At that moment, Elfihera was nervously tapping the table, staring at the castle walls visible beyond the dock.
"We haven't been caught yet, right? Everything's still okay, right?"
"Yes, it's fine, so calm down."
Despite Edel's words, Elfihera's ears drooped as she fidgeted anxiously. She wondered how things had come to this.
It had been a simple plan to dock at Kalion and stop by the nearby Alchemy School to replenish supplies before departing.
She hadn't expected to be blocked at the entrance and expelled, but well, companies could have internal issues, so it was something they could have overlooked.
But then Ivan suddenly decided to infiltrate. He planned a nighttime infiltration operation to gather information.
Isn't this a bit excessive...? she thought.
"Don't you think it's strange?"
"That fellow seemed anxious too."
"What?"
"I don't know what's going on since he won't speak plainly, but he seemed anxious. Like he's racing against time."
Elfihera sighed with sudden realization.
She recalled what he had said in Pritzenkaya. About the time left in this world, transmigrators, and the threat of the Hero Party.
The story was too verbose and vague for her to fully empathize with. The Demon King was dead, the demon race had been driven out of the world, and nations worldwide had lost the national momentum to wage war for the time being.
Wasn't it a peaceful era? Unprecedented in history.
But in Ivan's eyes, it seemed otherwise. His attitude showed it—whenever something happened, he would pounce on even the tiniest clue with burning intensity.
"Lord Coenulf. Actually, I was thinking of having a picnic."
"Huh?"
"Since Krasilov is cold, I wanted to come to the warm Kalion for a while. I wanted to forget about the war in Tilles and everything else, and just rest with Lord Yeremov in my homeland for a bit."
She had wanted to stroll through the bustling streets of the Kalion Archipelago, enjoy fresh food from around the world, perhaps feed him some life-extending elixir if possible.
In this country, warm and mild throughout the seasons, leisurely enjoying the hidden scenic spots across the archipelago.
Away from stories of a corrupt human crown prince in hiding, threats of civil war, or her own father being in danger.
Even if it seemed a bit frivolous. People can't just keep charging forward without rest.
So.
So, just for a little while, she wanted to put things down and enjoy a comfortable atmosphere. Not so much for herself, but for that person who always lived as tautly as a drawn bow, if only for a moment.
"But what is all this? Being turned away as soon as we set foot on my homeland, then jumping in to infiltrate a perfectly normal business, and now anxiously floating on the sea all night waiting—this isn't... fun."
"You think like a short-lived race."
"What?"
"Perhaps it's from interacting with humans for too long, or because you're young. Sometimes our younger ones think that way."
Edel stretched and laughed leisurely.
"Stand on the shoulders of giants and look down upon truth. The present is but a moment, seasons are endless, and time is tediously infinite. Always be calm, always be elegant, and smile as if you'll live forever. Isn't that what it means to be an elf?"
Impatience is a human flaw. Elves have abundant time, and the concept of frantically trying to use time efficiently doesn't exist for them.
They are chess players, not pieces running around on the board. They should view the world with a broad perspective and contemplate as leisurely as drifting clouds.
Anxiety, tension, desperation—these are the thought patterns of short-lived races. And sadly, this young elf seemed to be in love with a short-lived being.
A pitiful, yet endearing situation.
"If your feelings go beyond momentary play, consider it carefully. After sharing their brief lifetime, you'll spend the long years that follow in mourning."
"Lord Coenulf..."
"I no longer have space in my heart to mourn for anyone else."
No matter how long one lives, the heart has its limits. Throughout Edelplat's long life, throughout that lengthy history of struggle, she had already erected countless memorial towers.
They were all heroes, worthy of everyone's respect. But the time of short-lived races passes like a flash, and older elves eventually stop taking humans into their hearts.
Because while happiness easily becomes desensitized within its threshold, sorrow has no threshold.
Joy becomes monotonous as it accumulates, but grief brings new despair each time.
Ancient elves gradually become like old trees. They become numb like dried-out wood. At some point, if they lose even the slightest passion to move, they become trees and leave this world.
Elves hold tree burials. The largest island of Kalion was made up of a forest of ancestors.
Edelplat Coenulf belonged to a generation that could be considered young even by elven standards, but her time spent on battlefields throughout her life had been faster, rougher, and more painful than that of ordinary elves.
Looking into her one remaining eye, Elfihera bowed her head and murmured softly.
"It's worth it."
"I suppose it is."
Because he's a man worth it.
She smiled warmly and stroked Elfihera's hair.
"E-everyone!!"
Just then, the dock door burst open. It was Oswald. Seeing his urgent face, Elfihera felt her heart sink.
"D-did Lord Yeremov get captured...?"
"No. No, that's not it. Baron Chesterhold is requesting to board right now!"
"What? Baron Chesterhold... the president of the Alchemy Society?! At this hour?!"
"Yes! What should we do?"
"What do you mean? We should welcome him immediately!"
Hearing Elfihera's surprised voice, Edelplat stood up with a smirk.
Well, it seems something is happening after all, she thought.
For someone to attempt secret contact in the early morning after turning them away during the day, especially when dealing with the Privy Council's dueling proxy, the most powerful figure in elven magical society's favorite daughter, and the daughter of the Privy Council Chairman.
"It is suspicious, Yon."
For sufficiently experienced warriors, there develops a certain "sense" beyond rationality. Just as Edel had it, Ivan must have had such a "sense" as well.
In an unfamiliar society, without any information, he would have moved forward trusting only his instincts rather than rational thinking.
A superhuman's intuition approaches precognition in combat situations. This is because one must counter an opponent's offensive faster than neural responses in an extremely sensitized relative time.
So if he now has such deep trust in some "intuition" that he employs such bold measures even in normal times.
"You live each day as if it were war, Yon."
Edel watched Elfihera and the servants busily preparing refreshments and smiled sadly.
"They don't live long. Human lives are so short, yet why do they try to burn each day?"
Just as trees are vulnerable to embers, some elves are fascinated by such brilliantly burning lives.
Perhaps that young elf was also captivated by such flames.
And she too, even she who had pretentiously lectured, was no exception.
So Edel turned her gaze and looked bitterly at the island shrouded in darkness.
Hoping there was still space in her heart to erect memorial towers for others. And hoping it would be ample enough, and far enough in the future.
"It's a trap."
"What?!"
Dozens of tanks contained deep-sea leeches floating in them, each carefully managed in cultivation fluids made of different components.
Ivan coldly observed each one before making his definitive statement.
"The security level of the research wing is pathetically low compared to the external security."
"Um... is that so?"
"An old elf who is wary of his entire race wouldn't be this vulnerable. This is a trap."
Researching magical beasts? That's possible. Magical beasts were nothing more or less than creatures containing magical power.
In this primitive world without research ethics, even experimenting on humans would hardly be considered illegal.
While it might be socially condemned, this is elven territory, isn't it? Elven society wouldn't condemn human experimentation.
Moreover, these aren't demons but magical beasts. It's no different from animal experimentation. What harm would there be if someone discovered this?
So what these people want to hide isn't the experiment.
"It's the results."
Not the experiment, but the results derived from it.
Ivan walked through the research wing. The corridor was dim. At the end of the long corridor lined with numerous research wings was a massive iron door leading to the academic wing and the inner castle.
There wasn't even a minimal security device visible in any corner.
"Um... if it's a trap, should we just go back for now...?"
"No, it's too late."
A security system designed less to prevent someone from entering and more to prevent someone from escaping.
The immigration office's attitude of never exposing the internal situation to others.
And the deathly quiet facility.
"My condition has deteriorated."
Ivan clicked his tongue briefly. Perhaps it was because his condition hadn't fully recovered after being pushed to the brink of death in the last war.
If he had to make an excuse, it might be due to impatience. That urgency of rushing alone toward destruction in a situation lacking both information and time.
Or perhaps it was because he had been extremely suppressing his internal magical power to deceive the magical detection devices installed from the entrance of the research wing.
But those were all just excuses. No matter how much one explains at a gravestone, the dead don't return.
A scout shouldn't be like that. Those who must explore enemy territory risking the lives of their party should never.
-CLANG!!
As soon as he entered the corridor, he heard something heavy falling behind him. Turning around, he saw a massive steel lever jammed into the entrance.
It was a seal that would require time to break through, protected by elven magic that was difficult to immediately comprehend.
"S-sir! What should we do?!"
"Think of it as field training."
-Click.
Ivan drew his axe and gripped it. He wrapped the suppressed magical power around his nerves and slowly took a deep breath.
"I'll tell you what a scout should do."
"What a scout should do?"
"Creating a path ahead of the party."
Attempting a retreat wouldn't be impossible. As long as the enemy isn't immediately visible, withdrawal isn't difficult.
A seal protected by elven magic? Overwhelming physical force can destroy even magic. Breaking through that level of sealing spell isn't impossible.
But that's not right. There's no information gained. After infiltrating at the cost of diplomatic and political issues, they can't return without results.
Especially if he thinks about how much closer his old comrades' deaths come with each wasted moment.
Not twice. Once was enough. Never again would he raise a glass for fallen comrades.
He couldn't immediately know what malice might be hiding in this world. So, what needed to be done was always the same. Walking ahead, seeing first.
A good spy resolves problems before situations explode.
"Creating a path ahead of the party... that's not a scout but... a vanguard...?"
Lucia was confused.
"The Black Magic Society...?"
"Yes, those bastards are working with the demon race. Miss Grikenkos. And Lord Coenulf. Will you help us?"
"But help how?"
Baron Chesterhold took a sip of black tea with a pale face and spoke with difficulty.
"The research wing has been contaminated by their offensive. Ashcliffe, who was in charge of research, has lost his mind... we've currently sealed the main research wing and academic wing."
"Uh..."
"Please stop Ashcliffe. And we need to retrieve the data he was researching until the end. We must submit it to the Privy Council and officially punish the Black Magic Society!!"
"Uhh..."
Elfihera barely held her breath.
Ivan is in there right now, she thought.
At that moment, Edel laughed melodiously.
"Lord Coenulf...?"
"An interesting ploy."
"Pardon...?"
"Very well. Let's wait and see."
"What? But time is of the essence..."
"If it's so urgent, why couldn't your forces suppress it? Were you afraid of us who appeared just in time?"
Edel smirked.
"Were you afraid because this ship that entered like smugglers without immigration clearance contains the Privy Council Chairman's daughter, Beolgreen's daughter, and even the Privy Council's dueling proxy as an escort?"
"Lord Coenulf. This is an insult. Officially..."
"Make an issue of it."
Edel leaned back in her chair leisurely and looked at the baron's anxious face.
"I was curious about what information our scout would bring back. I'm looking forward to finding out what has been happening in this country during the half year I've been away."
"Scout... you say?"
"Indeed. The greatest scout of this era has burrowed into your nest."
Coincidentally appearing at this moment, making contact while avoiding others' eyes, and asking for "help" with something happening in his own territory.
Isn't this obviously a trap? The most perfect concealment is killing all witnesses. If they could bury them all, who would question this matter?
Perhaps it's an overreaction. Most would think so.
But Edel decided to wait leisurely.
Breaking through traps, surviving dangerous terrain, striking deep into enemy territory—the most capable person in all those combat situations had voluntarily entered the enemy's trap.
Good instinct. There really must be something they're hiding, she thought as she turned her gaze out the window.
With her fingertips lightly resting on her sword hilt.