25

How much time has passed since then?

I thought it was about the twenty-fifth day since I had begun observing the elves, but I couldn’t say for certain.

As the sun tilted and evening drew near, I lay sprawled in my base, watching the elves who had come to bathe in the river, same as every day.

They chatted happily, sometimes splashing water at each other, sometimes floating on their backs and laughing together as they gazed at the sky.

I had learned a few things from observing them.

The first was that the belief that elves were all slender was a misconception.

Their breasts were about the same size as those of imperial women, and some were even fat.

It did seem statistically true, however, that many of them had slim waists.

“Looking at the whole, it’s certain there are a lot with model-like figures,” I insisted, having carefully confirmed the naked bodies of a total of 147 elf women (excluding children).

As for men—I didn’t know.

The second thing was that elves used magic in their everyday lives.

For example, reaching things just out of arm’s length, drying clothes, or lighting fires—most of it was done with magic.

They were called “experts in magic,” and seeing how seamlessly it was woven into their daily life, I had no choice but to agree.

I had noticed other small things as well, but nothing yet conclusive; they were only speculations.

I was sure that with continued careful observation, I would gain more certainty—so I burned into my eyes every single move of the elves frolicking stark naked in the river.

And as always, Number Six bounced beautifully.

Despite hearing their chatter daily, I still couldn’t understand a word they were saying.

Even with some knowledge, I couldn’t catch so much as a word against native elven speech.

After all, the only elven phrases I knew were things like “Kuh, korose!” (“Damn it, kill me!”) or “Kisama no you na katō shuzoku ni!” (“By the likes of you lowly races!”), so it couldn’t be helped.

I should have at least learned their everyday vocabulary.

Now that today’s episode of the “Hena River Elven Bathing Theater” had ended, it was time to prepare for nightfall.

As they left the river, Number Six stumbled and dragged a friend down with her, who retaliated by playfully wrestling her down. Other than that, it was the same as usual—they dried themselves with magic, dressed, and returned into the forest.

Watching their backs disappear, I slowly stood and gathered what I would bring.

There was still time before nightfall, so I strolled deeper into the forest.

At night I returned to the base, picked up my gear, and headed toward the river.

The elves avoided the river after sunset, but just to be safe, I always waited until night before going there myself.

At the river, I washed, caught fish, and secured water.

Since morning and midday encounters with elves were too risky, I had naturally fallen into this lifestyle.

When my river business was finished, I put the prepared fish into the cooler box, hoisted my pack, and went to the makeshift “kitchen” behind the base.

At night, I could grill meat or fish without worrying about smoke, so I did enough for breakfast as well.

Meals remained plain and tasteless, but to fix that, I would have to rob people.

If I could seize an entire wagonload of cargo, my food situation might improve—but meeting one stocked with spices and ingredients wasn’t something I could count on.

Thinking that, I bit into grilled fish.

This two-meals-a-day routine of morning and night had begun to feel natural.

Strangely, when I accidentally bit into a fish bone, I found I could crunch it down.

Testing it on animal bones, I found I could chew through those too.

The texture suggested I might as well start eating bone-in meat directly.

After the meal, I went back to the river to wash up.

Then I returned to the base to sleep.

I lay on what could only loosely be called a bed—bird feathers disinfected in boiling water and spread thin, with dead leaves added.

Even such a thing was better than nothing.

So I thought as I closed my eyes.

But I couldn’t sleep.

It has been like that lately.

Even without drowsiness, I could still sleep.

But my mind would not clear.

Like a bone stuck in my throat, something weighed on me.

Should I say I couldn’t make up my mind?

Or that I couldn’t let go?

(I really have to go to the Imperial Capital once…)

There were things I couldn’t leave to gather dust.

Living while deceiving myself might be harder than I thought.

The next morning, after eating the meal I’d prepared the night before, I got ready to leave the base—and found myself staring at Number Six as she led children at the river.

Yeah, I wasn’t good at deceiving myself.

Somehow resisting the elves’ temptations, I finally managed to leave the base, my modified backpack on my back, jogging through the forest.

For now, the cooler box fits inside the empty pack.

(To think there was such a pitfall… elves really couldn’t be underestimated.)

Perhaps the beauty of elves served to draw in the eyes of others?

That would explain why elf women had no resistance to stripping naked in a river, even though anyone might be watching.

In other words, perhaps they exposed themselves as a kind of suggestion—or even spell—upon me.

(What schemers. No wonder the Empire had been forced to taste bitter defeat at their hands.)

That nonsense aside, it was painful being able only to watch.

Especially since my partner’s whereabouts were still unknown—it felt like being taunted with a feast I couldn’t eat.

Perhaps that man had gone mad for the same reason.

I felt a moment of sympathy, maybe because I too feared I might “end up like that.”

But there was no point in thinking more about it, so I stopped.

Heading southeast until noon, I found the ruins of a military base—but as expected, it had been thoroughly destroyed, nearly leveled, leaving me without any will to investigate.

Looking around as I walked, I spotted numerous places with clear signs of deliberate destruction.

(It was easy to tell where the battlefield had been.)

There was no point in staying here.

Geographically, if I kept going southeast, I was sure to find traces of something—and by adjusting my direction from there, I would eventually reach the Imperial Capital.

If possible, I wanted to stop by the towns around the capital.

They were probably goblin nests by now, but with more things I wanted, I wouldn’t mind clearing them out.

In fact, as a sort of grave-tending for imperial citizens, I felt it might even be worth doing.

On the way, I ran into huge bear- and boar-type monsters, but I beat them down casually to make them understand the difference in level.

By dusk, I found the ruins of artificial structures and headed toward them.

They were probably what remained of the town of Aidres, but nearly all buildings had lost their form—no roofs remained.

Compared with Eilqueel or Rukudil, the damage to the man-made structures was severe, leaving nowhere for goblins to nest.

I had known some towns had been battlefields, but seeing the scars firsthand gave me a glimpse of the war’s brutality.

“Gah, hah—”

I let out a breath and sat on a pile of concrete rubble.

Thinking that elves had done this, I felt ashamed of having spent my time peeping so carelessly.

But since I had been humiliating them by peeping at their nudity, maybe we were even.

Tossing in an imperial-style joke, I left Aidres disappointed at its lack of prospects.

(If I go due east from Aidres, I’d reach Jisuvāya… but heading southeast brings me closer to the capital.)

Jisuvāya had a weapons factory, so there might be something there, but like here, it might also have been reduced to flatland.

(Let’s check the routes. First option: a straight course to the capital, stopping by Shuval and Aiza. If I remember right, Aiza had a giant shopping mall. Second option: go east first, pass through Jisuvāya, and make a big loop through several towns—Banai, Koza, Aranvein—before entering the capital. It’s a detour, but the weapons factory is a big prize.)

If I had known exactly how far the Republic had advanced, I might not have hesitated so much.

Information was important, after all.

Running without trouble even under faint moonlight, I had no need to worry about myself. I concluded: “Might as well go straight to the capital, and check the towns on the way back.”

It was a luxury problem, having such high specs that I couldn’t even gauge my limits.

By running all night, I finally saw the iron tower that was Shuval’s symbol.

Dawn had barely broken, so it was still dim, but I could see clearly enough.

And as expected, the tower once called a “symbol of glory” was rusted and leaning, barely recognizable.

(No… the fact that it had stood for two hundred years showed the Empire’s technological might.)

Seeing the tower of my childhood turned into a relic saddened me a little, but clinging to it wouldn’t help.

“After all, I’m not human anymore…”

I muttered with a self-mocking smile.

(Places tied to family memories really hit me hard…)

Even in this form, a bit of sentimentality wasn’t so bad—thinking that, I stepped into what had once been the city of Shuval.

And as expected, they were there.

I couldn’t see them, but I could smell them.

Which meant the place was still intact enough for goblins to live in.

(It’s been a while since I came to this old town. I might as well do some cleaning.)

I set down my pack by a conspicuous signpost and checked the feel of the sledgehammer.

At last, the time had come to use it.

Now, the goblin extermination would begin.