Even a Scoundrel Gets Tired

66 – Mistaken (2)

My brain simply can’t keep up with this sudden turn.

She’s calling *me* a half-elf?

Even with my ignorance of the various races,

I know well enough what a half-elf signifies.

What I’m curious about is, why is she asking *me* this question?

My face must have betrayed the full weight of my questioning, because

Sylvia’s eyebrows lowered further.

*

Half Elf

A product of love between an Elf and a Human, and

a life destined for unhappiness.

Elves are fundamentally lacking in desires.

It would be stranger if those who live their entire lives within nature

were overflowing with them.

But even amongst them, very rarely,

Elves who discover love are sometimes found.

It’s not that Elves can be entirely without a reproductive urge.

They are, after all, living things.

Even if only for the preservation of their species.

The majority of Elves marry within their own kind, but

there certainly are Elves who don’t.

Love doesn’t follow the dictates of the mind, after all.

And so, an Elf marries another race, one that is not their own,

and builds a home, has children.

And those children are called Half Elves.

Those who don’t know any better say they are

beautiful symbols of love that transcends species.

But the child born between them is

welcomed nowhere.

To the Elves, they are hated and treated as enemies, the proof of those who abandoned

their racial pride.

The other races are somewhat less discriminatory,

but that is only to say, *less*.

Because there are so many people in this world who

deem anything different from themselves to be *wrong*.

Even if an Elf is normally good-natured,

preconceptions are sure to arise first.

Therefore, a Half Elf is, in other words,

They’re sometimes called “unwanted children.”

And sometimes, half-elves curse their ears.

Ears that are pointed and jutting, like an elf’s, a symbol of their innate connection to nature.

If only they could be rid of these ears,

they hope they could escape their elven heritage and belong to another group.

Natural affinity, after all, can be hidden somehow.

So, they cut.

They cut, they grind, they whittle away.

Creating ears that are blunted.

Just like a human’s.

Surprisingly, many half-elves live blended into human society like this.

Silvia, recalling this fact, looks at the man before her again.

Blunted ears.

Clearly, undeniably human ears.

But, how had he seen?

He certainly wasn’t looking at her.

He was seeing the spirits that hovered around her.

The moment she realized his gaze followed the giggling spirits’ faces,

her pupils must have widened to an unprecedented degree.

Humans these days neglect nature.

They carve away forests, dig into the earth, and block the rivers’ flow.

They do not realize that everything they wear, eat, and sleep on

comes from nature’s bounty.

So, they absolutely could not,

possibly possess the natural affinity to see spirits.

Yet, he saw.

More clearly than anything.

Silvia thought.

Is it truly by chance that the place the Queen sent her has a human who can see spirits?

Or is it a half-elf hiding their identity, mingling among humans?

Silvia, famous even among elves for her cool head and efficient nature,

naturally deemed the latter more likely.

So, she asked.

Waiting for a moment when they were alone.

Because perhaps, she could save a soul.

And with the answer that followed,

Sylvia could see, for the first time, the red of her own ears.

*

“…So, you mean you knew

that I am a half-elf?”

“Yes.”

“….?”

“These days, elves are not as prejudiced

as you might think. It will be hard, but won’t you return?

It took a long time to resolve her misunderstandings.

She didn’t even know what a spirit was that I had seen,

nor did I know the reason why I could see it.

That this was the first time she’d ever seen an elf.

Only after I told her my parents’ names and family relations

did she seem to believe my words.

As soon as she understood the truth,

she bowed her head to me quickly.

“I… I’m sorry! A needless misunderstanding…”

“…It’s fine. Please, rise.”

“….”

The face she lifted was still

expressionless, but she couldn’t hide the red tips of her ears.

Even as she looked up, she was still hesitant,

as if there was something else she wanted to say.

“…Did you have something else to say?”

“Ah… no, I just thought you were more mannerly

than I had heard.”

“…?”

“Your appearance is so different from the rumors…”

“That’s enough, we’ve arrived.”

I could guess what she was going to say, so

I cut her off mid-sentence.

We had arrived at her dormitory in the midst of all the chatter,

and I turned my back to her immediately.

I heard something being said from behind,

but I made an effort to ignore it.

Hoping that we would never be entangled again.

*

“Young master, you’re back?!”

“Yes.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No, prepare something for me.”

“Yes!”

Ella’s bright smile faded behind me as I retreated into my room, sealed myself away.

For the sake of the human creation research, progress stubbornly refusing to be made.

Implanting a soul within a physical form felt fundamentally impossible.

At most, I could manipulate two souls at once.

But even with both those souls poured into a single body, the result remained the same, lifeless.

Was gender the issue? I experimented, switching between male and female vessels.

Was it physique? I created bodies of all heights, all weights.

Was magic the key? I pumped the body full of magical energy, a rhythmic pulse.

Perhaps the material of the vessel? I even tore flesh from my own body, grafting it onto the new creation.

Yet none of it yielded any measure of success.

Finally, I decided to shift my approach.

Instead of forcing a soul *into* the body, what if I placed an object, one capable of *containing* a soul, within the body?

Placing the soul-vessel within, and manipulating the soul within it…

Surely a simpler task than blindly stuffing souls into artificially crafted flesh.

But I soon met another wall, a frustrating impasse.

Where am I to find an object capable of holding a soul?

Only one thing came to mind.

Shincheol, Orichalcum.

The legendary ore, said to be able to contain *anything*.

Once, a dwarven smith had told me,

“It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the ultimate goal of every smith is to forge an artifact of Orichalcum!”

Dwarves, undeniably the foremost race when it comes to manipulating minerals.

A race capable of turning even the most common pebble into a work of art.

For a dwarven smith to speak of it thus, Orichalcum must be an intensely difficult material to refine,

exceeded only by the difficulty in finding it in the first place.

If Orichalcum existed within my grasp, containing a soul would, undoubtedly, be simple enough.

It’s merely that I have no means to acquire it.

Therefore, I needed to discover a different path.

A sudden, sharp thought pierced through me.

‘…Spirits…?’

Silvia had called that thing floating in the air

a spirit.

Which meant a spirit was an ethereal being.

An ethereal being with its own will and special power.

And to summon a spirit, one

absolutely needed something called a “medium,” I’d heard.

If that were true, then the medium

held the spirit within, releasing it upon summoning.

Then, would it be possible to find a spirit-imbued medium,

expel the spirit within, and then imprint it with a different ethereal being?

Theoretically, it was plausible.

Only, how to find one…

‘…Not impossible, actually.’

Because there was a spirit summoner right nearby.

*

The next morning,

the moment I entered the classroom, I was met by a throng of people

and, at their center, the serene glow of jade caught my eye.

Silvia, the person currently with the most

contact with spirits in the academy, *her*.

I was observing for any opportunity to approach

when suddenly someone else grabbed my wrist.

“…It’s been a while, Brother.”

“It has been, Saintess.”

The Saintess, Hildegard.

“I have something I wish to discuss,

would you mind moving to a different location?”

“…Very well.”

I agreed to her request to move elsewhere,

and exited the classroom.

“I apologize, this is the only place

where we can speak privately.”

“It’s alright.”

And so, the place we arrived at, just the two of us,

was none other than the academy’s infirmary.

If she had a secret to tell…

I considered whether some other place might not be better, but

it was merely worry.

“The professor in charge here is a follower of our side, so

there’s no need to fret about any leaks,” she said.

“..Is that so.”

“I’ll get straight to the point, Brother.”

“Yes.”

“You know the identities of those who attacked the Order, don’t you?”

A tone not simply holding belief, but utter conviction.

Eyes that seemed to say the only thing left for me was to answer.

“Why… Why do you think that?”

“The Pope told me,

it seemed you and the one who appeared to be their leader

knew each other.”

“…”

“I beg you, please tell me.”

With those words, the Saintess bowed at a perfect ninety degrees.

In the tone that followed, a plea not just present, but

dripping like water.

“We cannot let the deaths of our followers be in vain…

The Pope has also permitted their punishment.”

“….”

“If you find it difficult to say directly,

even a clue will do, so please…!”

Her back remained bent, showing no sign of straightening.

In any case, the Lunar Order was a place I’d resolved to eliminate someday.

If the Order offered support, there was no reason to refuse it.

The Saintess and the Pope were considerable fighting strength as well, and

countless followers would be behind them.

“..I understand. Then─”

“Is this the infirmary?”

Just then, the infirmary door opened and

someone entered.

Her jade hair billowing in the breeze.

Sylvia Restonil.

“….”

“..Oh?”

And it happened to be at the worst possible moment,

with the Saintess bowing before me.