71 - A Certain Elf’s Soliloquy 1

If my fading memory was correct, there would have been no particular reason.

One must never forget that they were a part of nature—taken on its own, that admonition made the Natural Harmony Committee not seem so bad.

We cannot live if separated from nature—I thought those were good words, and I believed they were true.

They preached coexistence with nature, founded an organization with harmony as its banner, and lived and died under a lofty ideal.

However, why the number of people increased who also “sought coexistence with monsters” from there remained a mystery to me.

There had been no special reason for me to join the Natural Harmony Committee.

I knew my parents were members of the organization, but I could say clearly that had not been my reason.

At most, my parents had only “kept their names on the roster” with that level of involvement, but for certain people with dangerous ideas, that sort of thing had not mattered in the least.

Dragged into a near-suicidal monster survey, my parents never returned.

Witnessing that tragedy, the reason I joined the Committee had not been “to prevent such a tragedy from ever happening again,” but simply “no particular reason.”

It had not been because I had some deep thought, nor because I had to find a way to live alone starting tomorrow.

Truly, there had been no reason.

As a result, my clan Forshna skillfully pulled the strings of the situation and succeeded in taking the reins of the Natural Harmony Committee.

By virtue of that achievement, I came to hold influence at a young age within my clan.

Then began the storm of marriage proposals.

I was fed up with the adults who gave bouquets to a child not even of age.

For the men whose eyes roved over my well-developed body, I felt nothing but disgust.

That was why I created a place to run away to—and that happened to be the Natural Harmony Committee; one never knows what life may bring.

Because my presence approached the Committee, various troublesome matters arose, but my standing as “the child who lost her parents in an incident caused by extremists” had a large influence.

As a result, I became someone close to the top of the Committee.

That said, my honest impression had been that I did not care about the Committee, so I wanted a suitable distance from it.

What helped me in that was the insane ideal of “coexistence with monsters.”

First, I posed the question to them: “Does there even exist a monster with which coexistence is possible?”

Naturally, it was a discussion that had been repeated many times before.

The crazy ones nodded as if it were only natural.

“Of course. Otherwise we would not make such a claim,” they all said in unison, and as I remembered, I said this to them:

“Then bring that monster before me. If coexistence is possible, it must understand our language, or at least have the will to try. Binding it with rope is utterly unacceptable. Bring it to me walking at your side like a friend.”

One side merely accommodating the other is not what you call coexistence.

By emphasizing that point and showing some understanding of their ideals, I kept my distance from the average members.

Before I realized it, I had become a central figure of the Committee, and even I could only clutch my head wondering, “How did it come to this?”

By that time, much time had passed since I became an adult, and I had become someone relied upon; I had enough pride to know I could move people, even counting among the most influential within my clan Forshna.

The number of men proposing to me never decreased, but I simply could not feel that way toward anyone.

Apparently, I had become someone who could not rid herself of disgust or wariness toward adult men and simply could not accept them.

It had not been with the intent of overcoming that, but I came to look after children.

They were children at an age of excessive mischief, but when they were happy to see a smile return to my face, I realized I had lacked any emotional room before.

Since then, I began to prioritize time with the children and even played at being a teacher.

It was good that I smiled more—enough to notice it myself—but there was a little too much physical contact from the boys.

I laughed it off, thinking it might help me overcome my dislike of men.

Then one day my underwear was stolen.

Even I got angry at that, but apparently the boys did not know the meaning of “learning a lesson,” as they became even more eager to target my underwear.

‘Very well, if that’s your little game, I’ll take you on,’ and each day became a contest of wills with the children.

I thought if I made them truly understand the awe-inspiring power of adults, excessive mischief would subside.

The result was a crushing defeat.

Day after day, I was at the mercy of the children who tried every trick to strip me.

It was then that a grim report was delivered.

The revival of the “Forest’s Nightmare”—the monster that had devoured countless elves once again appeared alive before us.

As the Council of Sages discussed countermeasures, I felt a little lonely at losing my time with the children, but the problem ended in an unexpected way.

News arrived that the “Nightmare” had been devoured by another monster.

Apparently, there had been talk of preparing a sacrifice and driving it away, but to think some monster ate that abomination even the Sword Saint Schvard could not finish off—what kind of monster had appeared?

With a new threat to the village, those with positions within the clan were busy again in the Council of Sages.

I was among them, but I thought the most we could do for now was prepare for an attack; however, most in the Council were optimistic that it was not a “Nightmare” against which magic would not work.

Yet, to what extent magic would work on that monster remained unknown, and I thought we should not draw conclusions lightly.

Worried for the children, I returned once to confirm evacuation sites and security arrangements.

I had steeled myself that I would be busy for some time after that, but then I overheard something unbelievable.

It was about the monster that had devoured the “Nightmare,” but the problem was its content.

“They revived the forbidden magic of domination and brought the ‘Nightmare’ under control.”

“Who in the world would do such a thing?”

The answer was “Kirishia Reibern”—the survivor of that clan once called magic-mad.

She was a convincing enough figure, but when I learned she had summoned the eldest son of Zesato, I rushed out.

Zesato and Reibern had no small amount of bad blood.

I had to do something before a rash act occurred.

In the end, it was settled by tossing the whole matter to the Council of Sages, which was fine, but apparently Lady Kirishia still believed a woman of Forshna stole her man.

She did not think it was because she only ever buried herself in magic and neglected her man; the Reibern blood—no, the Reibern curse—was a troublesome thing.

I ordered members of my clan to keep watch on the new monster “Argos,” and I went to check on the children.

Just as she said, there was no doubt the crisis had passed.

All I could do was pray this peace would continue.

Busy days continued for a while after that.

I took every precaution and considered how to respond if Argos ran wild.

I showed my face at the Council of Sages, but the discussions were the same as always.

Was it a sin for having revived a forbidden magic, or should she be rewarded for preventing the village’s crisis?

Time passed without anyone reaching an answer.

During that time, the aged representatives who had been absent for a while appeared, perhaps surprised there was still no conclusion.

They watched the meeting for a while and repeatedly asked about what had transpired.

Then the faces of those usually noisy long-living ones changed.

“Forbidden magic is unacceptable. No matter how great the threat, if we touched it, the meaning of why we fought the Empire is lost, and even our cause is gone. Remember why we paid such a price and burned the Empire.”

At the heavy words of the elder Odel, those who had survived that era nodded.

But that did not mean a conclusion was reached. The opinions of the three were taken seriously, yet it still took some time before a decision, and in the end the head of Zesato pressed through with “We cannot leave forbidden magic unchecked.”

It would still be some time before people were sent to Lady Kirishia, but I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking, ‘This will be the end.’

Argos would likely be killed while still under domination.

Reports said he was not being fed properly; I approached several times to check, but Argos only silently watched me, as if observing.

They said it was “forbidden magic that robs even the will of its victim”—if that were true, then was his gaze only my imagination?

No matter the outcome, I understood Argos had no future, and I visited several times, at least to distract him from his hunger, bringing him fruit.

Whether it settled in his stomach, I could not say, but that was all I could do.

However, this act would later change the way I lived.

At the time, everyone believed Argos was under domination and thus safe.

Myself included—