My Slain Dragon Bride

Chapter 268. A Sense of Kinship

They stared at each other for quite some time.

It could not be helped. One of them had no tongue, while the other could not speak, so there was no way they could communicate through spoken words.

"...."

"....."

They simply continued looking at each other.

The first to make a move was the girl.

The shy girl cautiously stepped out from inside the pillar and stood in front of Mori.

A light shone in the young girl’s eyes.

The name of that light was admiration.

To a girl of low birth who had received little proper education, Mori looked like a young lady from a noble household.

Her well-groomed appearance and mature expression gave her the air of nobility. Yet the strange sense of kinship she felt from seeing someone around her own age seemed to act like gravity, drawing her closer.

The girl’s actions gradually became more obvious.

Mori had not become angry or irritated simply because she was being stared at, so it was clear that she was harmless.

Mori merely went over the information she had gathered about the girl in her mind.

The shy girl cautiously took Mori’s hand.

When she saw that Mori did not reject even that, she simply began pulling her somewhere.

Naturally, Mori could not resist and followed wherever the girl’s hand led her.

The place the girl hurriedly took Mori was the backyard of Valdrova Castle.

There was a herb garden there for making medicinal decoctions.

The place, where a pleasant fragrance spread softly through the air, was perfect for young girls to sit together on a mat.

There were three girls there.

"...!"

"...!"

"...!"

They had all been wearing restless expressions, but the moment they appeared, their faces turned pale.

The girls hurriedly pulled the innocent young girl toward themselves.

Fear had settled upon their faces.

No matter how Mori looked at it, she appeared to be the daughter of someone important.

The oldest among them, a girl who looked slightly younger than Mori, stepped forward. She lowered her head and used a twig to scratch letters into the ground.

-I’m sorry, Miss.

’... Sorry?’

Mori searched through the word several times before finally understanding what it meant.

She also picked up a twig, placed it against the ground, and wrote.

-Do you mean that you want to say "I’m sorry"?

The girls looked shocked.

They glanced at one another before writing again.

-Yes, we’re sorry. We’re sorry.

-There is no need to apologize.

-But we were rude, and we were told that we should apologize.....

-I am merely a worker of this castle, while you are guests here. Considering our respective positions, the word "rude" does not apply, so there is no need for you to feel so sorry.

As Mori wrote the characters neatly and effortlessly, the girls stared at her.

-You write really well.

-I must do so in order to communicate accurately and quickly.

-I see.

Mori added one more thing.

-And you cannot call me "Miss."

-Then what should we call you?

-I am a secretary.

The girls looked at one another in confusion before asking again.

The word was obviously very difficult for them.

-Can’t we just call you Miss?

-No.

"Miss" was a form of address used for the daughters of nobles.

Mori was not a noble, so the title could not apply to her.

-Instead, I have a name. Mori.

So Mori taught them her name.

After hearing it, the girls seemed a little excited as they wrote their own names.

-I’m Jessica. This is Rami, and she’s Hurin. And the youngest is Yuri.

Jessica, Rami, Hurin, and Yuri.

Mori recorded all of their names on a page in the book inside her mind.

Once they had exchanged names, the awkward atmosphere eased somewhat.

The girls decided to take one step closer.

-Do you want to play with us?

-I cannot choose.

A slave was always someone who received orders.

-Then let’s play together.

Mori quietly nodded.

The girls took Mori over to their mat.

A bundle of autumn wildflowers had been placed on it, along with all sorts of things made by weaving stems together.

They could hardly be called skillfully made, but there were clear signs of effort in every piece.

The four girls stared intently at Mori.

Her expressionless face seemed cold, while her long, dark-blonde hair and slender figure gave her an unmistakably noble appearance.

The four girls admired Mori’s appearance, then looked at one another and nodded as though they had made a decision.

-We’ll make you a flower crown.

-A crown made of flowers?

Nod, nod.

Mori nodded in response.

The girls began concentrating on making a flower crown to place upon Mori’s head.

Mori observed their movements.

Even though their hands were moving in complicated patterns around one another, they never became tangled or collided.

It was the sort of coordinated movement that could only be achieved after working together for a very long time.

The eldest, Jessica, scratched letters into the ground so that Mori would not become bored.

-Rizera unnie taught us.

Hearing that form of address, Mori could not let it pass.

-Not "unnie." He is a man. A correction is necessary.

-He’s not an oppa. She’s an unnie.

-Rizera, the former secretary, is male.

Jessica looked confused.

But then she tilted her head and argued back.

-But men don’t make flower crowns. And the spirits said that women are better at controlling them. And most importantly, isn’t she tens, hundreds, thousands of times prettier than the prettiest unnies in our village?

-Everything you said is factually correct.

However, reaching the conclusion that Rizera was therefore a woman was a serious error.

Facts could not be overturned.

Yet Mori did not move her twig pen.

Normally, Mori would have insisted until the very end that Rizera was a man and tried to explain it to them.

Confusing someone’s gender was a serious error, but it was not fatal. In fact, it had become an opportunity for them to open their hearts.

Rizera was a harmless elf, and being perceived as a woman would likely make these girls feel safer around her.

Sometimes, a kind lie was necessary rather than a cruel truth.

That thought existed deeper than Mori’s conscious mind, but she herself did not realize it.

The flower crown, woven together by four pairs of hands, was finally completed.

The stems were clearly visible, and the whole thing was terribly flimsy, but the girls wore proud expressions.

-Is it pretty?

At Jessica’s question, Mori nodded with an expressionless face.

-Then why don’t you smile?

-I cannot smile.

The girls did not ask why.

Just as they had lost the ability to speak, they thought that Mori must also have some kind of pain of her own.

-Then are you having fun?

The obvious answer should have been that she could not feel emotions.

But Mori thought for a moment before nodding.

Whether she found it bothersome to have to explain herself, whether she was simply being kind, or whether she truly was enjoying herself, even Mori herself did not know.

Even with the Library of All Things, whenever something was connected to herself, an answer did not always come so easily.

The girls had no way of knowing about Mori’s complicated feelings.

They were simply happy because Mori was happy.

The girls carefully placed the flower crown on Mori’s head.

The weight forming a circle around the crown of her head pressed gently against her.

Mori focused on the sensation resting upon her head.

She felt as though the thoughts that had been rising inside her were becoming sediment and sinking all the way to the bottom.

Just like when Ferda stroked her head, all sense of fatigue disappeared.

The girls gathered around Mori, who was wearing the flower crown, and began whistling.

Surprisingly, every one of their actions made her feel free and peaceful, as though she were a fish swimming through a tranquil lake.

The corner of Mori’s mouth twitched.

***

In the western part of the Cerdes Continent stood a great tree.

It had taken root in this land since the beginning of time and spread its roots throughout the continent.

That was why it was called the World Tree.

Around that tree, the elves had formed settlements and lived their lives.

And at the very center of the World Tree were beings who ruled over them.

High Elves.

The ones closest to the World Tree, whom they called Mother, were aristocratic beings known for their closed-off nature and reverence for tradition.

Because of the nature of the High Elves, opportunities to meet them were extremely rare.

For someone who was not an elf to remain for an extended period in the dwelling of the High Elves was virtually unheard of.

He stood at the highest place, in the position of High Chieftain, looking down below.

"It has become autumn."

The man possessed pale white skin, yet surprisingly, he was a member of the Demon Race.

He had once been called one of the Seven Calamities.

He had been the first to face death, and now he was the last one remaining.

He was none other than Curved Demon.

"Everyone has entered a season of abundance, while you have entered a season in which you must prepare for sorrow."

"Cut the bullshit."

The one who snorted at those words was a middle-aged elf.

He was an elder of a rank immediately beneath the High Chieftain, a High Elf named Cypress.

He had originally been a man with an aristocratic bearing and a strongly restrained demeanor.

"How long do you intend to remember and invoke such an outdated custom?"

But after losing one of his arms, that restraint had disappeared.

Black, vein-like structures writhed across his body, centered around the severed remains of his left arm.

"Is it not the duty of the High Elves to inherit the will of our ancestors?"

"Of course we must inherit the will of our ancestors. But what exactly is the will of our ancestors?"

He raised his right hand and spoke.

"To reach the source of Mother. If our ancestors had seen those monkey-like Mortals using magic, they would have thought exactly as I do."

Cypress openly expressed his deep hatred toward humanity.

And at the same time, one man came to mind.

"Ferda...."

He remembered those three syllables clearly.

The man who used the magic of the Witch, Lucy Phyliaz, and blew off his left arm.

The occasional throbbing sensation constantly reminded the young man that he had been defeated by someone who had only just reached adulthood.

Whenever that happened, anger surged within Cypress’s heart.

"Will you not take the position of High Chieftain?"

Curved Demon asked him.

Cypress calmed his emotions before answering.

"I cannot."

"Do you understand your own limitations?"

"Hmph! It cannot be helped. The position of High Chieftain is not something where merely possessing the qualifications, as the elders do, is enough. You must personally inherit the position before you can control the mana of the World Tree."

Cypress looked up at the blue-glowing ceiling.

There was something resembling a cocoon there, formed from intertwined threads of silk that emitted a white light.

The High Chieftain had lost to Cypress in battle.

However, just before reaching the point of death, the surging mana threads gathered around the High Chieftain and completely enveloped his entire body.

It was a state of absolute defense that did not allow even the slightest intrusion of external mana.

It was almost as though the World Tree itself were telling Cypress that he did not possess the qualifications to become High Chieftain.

But there was no way it could actually say such a thing.

The World Tree was merely a gigantic tree.

Cypress already knew that.

The existence they worshipped as Mother was nothing more than an absurd fantasy, while the concept of restraint was merely a shackle holding them back.

That was why Cypress had made the decision to save his people.

Even now, he believed that breaking free of those shackles and reaching the source was what their ancestors truly desired.

Even if it meant borrowing the power of the Demon Race, whose influence had plunged the continent into chaos.

Taking control of the High Elf clan had proceeded remarkably smoothly.

Their minds, which had been connected as one in the name of purity, the authority of an elder, and the absence of the High Chieftain had all made the process proceed with remarkable ease.

It had been enough to corrupt the minds of the High Elves.

By the time they sensed something strange, it was already too late.

The High Elves were now nothing more than beings beneath Cypress who extracted mana while being consumed by ecstasy.

Cypress was immensely pleased by the sight.

"Did you know?"

Curved Demon glanced at them and casually spoke.

"The source of the mind-control magic that allowed you to take control of the entire clan is someone whom your people drove out."

"Linne, that damned woman?"

Linne, who was regarded as the dark history of the High Elves.

Cypress sneered upon hearing her name.

"I thought that all she was was a traitor who, without knowing her place, joined hands with the Demon Race and spouted the absurd nonsense that she would burn down the World Tree, leading her fellow elves to their pointless deaths. I suppose even a woman like that can be useful sometimes."

"You seem to have quite a grudge against her."

"If this had been in the past, I wouldn’t have been satisfied even if I tore her apart and ate her... But I suppose I’m no different from her."

Cypress chuckled.

"When this is over, will I be able to meet Linne, that woman, again?"

"Do you intend to accept her back as one of your people? As a comrade who borrowed the hand of that filthy Demon?"

He did not answer.

He merely smiled a sinister, meaningful smile.

Curved Demon knew exactly what he meant, and he knew that the man’s words had not changed.

"When the time comes, I will hand her over to you. May I add one thing?"

"What is it?"

"From my perspective, you are even more pathetic than I thought."

Curved Demon also sneered at Cypress’s appearance.

Cypress looked displeased and asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"From where I’m standing, Linne and you seem to be the same kind of people. Yet you sit there dividing yourselves into different ranks. You are so full of contradictions that you cannot even honestly reveal your own desires."

"Linne was a woman who abandoned her clan because of her personal feelings. How could she possibly be the same as me, who acts to accomplish the great cause passed down by our ancestors?"

He sounded utterly confident.

"That’s right. I suppose you aren’t exactly the same."

Curved Demon said nothing more.

Condemnation would be of no help to the plan that lay ahead.

The fact that he hated humanity.

That was all that mattered.

"Please cooperate fully with the destruction of the Arken Empire that is about to begin, Elder Cypress."

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