It was a day from the past.
There was a time when the battlefield fell into a strange stalemate with the appearance of the Hero Party. Contrary to public perception, the Hero Party did not immediately assassinate the Seven Dragon Generals.
During that period, the Hero Party was known externally as something like a "High-Value Target Rapid Strike Team." This was primarily what the demon race called them.
In those days, they traveled around assassinating high-value targets of the demon army—field commanders—to coordinate their efforts, locate the Seven Dragon Generals, and slow the demon army's threat.
The ones who played the biggest roles during that time were, naturally, Ivan, the Annihilation Squad, Enrique, and Beolgrin.
"Have you learned anything?"
"Besides the fact that I'm ten times older than you? Well, I don't think so."
Beolgrin lowered his hand with a grin. The orc that had been in his grasp collapsed to the ground, drooling.
Ivan looked up at the sky. He calculated the time by determining the moon's position in the cloudy sky. This was before he had become accustomed to calculating time down to the second.
In any case, he recognized that there was still some time left before they needed to move for the next operation. Ivan sat down among the half-collapsed military camp and quietly took out an energy bar to chew on.
"Is it tasty?"
"Does taste matter?"
"Of course it matters. Don't forget the small pleasures, Scout. In darkness, the most frightening thing isn't the enemy, but forgetting."
Forgetting the pleasant things, the important things, the precious things.
Ivan's eyes twitched at the elf's words. Mages had a habit of twisting even simple words, and elderly mages suffered from this symptom severely.
By the time someone became an elderly-elf-mage, ordinary conversation became difficult to maintain.
"Let me have one too."
"You won't spit it out?"
"Would I do that to a wooden stick you cherish so much?"
Beolgrin took an energy bar from Ivan's hand and waved his hand over it. Purple magical energy sparkled and scattered.
His fingers moved as if each one had its own will. Soon, strange symbols densely decorated the energy bar before suddenly disappearing.
"Here, take it back."
"...What did you do?"
"I bestowed a favor."
Ivan silently chewed the energy bar. He took one bite and paused momentarily.
It was warm. Despite being in enemy territory where they couldn't light a fire, it was pleasantly hot. The pork fat inside had half-melted, making it soft to chew, and the grains crumbled delicately.
As Ivan silently munched on the energy bar, Beolgrin, who had been watching the scene with satisfaction, suddenly spoke.
"Don't hate elves too much."
"..."
When Ivan turned his gaze, Beolgrin smiled and shifted his eyes toward the sky.
"We're not exactly the friendliest race, I admit, but don't hate us too much."
"I don't hate them."
"Is that so? Good then."
Ivan couldn't tell what the old elf before him was thinking. He always wore a faintly smiling face.
These ancient beings, who always maintained the appearance of youth, were all the more unsettling because of it. It was too difficult to discern their true thoughts, yet they could read others' minds like an open book.
Ivan shook his head and turned his gaze away. From beyond the sky came successive booming sounds.
It was the sound of airship cannons. Red flashes of light were twinkling beyond the dark clouds.
"An individual cannot represent an entire race."
"...What?"
"That's essentially why we're at war with the demon race. The Demon King's individual will represents dozens of races as a whole."
Boom, crash. The sounds of the airship cannons were drawing closer.
The front line was shifting. The demons, having lost their command post, were scattering.
Against the dark night sky, with the red-tinged bombardment behind him, Beolgrin laughed softly.
"So even if some elves are arrogant, and others are wicked, don't hate the entire race. We should at least be better people than that, shouldn't we?"
"...I'll keep that in mind."
"Well, that's something to discuss after the war ends."
Beolgrin shrugged his shoulders. His expression was filled with certainty. Looking at him, Ivan suddenly asked:
"When do you think the war will end?"
"The current war will end in ten years."
In retrospect, the Demon King died at the hands of the Hero a little over ten years and a few months from that time.
"After that, well..."
Beolgrin continued to prepare for war even after that. Even after the Demon King's death. Even in the peace that finally arrived, even among his kin who mocked his claims.
He was the most difficult elf for Ivan to understand. He was the most friendly elf toward humans, the most secretive man, and also the strongest.
Humans didn't like him, and elves ridiculed him as insane.
Yet he would nod quietly with a smile and continue toward what he believed in.
Wasn't it almost a miracle that the one considered the most powerful mage in elven history was friendly toward humans?
Especially during that period when the Demon King had arrived.
'An individual cannot represent an entire race... huh.'
Wrong.
When Ivan recalled Beolgrin's words, he couldn't help but deny them.
Most elves were a race difficult to grow fond of, but because of a minority of elves who weren't like that, Ivan was able to avoid hating the entire race.
In those days, Beolgrin clearly represented the elves.
Ep 26. The Racial Discriminators
"So, racial discrimination should be prohibited by international law, I'm telling you."
"Oh."
"Categorizing people by nation or ethnicity is an outdated evil practice. Just because someone is from Krasilov doesn't mean they fight polar bears daily, drink potato vodka until they die, and chew on garbage-like fodder, right?"
"At least I know what you think of Krasilov now."
Ivan nodded at Elfihera's words. Sadly, they were difficult to deny.
"No, that's not the important part! Look, elves are only superior in ear length, lifespan, and the depth of knowledge, culture, morality, and social norms. That doesn't necessarily mean humans are primitive, right?"
"...Indeed."
"So instead of discriminating against others based on race, I think everyone should become one in heart and mind as members of the United Kingdom. Form... families. Yes."
"What exactly are you trying to say?"
Elfihera mumbled for a while before turning her head away.
Blue clouds were drifting low beyond the blue sky. The hull gently swayed whenever it caught the wind.
"The Hero Party should be a role model for everyone, right...?"
"Hmm."
"So I was thinking, how about becoming a moral guide by being the first to abolish the evil practice of racial discrimination? Like with united families."
"You'd better consult with Beolgrin about that."
"Why does Dad come up there?!"
Then why are you discussing this with me?
Since Ivan had already given up on understanding these kids, he turned his head to think more sensibly and soundly.
The inland stretched far below his feet. Beyond the snow-covered forest, green plains were visible. Small villages with rising smoke were lined up like toys.
The forests of northern Tilles were visible at a glance. Ivan was calculating the ship's speed by observing the long trajectory of the railway passing below.
The airship was now floating above Tilles.
"Don't worry. They absolutely can't see us from below."
Elfihera laughed, spreading her chest with a "heheng" sound.
"A perfect invisibility ship! I've applied thick optical camouflage spells under the bow! Though the maintenance costs are extremely expensive..."
"Are there more ships like this?"
"Hmm. I suppose each high councilor of the Privy Council has one?"
The warship Ivan was standing on belonged to the Grikenkos family.
All elven noble families typically owned their own fleet, but only a limited number of families could possess airships.
Going a step further, families that owned optically camouflaged airships were extremely rare. That was fortunate.
If there were just five such warships, most countries would collapse without a chance to resist. While the concept of air supremacy was still vague to humans in this pre-modern world, it wasn't so for elves.
This race possessed the most powerful fleet and dominated both sea and air routes.
Ivan looked at the drifting clouds and thought.
'Is it certain that Beolgrin is in Kalion?'
The last time they met, he was definitely tracking Alexandr.
But if Alexandr was hiding in Kalion... could Beolgrin possibly lose track of him? Was that even possible?
While it was impossible to know which elf might be supporting Alexandr, was his position really significant enough to hide him from Beolgrin?
Probably not. While Elizabeta tended to underestimate his position excessively, objectively speaking, her assessment wasn't far off.
Alexandr is a failure. He lost the crown, all his attempts at restoration were preemptively crushed, and he completely lost his support base within his country.
All his attempts to operate covertly from foreign countries met the same fate. Even mobilizing more than half of Tilles' forces, he couldn't seize the throne.
Elves don't have the patience to shelter such a loser.
So if Alexandr was truly hiding in Kalion, the situation was one of two possibilities:
'Either Beolgrin isn't in Kalion.'
Or, Beolgrin has sanctioned Alexandr.
Assuming the latter, how should one respond?
Ivan looked at the distant eastern horizon with a bitter expression.