Accidental Elf: My Passive Allure is Ruining My Plans

The girls’ smiles were truly charming. After staring at the hideous, warped faces of goblins for nearly an hour, finding himself back among the caravans with Remis, Berona, Elise, and Syrus brought Alaster an unspeakable sense of relief. Even the usually insufferable Tagard seemed content to be back on safe ground.

Remis stood directly in front of the elf. Her clothes and armor were drenched in dried sweat, and several stray strands of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail clung to her damp face.

A few meters away, Syrus rested on a wooden crate, his back propped against the side of the wagon. Berona, meanwhile, looked in much better shape than the leader and the tank, who both looked thoroughly spent.

Just then, Elise walked right past Alaster. Looking closely, the elf noticed that the tips of her blonde hair were slightly singed.

«That must have been from my fireball...» he thought with a twinge of worry. «I hope she isn't too upset, or I'll end up paying a fortune to a hairstylist.»

"Guys! You know the drill," Elise announced the moment she reached them. "Give me my arrows!"

Remis smiled at the young archer’s sheer impatience.

"At least wait until we've caught our breath. The Pantheon's gifts aren't going anywhere; we have plenty of hours to claim the loot. First, I want to clean up."

Elise burst into a mocking laugh, doing a poor job of covering her mouth. "You look like you've been working in a deep coal mine."

Remis shot her a look of mock indignation, while Syrus simply chuckled under his breath. Alaster felt himself catching the group’s lighthearted mood, but the amusement faded slightly as a group of villagers walked past.

They silently hauled several carts modified to carry the bodies of those who had fallen defending the caravan.

«This really is a dangerous world,» the elf reflected soberly.

"Well," Alaster intervened to break the heavy tension, "I suggest we grab some lunch before we do anything else, or I'm going to starve to death right here."

"I need a bath more than anything," Remis admitted with a sigh. "Too bad we don't have water to spare."

Alaster looked at her and offered a confident smirk. "If you give me five minutes, I can brew up a few buckets of hot water for you."

The party leader looked at him in surprise. "Are you sure? Won't that burn through too much of your mana?"

"Not at all. A few basins of hot water will only run me about twenty mana points. In fifteen minutes, I'll have recovered almost half of my reserves, so it's really no trouble."

Berona smiled at the offer, and Elise quickly stepped closer to the elf. But before they could say another word, Alaster cut them off:

"Alright, alright. I assume everyone wants to wash off the stench of those goblins."

Syrus stood up heavily, joining the huddle. "I'd like to get in on that deal if possible. I'm caked in goblin blood from the waist down... basically everywhere my shield couldn't cover."

Alaster glanced down at the warrior's legs and held his breath. Indeed, the tank's greaves were stained a thick, dark green that gave off an intolerable odor. The pungent stench turned his stomach, forcing him to take a step back.

"Of course, my friend. I'm not leaving you out. Besides, we can't keep traveling with you guys smelling like demons," Alaster said, his voice slightly nasal as he pinched his nose with two fingers.

Everyone burst out laughing just as the elf, without another word, extended his hands and channeled a stream of warm water directly onto the tank's legs.

The laughter echoed between the carriages until Remis, fighting the urge to giggle again, regained her composure and suggested:

"You should do the same for Tagard. He has it way worse."

Syrus, who was using the running water to scrub his boots, let out a booming laugh. "He's so covered in that green slime we had to quarantine him so he wouldn't contaminate the rest of us."

Alaster pictured the stubborn greatsword warrior caked in slimy green crusts and couldn't help but laugh. While keeping the stream of water focused on Syrus, he glanced over at Remis, who was chatting warmly with Berona.

A spark of mischief flashed through the elf's mind.

"Hey, Remis!" he called out.

The warrior, who was still breathing heavily from the physical exertion of the battle, turned at the sound of her name, only to take a direct stream of warm water straight to the face.

Alaster cut the flow instantly, feigning absolute surprise. "Ah! Sorry about that, my hand slipped."

"Your hand slipped...? Sure, of course it did," Remis spluttered, squeezing the water out of her hair.

She was thoroughly drenched, but seeing the look of absolute innocence on the elf's face, she hesitated for a second, wondering if it really had been an accident. However, a second stream of water that zipped right past her ear shattered any illusion of innocence.

With a rapid movement, the leader ducked behind a nearby cart.

Berona, who had been mocking her teammate, went quiet as the stream now aimed for her. She bolted for cover, while Elise, anticipating the disaster, spun around and fled before she could get soaked.

Alaster redirected the water back to Syrus, who calmly went back to washing his legs.

"Give me a sec, I'll grab some soap," the tank said.

The blonde warrior walked to the back of his wagon, leaving a trail of wet drops and making a loud squelching sound with his soaked boots. He opened a compartment in the vehicle’s floorboard, pulled out his large leather duffel bag, and extracted a thick bar of soap.

"We should probably find a secluded spot where the girls won't see us so you can change into clean clothes after you wash up," Alaster suggested. "And let's hunt down Tagard so he can clean himself up too."

After a short while, both Syrus and Tagard were completely clean, enjoying a pleasant gust of warm air that Alaster projected to dry them off.

Nearby, draped over a makeshift rack of branches, their damp clothes fluttered gently under the same warm breeze. Both warriors had changed into much more comfortable clothes: simple, round-necked linen shirts, dark trousers, and ordinary brown boots—an outfit meant for resting, not for battle. Their armor pieces remained lined up to the side, waiting to be oiled later.

"This wind magic is incredibly convenient, Al... Too bad I never had a knack for these things," Syrus remarked, closing his eyes as he soaked in the warm breeze.

Tagard, sitting beside the tank, flashed a smug grin. "Yeah, it's a very handy household trick... Don't suppose you have a spell for washing underwear? I've got a few dirty pieces and..."

The redhead’s chatter was cut short by a tiny, rapid buzz heading straight for his face.

BZZZT!

Tagard began coughing violently, choking. "A bug! A damn bug flew right into my mouth!" he wheezed amidst a flurry of curses.

Alaster casually lowered his foot.

Using the flow of the warm wind, he had kicked a tiny ladybug resting on a blade of grass with surgical precision, sending it flying directly into the loudmouth warrior's open mouth.

"Disgusting! I swallowed it!" Tagard complained, spitting onto the ground.

«Karma,» Alaster muttered to himself with a satisfied smirk.

Syrus let out a booming laugh.

The elf shut off the wind and walked over to the carriage where his travel gear rested. His black leather bag was large, though he knew perfectly well it was almost empty; the vast majority of his belongings were safely tucked away in his dimensional inventory.

However, inside the physical backpack, he kept a few things just to keep up appearances—including a thick cloth pouch containing a couple of pounds of ground coffee, his ultimate, non-negotiable beverage.

A few meters away, over a campfire, a pot of water was already beginning to steam. According to what the girls had explained, goblins commonly dropped bread as loot, so the general plan was a cold lunch of bread with butter and dried meat.

But Alaster had better plans.

He stood up, carrying the bag of coffee in one hand along with a metal pot, several mugs, and a makeshift strainer. He was determined to brew a proper drink.

He walked over to Syrus, who was sitting with obvious relief on a wooden crate, rubbing his tired calves. The blonde man reached into his bag and pulled out a package wrapped in cheap cloth about the size of his fist. Alaster recognized it instantly: it was a standard block of common butter.

"Hey, Syrus," the elf called out.

The man looked up, his nose wrinkling with curiosity. "What's up, Al? Need something?"

"I need your help with this. Do you know how to make coffee?"

Syrus blinked, looking slightly lost. "Coffee? No, I don't really know how it's done." Then he offered a simple smile. "But it can't be that hard, right? You just dump the powder in the water and that's it."

Alaster frowned in mock horror. "Forget it. I'll brew it myself when I'm done helping the girls. Take this for now."

The elf handed him the coffee bag, the pot, the mugs, and the strainer. Syrus took them willingly.

"Just leave them near the fire. And don't you dare try to make it yourself; you're a coffee heretic," Alaster teased before walking away.

He headed to the side of the main carriage, which had its canvas tarps completely drawn shut. He tapped gently on the wooden frame.

Knock, knock.

"Al... is that you?" Elise's voice asked from inside.

"Yeah, it's me," he replied clearly. "I came to dry your hair so we can grab some lunch."

Several muffled whispers shuffled inside the vehicle. "Poke your head in, we can't hear you very well from out there," Remis's voice called.

As he peeled back the canvas slightly to look inside, Alaster was suddenly greeted by three pairs of bare, exposed legs. The girls were in the middle of changing.

The elf made a monumental effort to keep his expression completely deadpan and show absolutely zero surprise.

"Look!" Elise said, spinning around.

What she was wearing wasn't standard underwear, but a striking yellow bikini. "How does it look?"

"It looks perfect on you," Alaster replied with total honesty. "But why are you wearing that right now?"

Elise smiled brightly as she slid one shapely leg into a dark skirt, followed by the other, before fastening it at her waist. "I don't have any other clean underwear left."

The archer pulled on a simple, sleeveless short linen shirt, letting her still-damp blonde hair fall over it.

Alaster kept his head poked through the carriage opening, internally amazed by the absolute naturalness and ease with which the girls changed right in front of him, showing not the slightest hint of modesty or discomfort.

Behind Elise, who wouldn't stop chatting, Remis and Berona finished dressing in very similar outfits—though the thief's outfit had long sleeves, and she still preferred to wrap herself in her signature cloak.

Fortunately for his self-control, the elf had been pushed to his absolute limits by Mila in the past, so his mind remained perfectly calm.

Once the three of them were ready and stepped down from the carriage, Alaster activated his wind magic once again. Although the spell was originally designed to dry clothes at high speeds, he dialed down the temperature to a mild warmth, successfully drying all three of their heads of hair in under a minute.

The girls thoroughly enjoyed the sensation, especially Berona, who closed her eyes in pure bliss as she shook out her dark locks.

To finish, the mage cast one last warm current over the armors and clothes they had washed earlier, leaving them spotless.

"Al... do you want to have lunch with us? Forget about those rowdy guys," Elise suggested with a knowing smile.

"I'd love to, but I already have plans to brew some coffee with Syrus and Mr. Sunshine."

"Mr. Sunshine?" Berona repeated, confused.

Remis let out a resigned sigh beside her. "He means Tagard."

Berona's brow furrowed instantly. "You'd seriously rather have lunch with that lunatic?"

Alaster smiled as he began walking toward the edge of the forest. "Actually, I thought it would be a good idea for all of us to get together and eat."

"Sounds good to me," Remis agreed. "But where are you going now?"

"I'm going to water a tree," the elf replied casually.

"Ah, right. Go on then."

Alaster stepped into the thick undergrowth. Remis watched him walk away and then turned to the thief.

"Berona, go after him. I don't want him getting ambushed while he's by himself."

Berona nodded and slipped into the bushes without making a single sound.

In a small, secluded clearing, Alaster looked around to make sure he was entirely alone. «Just plants,» he muttered to himself.

«Alright, time to pull out some meat... and maybe some strawberry biscuits,» he thought quietly, licking his lips.

He had a massive craving; out of habit, he usually had a mid-afternoon snack, so he planned to retrieve the food from his inventory and discreetly place it in his leather bag to pretend he’d been carrying it all along.

«Some milk for the coffee too. I'm sure the girls will love that.»

He closed his eyes for a moment and began channeling mana into his ring. After pooling a hundred units of energy, he triggered the spell to tear open a large dimensional rift in the air.

He stared at the glowing tear in space with immense satisfaction.

«Excellent, now I have plenty of space to pull everything out comfortably...»

"What is that...?" a soft voice whispered right behind him.

Alaster recognized the female voice instantly.

He turned his head with extreme, agonizing slowness and locked eyes with Berona, who was staring at him with wide, saucers-like eyes from the shadow of a large tree.

The elf stood frozen for a silent second, processing the situation, before responding with absolute, deadpan seriousness:

"Uh... would you believe me if I told you it's because I shook my business too hard?"