Chapter 64 - The Mausoleum of Moonshadow (6)

“I picked and ate the fruit! S-so talk to me...”

Raguel’s audacious words brought every horror to a stunned halt. They all turned to look at him, their eyes brimming with a tumult of emotions: bewilderment, rage, frustration, resentment, shock, despair, grief... The emotional upheaval spread unpredictably through their ranks.

One by one, the Demons gathered around Raguel, clambering over one another until they surrounded him completely. It was like being trapped inside a vast dome. Only their jade-green eyes shone in the darkness within.

“Ah, ah! That loathsome human has robbed us of even our last hope!”

“Pull out his stomach and cut it open!”

“Wait! Look closely at him!”

“His e-ears!”

“It can’t be!”

Doubt and suspicion began to mingle with voices that had held nothing but rage.

“He’s an elf!”

“H-how?”

A clamor of murmurs spread. Frightened and tense though he was, Raguel waited in silence. If what Maphel’tan had told him was right, they would soon react in a particular way.

“A brother who escaped the moon’s curse! Impossible!”

“No untainted elf can exist!”

“It’s an illusion! We must tear him apart!”

Every elf in this world had fallen and become a Demon. They could no longer even reproduce, much less conceive an ordinary elf. The World Tree, reduced to an Apostle, was no different. It had once produced High Elves, but now it had lost its reproductive functions entirely. In short, an untainted elf could not exist in this age.

Yet the impossible had happened. An elf—a High Elf, no less—stood plainly before them all. The Demons were utterly bewildered.

“You want to kill him?”

“Of course!”

“Wait! This is not for us to decide!”

Just as they began arguing among themselves, a voice laden with bitter sorrow came from somewhere.

“Stand aside, brothers.”

Its strange timbre stood out even amid the uproar. The moment it sounded, the Demons forming a dome around Raguel began to scatter. His surroundings opened up again.

Raguel swallowed hard. Before him stood a darkness deeper than Maphel’tan’s. The being staring intently at him looked like a shadow set upright upon the ground.

From inside Raguel’s clothes, Zal’karin murmured,

“A Dark Elf. The one the End spoke of.”

The figure’s eyes shone jade-green like Raguel’s, and both ears stood pointed. An inexplicable sense of menace emanated from his thin, gaunt body. The Dark Elf was a fundamentally different being from the other Demons in the mausoleum. Having once been a High Elf, he exuded an unapproachable air even after his fall into demonhood.

The air around them grew heavy. The Dark Elf slowly spoke.

“Nothing but emptiness. The fruits of five hundred years have come to nothing.”

The elves had nurtured the World Tree’s seed for five hundred years, intending to raise it into a new World Tree. That entire plan had gone up in smoke because of the boy before him—Raguel.

The Dark Elf’s gaze was empty as he looked at him. Rather than hatred or anger, there was a sense of desolation. In truth, he even seemed somewhat detached.

Raguel began to stammer, his expression tense.

“Th-that isn’t true. The seed gave birth to a High Elf, didn’t it?”

The Dark Elf’s expression did not change.

“By a High Elf, do you mean yourself?”

“... Yes.”

“What difference does that make?”

“With me here, someday our brothers will be born in this land again. Untainted elves, free of the moon’s curse.”

One of the Dark Elf’s eyes narrowed.

“Did you just say ‘our’?”

“W-well, I’m an elf now too... I saw your memories and your suffering, and I share your pain...”

The Dark Elf cut off Raguel’s rambling.

“My brothers and I are Demons. We are no longer elves. We want only humanity’s extinction. Rebuilding the elves? Reviving our race? None of that really matters.”

Raguel spoke in a trembling voice.

“That’s a lie. Then why did you nurture the World Tree’s seed for five hundred years?”

“Lingering attachment. Obsession. The seed would never have sprouted anyway. There are no nutrients in this barren graveyard.”

“B-but!”

“It was all empty hope. Only now that the seed is gone do I realize it.”

The Dark Elf seemed almost relieved.

“There’s still a chance! Someday, I’ll make sure this land—”

“Do as you will. You need not proclaim it to me.”

The Dark Elf started walking past Raguel.

“Wh-where are you going? I haven’t finished!”

“Young elf, I will not harm you. But the horned spirit must pay. He has the key to the Abyss as well, does he not?”

As soon as the Dark Elf finished speaking, a commotion spread among the Demons.

“Are we finally to escape this prison?!”

“Let us tear those loathsome humans apart!”

“Revenge! The day of revenge has come!”

With the seed gone, there was no reason to remain in the mausoleum. They need only obtain the key to the Abyss and escape. Like all other Demons, they would live for humanity’s end.

Things were unfolding just as Maphel’tan intended. There was only one problem: the Demons wanted him dead. That had to be stopped.

Raguel spoke.

“... Do you intend to kill me?”

The Dark Elf turned to look at him.

“As I said, I have no intention of harming you.”

Raguel was the only elf left in this world. The Dark Elf could not bring himself to kill him. Deep within his heart, he still yearned for the glory of the past.

Raguel slowly opened the eye he had kept shut. The emblem of a scythe-bearing fiend was embedded in his left eye.

“If you kill Maphel’tan, I won’t survive either. He is my master, and the one I must protect.”

Apart from their contract of subjugation, Maphel’tan and Raguel had also sworn a pact of protection. Each was the other’s heart, just as Ilea and Maphel’tan were.

The Dark Elf narrowed his eyes.

“... That horned spirit has played us completely.”

It would be difficult to harm Maphel’tan without being prepared to kill Raguel.

Raguel spoke.

“A-are you willing to hear me out now?”

He intended to bring them into Maphel’tan’s service—provided he could persuade them, of course. Maphel’tan had cautioned him not to push too hard on that point.

The Dark Elf said,

“We have nothing to discuss. If the horned spirit tries to manipulate me through you, I will kill him even if it means losing you. The same holds if he refuses to surrender the key to the Abyss.”

The quiet declaration was sincere. Raguel could see no way to persuade the Dark Elf. He had to achieve at least his secondary objective.

“... What if he hands over the key to the Abyss willingly?”

“Nothing will happen.”

The Dark Elf wanted to kill Maphel’tan regardless, but with Raguel’s life at stake, things were different. He was willing to take a step back—on the condition that he receive the key to the Abyss, of course.

Raguel steadied himself with a deep breath.

“All right. Please keep that promise.”

“Then where is the key?”

Raguel pointed back the way he had come.

“Maphel’tan has it. He’s probably waiting for you.”

Without answering, the Dark Elf turned and walked away. Countless Demons followed him.

Raguel sank to the ground as the tension abruptly drained from him. Zal’karin poked his head out of Raguel’s clothes.

“Not bad for a little brat. The End will handle the rest.”

* * *

In the ashen forest, Maphel’tan leaned against a rotting giant tree and looked ahead. A pitch-black shadow was slowly approaching.

‘Even after rotting for five hundred years, a Dark Elf is still a Dark Elf.’

The quality of the demonic energy he exuded was remarkable. In horned-spirit terms, he was a high-ranking Demon with at least three horns.

He came to a stop before Maphel’tan.

“The key?”

“What’s the hurry? We still have days until the full moon. Let us talk.”

The gate to the Abyss would not open until the next full moon.

The moment Maphel’tan finished speaking, the Dark Elf vanished.

‘Damn it!’

Before he could react, the Dark Elf’s hand seized him by the throat and lifted him up.

“Young Demon, spare me your chatter and hand over the key. I have no intention of playing along with your bullshit.”

Murderous intent filled the Dark Elf’s jade-green eyes, along with a rage he could barely contain.

Despite the pain, Maphel’tan curled his lips upward.

“What frightens you so? Surely you aren’t already on guard for fear I might beguile you? Ha ha! How laughable! You, who have existed for eons, frightened of a mere fledgling like me!”

The Dark Elf’s eyes narrowed sharply. He hurled Maphel’tan to the ground. A dull thud rang out, sending ash flying.

“I had better shut your mouth first.”

A mass of black light began to condense in the Dark Elf’s hand.

With an air of feigned innocence, Maphel’tan raised both hands. In one, he held a small wooden token: the Heartcore Fragment, the key to the First Zone of the Abyss.

The Dark Elf strode over and reached out. Just as he was about to seize the Heartcore Fragment, Maphel’tan spoke.

“A witch would have visited this place a few months ago.”

Back then, Ilea had collected World Tree sap while visiting the Abyss. The mention of that day brought the Dark Elf to a momentary halt.

“A witch?”

Maphel’tan chuckled.

“Yes, a witch. Are you willing to talk now?”

The Dark Elf snatched the Heartcore Fragment from Maphel’tan’s hand. His business was finished, but he remained rooted to the spot.

“Are you in league with the witch?”

Maphel’tan shrugged at the question.

“You said you had no intention of playing along. Changed your mind already?”

The Dark Elf frowned, visibly displeased.

“Just answer the question, young Demon.”

“Well, ‘in league’ hardly describes how close we are.”

Their very lives were bound together, after all.

“Are you the witch’s familiar, then?”

Maphel’tan chuckled.

“That would be the World Tree. Not me.”

The Dark Elf’s gaze wavered.

“... Young Demon, how much do you know?”

“More than you, at the very least.”

When Ilea had visited the Abyss a few months earlier, she had entered into a certain contract with the World Tree. As the price of that bargain, the World Tree had become the witch’s familiar.

The Dark Elf knew only that the World Tree had become the witch’s familiar. Maphel’tan, however, knew even the terms of their bargain. Ilea had not told him directly, but having read the original novel, he could hardly be unaware of them.

The Dark Elf was visibly shaken.

“Tell me. Why did the Earth Mother submit to the witch?”

The Earth Mother meant Alquines, the World Tree.

Maphel’tan’s lips stretched into a broad smile.

“I cannot give that away for nothing.”

“Enough insolence. Tell me—”

“Let us make a deal. What will you give me?”

A chilling smile spread across Maphel’tan’s face.