Chapter 22 : Elves in mory
The night wind over the training ground carried a strange blend of scorched earth from magic’s ravages and the fresh scent of crushed grass. Ryan carefully stored away those few strands of hair, cool to the touch, and could still faintly sense the lingering fragrance on them—sothing like flowers.
“Elves…”
He softly repeated the na of that race which seed to exist only in ancient books and legends, his gray-blue eyes appearing especially deep beneath the moonlight.
In both the original ga’s lore and the epic records passed down through the ages, the Elves had once been among the earliest masters of this continent.
Legend said they were born from the natural rhythms of the world’s beginning. As the favored children of forests, clear winds, and stars, they had built a brilliant and mysterious empire within the boundless prival woods by relying on their innate magical power and affinity with nature. Their magical civilization had once shone as dazzlingly as a river of stars.
Yet all flourishing things declined in the end.
As the Demon Race rose to power—creatures that lived by devouring mana and were violent and plundering by nature—a long war swept across the continent. In the eyes of the Demon Race, the pure and powerful mana of the Elves beca the most delicious and nourishing “food.”
Hunted, enslaved, exterminated…
The glorious Elven Empire collapsed amid war, blood, and tears. Countless forms of knowledge and inheritance were severed forever.
The surviving Elves were forced to abandon their holand and retreat to the deepest reaches of the continent’s far west, into the most remote and perilous prival forests, where they clung to existence behind ancient barriers and absolute concealnt.
From that point onward, Elves beca almost nothing more than symbols preserved in bards’ songs and old parchnt scrolls.
The last Elf widely known across the continent dated back thousands of years—to that legendary forest archer who had joined the hero’s party and ultimately helped defeat the previous Demon King.
It was her appearance that proved to the world that this ancient race had not been entirely wiped out. But after that, the Elves vanished once more, leaving behind only scattered and unverified sightings.
And the reason Ryan felt so heavy-hearted was that, in the early and middle parts of the original plot of Holy Light and the Seven Sins, there truly was one extrely important character with deep ties to the Elves—the Witch of Pride.
According to the fragnted hints in the ga and the research pieced together by the player community, that Witch was very likely an Elven princess wandering in exile, burdened with the weighty fate of her people.
She was powerful and aloof, carrying the desire to restore her race, yet because of the conflicts between her identity and ideals, she had a complex and profound entanglent with the protagonist’s group.
‘Could it be… that she was the one from last night?’
Ryan looked at the silver hair in his hand, its non-human sheen shifting in the light, and his chest tightened.
If that really was the future Witch of Pride appearing ahead of schedule—and she had fixed her eyes on him because of this Erald Wind Oath—then the level of trouble was in an entirely different league.
That would an he was not rely caught up in a dispute over an ancient relic, but might also have been drawn ahead of ti into the future vortex of fate surrounding a Witch and the main storyline.
But on second thought, if it was not her, that was even worse.
That would an that in addition to the known plot characters, there was another deeply hidden Elf of unknown motives who had infiltrated Saint Roland.
An unknown Elf, one willing to launch a nightti intrusion to achieve her goal, might be even more dangerous and unpredictable.
“Just wonderful… exactly what I was afraid of.”
Ryan let out a quiet sigh and carefully put away the silver hair. No matter which possibility it was, the attention brought by the Erald Wind Oath had already far exceeded his expectations. It was like a magnet that gave off an enticing fragrance while covered in barbs.
He did not linger there any longer. After quickly checking the surroundings and making sure he had left behind no other obvious traces, he silently returned along the sa shadowed route to Silver Fir House.
When he pushed open the door to Room 207, the room inside was completely quiet.
No light shone from beneath the crack of Cosette’s small bedroom door anymore, and her faint, even breathing made it clear that she had long since fallen into deep sleep, utterly unaware of the chase and clash that had taken place outside tonight.
That suited Ryan just fine.
He quietly closed the master bedroom door without turning on the light, then walked to the desk by the sparse starlight filtering through the window. He placed the silver hair into an empty little glass vial, then locked it away deep inside the drawer together with the Erald Wind Oath gemstone and that black booklet.
He went to the window and carefully examined the latch and the surrounding area, confirming that no signs of tampering had been left behind.
Then he returned to the bedside, but instead of lying down at once, he sat cross-legged on the floor and began a basic mana ditation.
It was not for improvent—the original owner’s body already possessed astonishing mana capacity and affinity, and no qualitative change was likely in the short term—but to calm his mind, sort through his thoughts, and extend his senses as far as possible to cover the entire room and a small area outside the window.
It was a kind of passive alert state. Although ntally draining, it allowed him to react instantly to any abnormal mana fluctuation or physical approach.
Thoughts surged in like tides, only to be forcibly suppressed by Ryan.
Anxiety was useless. What he needed now was a clear plan and the ability to carry it out.
‘First, ensure the basic safety of both Cosette and myself. Strengthen the dorm’s day-to-day vigilance and consider setting up more concealed warning asures.’
‘Second, secure startup funds as quickly as possible and begin practical work in Magic Tool creation. That is the foundation of my survival, and it could also beco a future source of inco and an investigative tool. Nora is the primary contact target.’
‘Third, handle the Erald Wind Oath and the clues related to the Elves with caution. Without exposing myself, try to extract more information from both the notes and the gem itself. Perhaps it can be turned into leverage or a ans of self-protection.’
‘Fourth, keep an eye on any unusual movent within the academy, especially the activities of Andre’s group.’
As his thoughts gradually beca clearer, Ryan’s mood slowly settled as well.
He ended his ditation and lay down on the bed fully clothed, still maintaining the alertness of a light sleeper.
Outside the window, the night was thick as ink.
From far away, the academy clocktower sent out deep tolling chis, one after another… as though asuring the quiet hours before the storm arrived.
The next morning, sunlight once again stread through the windows of Silver Fir House, filling the room with brightness.
Cosette woke punctually and, like a diligent little bee, began the day’s work with care and caution. She first made her little bed neatly, then tiptoed into the master bedroom.
Inside, Ryan still seed to be asleep.
Cosette picked up a cleaning cloth and began wiping down the desk.
She was simply carrying out her duties seriously, dusting the desktop, bookshelf, and windowsill until they were spotless. Then, as usual, she gently closed the door and went to the dining hall to buy breakfast for her master.
The academy dining hall was already sowhat noisy in the morning, but the atmosphere seed no different from usual. The new students were still full of excitent and curiosity, while most of the older students either looked sleepy or were discussing their studies.
Cosette successfully bought breakfast—soft bread, warm milk, a fried egg, and several slices of sausage.
By the ti she returned to Room 207 carrying the tray, Ryan was already awake. He was standing by the window looking outside, the morning light outlining his upright figure with a pale golden glow.
“Master, breakfast is ready,” she said softly as she placed the tray on the desk she had polished until it shone.
“Mhm.”
Ryan turned around, his expression as calm as ever. There was not the slightest sign of fatigue from having slept less than three hours the night before. Sitting down, he picked up a piece of bread and took a bite.
“How many of yesterday’s characters did you rember?”
The topic shifted naturally back to everyday life.
Cosette’s face turned red, and her attention was imdiately diverted.
“I-I rembered five… but I still keep mixing up two of them…”
“Today’s target is seven.” Ryan’s tone was flat but left no room for objection. “I am going to the workshop this afternoon. You will stay in the dorm and study, or go borrow so illustrated books from the first floor of the library.”
“Yes, Master!”
Cosette nodded vigorously, her heart full of determination to complete the task.
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