strength of the Empire.
There were those throughout the forest who clenched their fists in frustration.
There were children whose parents had been taken from them. There were parents whose children were taken from them.
There were wives whose husbands were taken from them. There were husbands whose wives were taken from them.
Someone who had lost a neighbor. Someone who lost a friend. Someone who lost their lover.
“Scream. Cry. Let me hear your voice. Take up your bows and follow me. Let your arrows pierce the heavens.”
The girl’s voice had taken on the severity of a ruler and the fervor of a revolutionary.
Even if her words were nothing but insidious incitement, at that moment, she stood by the side of the elves.
“If you choose to sit and await death, so be it. But those who do not, rise. Now is the time for revenge. It is time to redeem arrogance and tyranny with blood.”
She merely showed a path to those cornered in the maze of fate.
It wasn’t a salvation. But even so, it was a way to avoid the ending of dying with anger and powerlessness in vain.
“…Let the hammer of evil fall upon the world that abandoned us!!”
Many raised their fists and shouted.
＊ ＊ ＊
Liellamires was surrounded by animal bone swords that shined pure white.
With ominous dark green hair and eerie golden eyes.
Wrapped in black leather armor against her brown skin, daringly exposing the sides and upper chest in a laced structure, Liellamires’ figure unmistakably belonged to that of a dark elf.
“Is this… for real?… Captain…”
“Why would … Dark Elf…”
“To protect.”
Warriors who were once her subordinates surrounded Liellamires.
Incredulous, despairing, they welcomed back Liellamires, who had turned into a Dark Elf.
While wary, perplexed, and hostile, disbelief and unwillingness were evident in everyone’s expressions.
“To protect this forest. Everyone… …There was no other choice…”
“But!”
Liellamires grasped the bone sword aimed at her.
The blade only trembled. A trickle of red blood ran down Liellamires’ hand from her elbow.
“Listen. You must know what has happened. We may have blindly followed something outrageous, thinking it was the will of our ancestors…”
Even as she spoke, Liellamires didn’t fear the sword aimed at her.
Because she already knew fear — fear of having something she believed in, something far more terrifying, shaken to its core.
＊ ＊ ＊
A cauldron as tall as a person stood boiling in the clearing of the forest.
The cauldron rested on flat stones. Magic stones were arranged, and magic circles drawn on them emitted heat.
It was tailored to the elves’ strict management of fire usage.
Stirring the cauldron large enough to cook a person was a witch befitting such a cauldron.
Wearing a wide-brimmed triangular hat, the witch was almost dressed like she was in her underwear, but a colorful apron with organic stains covered her body.
Peering into the cauldron with interest was a girl with long honey-colored hair tied into two buns with a kerchief. …A girl, at least outwardly.
He wore a country-style dress with a vibrant red and white checkered apron over it.
Some bewitching magic seemed to be at play, as the moment one looked away, the images of the two became vague in memory.
Yet it was clear that they were both extremely disparate beings in this place.
“Will this really turn into food?”
“It will, indeed.”
From her bag, Everis took out an object resembling a palm-sized baked good and showed it to Tracy. Everis tossed it into the cauldron and stirred to dissolve it.
“Technology from another world, ‘Freeze Drying’. By freezing cooked soup and removing moisture in a vacuum, you can turn it into a solid like this. If you throw it into boiling water, it returns to its original state without magic. The only problem is that it spoils quickly if not stored properly, but it’s fine if you put it in a subspace.”
Everis’s bag was, naturally, a storage magic item, capable of storing an unimaginable amount of items.
Subspace was a space fundamentally cut off from the outside world, so unless you threw something wet inside, moisture wouldn’t seep in.
“Ah, it was good that we stocked up on food during the conquest of Marquis Edfeldt’s territory.”
“I thought all the skeletons were doing a mass kitchen prep before departure…”
Tracy seemed impressed or bewildered, his expression subtly ambiguous.
Everis had encountered reincarnates from Earth several times before.
Although not many possessed conveniently advanced technology, Everis had managed to create a few things based on the overview of the technology she had heard and her scientific knowledge coupled with flashes of inspiration akin to divine revelation.
‘Freeze Drying’ was one of them. Although it was just a theory she had been working on, she had finally tested it out when she had enough magical power and food to experiment with.
Folded tables were set up and bowls were arranged by skeleton cooks wearing aprons for no apparent reason.
Receiving a bowl from one of them, Everis poured the ladleful of soup she scooped into it.
“So, does everyone want this?”
Silence filled the air.
This was one of the residential areas scattered throughout the forest.
Dwellings made of living ivy and resilient wood lined up.
Located on the southwest side of the forest, this place was where the elves who had lost their homes due to the empire’s invasion had fled, and it was evident that there were more elves than homes.
The elves watched from a distance the chaotic group that suddenly appeared and began cooking.
Some had bows in hand, but there was no sign of reckless aggression. Seeing that they were not armed other than with bows, it seemed they were not tribal warriors.
The elves, who seemed to be simply watching in confusion and fear, did not respond to Everis’ call, whether out of astonishment or caution.
Everis pouted slightly and stirred the cauldron as if venting her frustration.
“How cold of them. Come on, come on, the delicious smell is spreading.”
“Hey, if no one’s going to eat, can I have some first?”
“Of course, go ahead.”
Tracy, taking the bowl, first savored the aroma, then touched his lips, resembling blossoming buds in early spring, to the bowl.
And then, a mouthful.
“Delicious—!! What’s going on with this? It’s just like regular soup!”
Tracy exaggeratedly expressed his surprise and joy, scooping up the next mouthful with a spoon.
“The flavor of pork fat and just the right amount of salt permeate. It feels like they’ve added herbs for aroma and a bit of spiciness.”
“If I made the flavor too extreme, nobody would be able to eat it, so I made it with a herb-based seasoning that elves would be familiar with. …Right, let’s add some legumes too. Everyone seems to be lacking in carbohydrates.”
Everis took out something resembling a sachet and overturned it on top of the cauldron. Freeze-dried beans flowed out like a waterfall.
As the cauldron was stirred, the beans soaked up the broth.
“Hey, stop that!”
“It’s dangerous!”
A weary-looking elven boy approached the cauldron unsteadily.
Among the observing elves, there were some who raised their voices to stop him.
However, there were no elves resembling his parents or siblings.
The boy hesitated, glancing back several times, but ultimately did not stop until the end.
“Hey there, young man. You’ll be looking forward to twenty years from now. This meal is humanitarian aid, so please enjoy without hesitation.”
Everis smiled and offered the steaming soup bowl to the boy, who had come within arm’s reach.
