Lundis was staring blankly at what was happening in the cabin. With no intention of hiding it, the interior of the cabin was clearly visible through the half-open door.
"Miss Lundis? What are you doing here?"
"Shh! This is an important scene!"
"...That...?"
Oswald turned his gaze toward the cabin with a bizarre expression.
He could see Ivan, covered in blood and strange drugs, approaching Chesterhold who was kneeling.
"Do you think Kalion will let you live after this, huh?!"
Chesterhold screamed shrilly, filled with rage. Watching him, Oswald shrugged.
"Mr. Ivan is doing what he does best. This probably isn't a pleasant sight for you, Miss Lundis."
"Mr. Oswald, do you happen to know how to torture elves?"
"...Pardon?"
Oswald's shocked gaze turned to Lundis. Her face was hidden in the shadows of the bow.
"They have strong resistance to drugs, mental spells don't work well on them, and they even endure pain well. Especially because they're long-lived species."
"Uh... um... yes?"
"That's why our elders didn't torture elves. They just killed them on sight..."
Right, she's a dwarf. Oswald could finally recall the identity of this small child.
Except for her small stature and disproportionately overdeveloped certain parts, a female dwarf looked like nothing more than an unusual human.
But the true value of this race isn't in their appearance. Dwarves sided with the demon race in the last war, and their main battlefront focused on ambushes, specific facility demolitions, and assassinations and kidnappings of key figures.
Selling military supplies through their powerful technology was just a part of it. The dwarves who went to the front lines were the worst intelligence unit led by the demon race—or so it's known.
That was just over four years ago. While it's impossible to know Lundis's exact age, if she learned something from the war four years ago, it would be—.
"She's like a dwarf straight out of legend... like a painting come to life..."
Lundis whispered blankly. Oswald suddenly looked down at his forearm. Goosebumps had risen all over it.
"Aaaaargh—nnnngh—!!"
Screams continued from inside the cabin.
"Just ask me something, anything—!!"
Only one voice could be heard from the cabin. Only Chesterhold's agonized screams were audible. From beginning to end, Ivan hadn't uttered a single word.
"I don't ask questions."
"Wha—what?!"
"You're the one who needs to answer."
Ivan's low voice was chilling.
"This will help you answer."
"A drug? Ha! I am the Chief Chair of the Alchemy Society! As if I would succumb to mere drugs—!!"
"Quiet. This is a Healing Potion."
"What are you saying! Healing Potions aren't that color—!!"
Screams erupted again. Oswald could no longer bear it and left. The last thing he saw was Lundis's back as she stared blankly at the cabin with an excited face.
They say in a village of one-eyed people, those with two eyes are considered disabled.
Oswald departed for the deck in profound loneliness. The smell of the sea was better than the smell of blood.
Why did the sky have to be so blue today of all days?
About two hours later, Ivan gathered all companions in the cabin. He was cleaning a blood-stained axe and strange surgical tools (or perhaps barber tools).
In one corner of the cabin was Baron Chesterhold, staring at the ceiling with vacant eyes.
Except for his disheveled clothes, there seemed to be no external injuries. He looked as if he had been subjected to a powerful mental spell, but there was no trace of magical energy left.
"Um, Baron?"
"Yes, mother?"
Edel, who had carefully addressed him, nodded at the Baron's response and sat down. The group watched the scene and silently stared at Ivan.
Ivan sat in his seat with an unchanged expression.
"Everyone's here."
"I'm not curious about what you did to that elf, but may I ask what state he's in right now...?"
"Hmm?"
"If he's suffering from serious regressive disorder, honestly, I don't think he'll be of much help."
"Don't worry about that. It's a temporary condition."
Oswald looked at the elf with cold sweat. Baron Chesterhold was smiling brightly while staring at the ceiling.
"Butterfly. Hehe."
"...So did you find out anything?"
"The conflict between the Alchemy Faction and the Black Magic Faction is real. Baron Ashcliffe was actually besieged by the Black Magic Faction and had sealed off the research wing."
"...What?! But then—."
"Yes. That's why most of the troops were outside, why they refused entry to foreigners, and why Baron Chesterhold was out here alone."
Lucia raised her hand and spoke.
"So now we're going after the Black Magic Faction? They seem the most suspicious... I mean, their name is Black Magic. Do they deal with corpses and such?"
"That's a derogatory term."
"Pardon?"
"Black Magician is a derogatory term. They're generally called the Life Faction."
Lucia tilted her head at Ivan's words. The names seem completely unrelated—why would magicians who deal with life be called black magicians...?
Elfihera answered her question.
"Their magical energy is black in color."
"Eh. Just for that reason?"
"And they use other people's life force to cast magic."
The Life Faction was created to reproduce healing and miracles without the aid of divine power. Because they use the life force of organisms as a base resource for casting spells, they sometimes tear out the souls of organisms to use as spell materials.
The problem is...
"Traditionally, they haven't gotten along with the Alchemy Faction. Healing, miracles, anything can be reproduced through alchemy."
During wartime, souls were abundant. The dying could be found anywhere, and it was easy to extract life force from their bodies to cast spells.
But such acts couldn't continue after peace arrived. Additionally, the vast trade routes that opened in all directions solved the Alchemy Faction's chronic problem of "material procurement."
The balance between the Alchemy Faction and the Life Faction broke down right after the war ended. The alchemists were attacking the life mages, denouncing them as black magicians—
"So they cursed Baron Ashcliffe, challenging him to cure it with alchemy. The Life Faction has now paid massive reparations and closed their doors."
"So these people were truly innocent...?"
Oswald looked at Baron Chesterhold with frightened eyes. Chesterhold was drawing pictures in the air while drooling clear saliva.
If this situation reaches the central government, punishment would be unavoidable. Isn't this a case of approaching an innocent company with a smuggling ship, immediately assassinating, kidnapping, and torturing a key figure in what was merely a factional dispute?
The elves would be punished. Most likely it would end with financial compensation. After all, they're the daughter of Beolgreen, the daughter of the Privy Council Chair, and the owner of the Shadow Sword.
But the humans...? Everyone here is affiliated with Krasilov. Can war be avoided? Isn't this grounds for a declaration of war?
Haven't they kidnapped and tortured a high-ranking politician and businessman from an allied country without warning?
"No, they're not innocent."
Ivan shook his head. He picked up his axe and gently placed it on Baron Chesterhold's thigh.
"Daddy?"
"Hmm."
Chesterhold looked at Ivan with a warm expression.
"Elfihera."
"Yes?"
"Do you know why Kalion has mild weather year-round?"
"Well, it's because of the climate control spell... why?"
"Kalion has over twenty islands, spread across a vast sea area. What's needed to manipulate the weather throughout this entire region?"
"It's a spell installed by our distant ancestors. They embedded powerful magical cores—milestones—and created magical formations throughout the land..."
"Do you know the structure?"
"The structure of the climate control magic formation? I know it, but it wouldn't be easy to understand."
"No, not that."
The structure and operating principle of the milestones.
Elfihera nodded reluctantly at Ivan's words.
"It draws in magical energy from within the sea, purifies it, and then transmits it to the magic formation. It's not that complicated, just large in scale, right?"
"Correct. It collects magical energy from within the sea."
Ivan gestured toward Lucia and asked:
"Lucia, explain what we saw in there."
"The deep-sea leeches? You said they were parasite-level magical beasts."
"Yes, and?"
"That it would have been difficult to collect so many...?"
"Correct."
Ivan now addressed the entire group:
"Basically, deep-sea leeches are difficult to capture. They live in the deep sea, and there aren't many of them. Moreover, it's nearly impossible near Kalion. Do you know why?"
"Because there's too little magical energy distribution in Kalion's deep sea for magical beasts to appear—oh...?"
"Yes. So either the magical beasts in that research wing were brought from other seas."
"Or, or..."
Elfihera looked at Baron Chesterhold with a shocked face.
"You turned off the milestone?!!"
"Yes, mother!"
Baron Chesterhold nodded with a bright smile.
"That's... that's a capital offense without trial... no, more than that! Why? If that turns off—."
As recalled before, Kalion's atmosphere creates the most suitable environment for elves to live.
Rich atmospheric magical concentration, always clear and clean air quality, mild temperatures year-round, and perfect humidity control.
Of course, rain falls on land that needs farming. Warm and moist. Moisture drawn from the sea, containing all sorts of nutrients.
The transparent rivers are always drinkable, and all soil is always fertile enough to guarantee excellent harvests.
It's truly a paradise. The development of elves is based on this paradise.
All of this is a legacy achieved in the distant mythical age. A great blessing created by ancestors. So powerful it could be called a gift from the gods.
Turning off one part of it means nothing less than voluntarily giving up those gifts. Why would anyone do such a thing, no matter how good the experiment? For what reason?
"Even if one is turned off, it still functions. It's not that simple a magic. Even if more than half stop functioning, it will be fine for several centuries. That's how perfect and powerful the spell is... But."
"Yes."
Ivan nodded as he looked into Elfihera's frightened eyes.
The "seed of destruction" lurking in Kalion that the quest didn't warn about.
A crisis that will only come after several centuries. Of course, it's right that the quest doesn't warn about it immediately.
What would have to happen to bring down this powerful and massive civilization? A simple invasion by demon races wouldn't be enough. Elves are invincible at sea.
Civil war? Probably not. For elves, civil war is merely a hobby, and the blades they draw against each other never reach a fatal level.
Elves are extremely rational beings. They already know that squeezing someone is more profitable than killing them. Therefore, their civil wars cannot destroy their race.
So, neither civil war nor external invasion.
"Just one of me..."
"Pardon?"
"Ah, no. There's a saying like that."
Oswald looked up, startled. Isn't there a famous saying on Earth? That phrase environmental activists always used when talking about the cause of environmental disasters.
Just one of me won't make a difference.
If all elven corporations... no. If the elven magic societies secretly harbored such thoughts.
What they saw was a powerful magical artifact passed down from ancient times. One that could supply magical energy without problems to a massive magic formation spanning from island to island.
Something that wouldn't affect the climate control grand magic if used immediately, but at the same time would provide "permanent and unlimited magical energy" to their own society.
Ivan nodded at Elfihera's eyes.
"That's the 'seed of destruction' we've encountered this time."
"We need to meet the Queen."
The only society in this country that doesn't use magic.
The owner of the Shadow Sword raised her head gravely with her one remaining eye.
"The supervision of the milestones was the royal family's responsibility. We need to check what's happening in this country."
"My father too! Unless my father is condoning this, how dare they—, no, could it be...?"
Elfihera covered her mouth in shock at her own words.
"Yes."
Ivan agreed.
Who would dare to pull such a stunt without Beolgreen's tacit approval? And not just one or two, but enough societies to affect the grand magic.
If someone did this, given the nature of elves, there would certainly be reports. It would be an easy way to eliminate competitors.
But if everyone is doing it, elves will keep quiet. If reporting could lead to an audit of their own activities, they wouldn't survive.
So, the fact that everyone is keeping quiet about this situation means:
'Almost all elves are tampering with the milestones.'
Without knowing the extent of it. Thinking fortunately no one has reported it. Thus, turning a blind eye to the transgressions of some "knowledgeable elves" with the thought "our level is acceptable."
This scale is impossible without Beolgreen's neglect.
They needed to meet the Elf Queen, and then Beolgreen immediately.
"The Astronomy Society is on the same island as the Eternal Palace. Let's go right away."
Elfihera stood up with a hardened face.