I’ve Reincarnated into an Elf - Ch 05

Chapter 05

“Princess, huh… and mother, whatever brought them to a rural place like this, they must be pretty important to the beastfolk, right? This could be a nice opportunity.”

Back in the game, whenever Eldmir got a chance like this, he’d usually take advantage.

Sometimes he’d capture and use them as captives, and other times, he’d help them out to get on their good side and reap rewards later.

But that was mostly when the other side was allied or at least neutral toward him.

“If you do this, it’s going to be the point of no return for the elves and beastfolk,” Esiria said, resting a hand on Eldmir’s shoulder.

“Eldmir, even with races that don’t get along, if there’s enough effort from both sides, they can live together peacefully. Attacking someone just because they’re an enemy isn’t the only way. Think about it, Eldmir. Remember how all the races lived together during the First Era—how our ancestors managed to live together in harmony.”

“I don’t know if the beastfolk would even remember or care about those times.”

Esiria gave a warm smile.

“That’s what harmony is, Eldmir. It’s about giving room, even if they don’t.”

“That’s not harmony, that’s just giving in.”

“Well, if we take the first step, maybe they’ll start to match us halfway. Isn’t that what you’d call an opportunity?”

Esiria looked over at the beastfolk.

“Maybe it really is an opportunity—to shift things with them from violence to harmony.”

Elves never attack first. They’re a race that always adapts to their opponent.

Elves are non-aggressive by nature, and even when they have to fight, they never forget the memory of the First Era’s peace.

That’s why they were the first to be defeated—they valued harmony with every race above all else.

“Like the First Era… right?”

“Yes, just like the time when everyone lived and found happiness together.”

Wishful thinking.

Saving these girls won’t magically make the elves and beastfolk friendly with each other.

Esiria probably just wants to save them because they’re kids.

“You’ve got it bad, mom. You and every elf. You guys are the only race that dreams of going back to that era.”

Some individuals or small groups might hold onto memories or ideals of that time. But an entire race?

Only the elves are ones who remember those times and expect they can be together like that again…

And that’s why they were the first to be defeated.

“I don’t think this choice is going to end well for the elves. Peace with the beastfolk? Not a chance. The only reason I’m going along with this is purely…”

Eldmir trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

For some reason, he couldn’t say it. He’d intended to say he was only doing this because it was his mother’s request.

Yet, for whatever reason, the words wouldn’t come out. It was almost as if a quiet voice was whispering in his ear, saying that wasn’t really why he was doing it.

The thought was enough to tie his mind into knots.

The feeling lasted just a moment, but it was enough to mess with Eldmir’s thoughts. Countless ideas and emotions flashed through his mind like lightning.

Why was he feeling like this? What was this nagging thought that wouldn’t let him be?

Shoving aside the confusing emotions, Eldmir took a deep breath.

“Let’s go. If we’re going to help, we need to heal that warrior first.”

Eldmir waited for Esiria to go ahead. Not only was he not fluent in the beastfolk’s language, but he also felt awkward trying to talk to someone he’d just been debating whether to kill.

It was a reminder to himself that, for all his experience, he was still soft in some ways.

And in the end, that’s just how this world is.

You never know when you might have to kill someone, or when it might be your own end.

Even back when this world was just a game, Eldmir had faced countless deaths. He knew he had to be prepared.

Sensing Eldmir and Esiria approaching, the beastfolk tensed, baring claws and fangs, tails puffed up, and throaty growls escaping from them.

Even the injured wolf warrior forced himself up, his tail stiff in a display of defiance.

To show they meant no harm, Esiria raised her hands.

“We’re not your enemies, children of Kelga.”

Kelga was the god of the beastfolk, the first beast himself.

“Think they understand the Common Tongue?” Eldmir muttered quietly to Esiria.

“We’re beastfolk, not animals, elf.”

“Whoa.”

To his surprise, the wolf warrior himself responded, leaving Eldmir in shock.

The warrior’s voice was weak and broken, taking breaths between syllables. But that wasn’t the only surprise—the warrior had replied in Elvish.

A wolf beastfolk who knew Elvish? Now, that was rare. Eldmir’s face tightened for a moment before he bowed his head respectfully.

“My apologies, wolf warrior. I meant no offense.” He used the Common Tongue this time, his tone careful and polite.

The wolf warrior looked back at him, eyes wide, clearly surprised by Eldmir’s respectful apology.

Even the young catfolk girls who had been so on edge seemed astonished.

After a moment, the wolf warrior gave a slow nod, though he seemed barely strong enough to breathe.

Seeing him in that state Eldmir felt uneasy.

Just a moment ago, he’d been ready to kill these defenseless people without a second thought.

“As long as you follow the forest’s customs, we’ll welcome you as guests,” Esiria said warmly.

The catfolk girls exchanged glances, clearly unsure what to make of this.

They eventually looked back at the wolf warrior with anxious, questioning eyes, their matching movements enough to make Eldmir nearly smile.

“What… is your goal?” the wolf warrior managed to say, his words weakened.

Esiria slowly lifted her hand. “Atir.”

“Oh, great, this isn’t exactly my specialty,”

Artir muttered, but meanwhile, he began to summon his magic, gathering energy within himself.

As his power blazed, a fiery light sparked, then shot toward the wolf warrior.

The flames enveloped him for a moment before seeping into his body.

The catfolk girls looked horrified, one even pointing her claws and rushing at Esiria, assuming it was an attack.

“Calm down, kitten.”

The young girl could barely have been ten years old. Her clumsy attack was easy for Eldmir to intercept, holding her small wrist to stop her.

Despite her size, the girl was surprisingly strong, giving him a brief moment of surprise.

For a child, she had an impressive strength—still, it wasn’t nearly enough to worry him.

“Look, kid. We’re not attacking your guardian.”

Where the flames had touched, they now glowed softly, burning steadily but gently.

These weren’t ordinary flames, but the mystical flames of a spirit—able to burn only what they chose, even if that thing were an abstract concept.

Right now, those flames were burning away the feeling of “wounds” from the wolf warrior.

Not by cauterizing the injuries in some crude way, but by erasing the very idea of them from existence.

“Mew?”

Seeing the effect, the catfolk girl blinked in surprise. Eldmir felt her tense muscles loosen and gently let go of her wrist, watching her going back to her guardian’s side.

“Think you can fully heal him, mother?” Eldmir asked.

“Not completely. His injuries are severe. Even with the flames, there will be lasting effects,”

Esiria replied.

Well, that was to be expected. The healing flames weren’t a miracle cure.

“We’re not here to harm you,” Esiria said, as the wolf warrior’s breathing began to calm.

“I accept… your kindness,” he replied, his voice gradually regaining strength.

The catfolk girls around him immediately strated to chatter, their eyes wide, and their words filled with us expectation.

They were speaking in beastfolk tongue, and Eldmir could only catch bits and pieces.

The wolf warrior listened calmly before responding in beastfolk tongue himself, his tone clear but soft, enough to leave the girls speechless.

Thinking he’d managed to reassure them, Eldmir spoke up.

“You’ll need our help to get through this forest.”

“And why should we trust you?”

The catfolk girl who seemed the oldest stepped forward and spoke. She looked to be in her mid-teens, a bit older than the others.

“This is the elves’ forest, and you are merely travelers passing through. As long as the forest permits, you are guests here, and we are obligated to welcome guests. That’s why we’ve come, and we mean you no harm.”

Esiria’s voice was calm, but there was a warmth in her tone that only she could bring.

Her mysterious, gentle words left the catfolk girl looking a bit puzzled, her suspicion gradually fading.

Watching her expression soften, Eldmir asked a question that had suddenly crossed his mind.

“You’re running from goblins, aren’t you? So how likely do you think it is that those goblins might have followed you into this forest?”

From his previous life’s experience, Eldmir knew there was a decent chance the goblins could follow them into the elven forest.

If goblins dared to spill blood here, it’d mean they are inviting devastating revenge from the elves, that will end up them wishing for death.

But, then again, most golbins were thick-headed fools.

He’d learned this firsthand when he’d played as a goblin. Unless he was absolutely ready for an all-out battle or was simply scouting, he’d never wander into an elven forest.

Even then, he’d usually sneak in alone, making sure he wouldn’t get caught.

If he did, well, death was pretty much guaranteed.

He recalled the memories s when hot-blooded young goblins had almost entered into elven territory, and as a player, he’d had to take them down.

Which meant the goblins now might have some among them who couldn’t control their wild impulses, just as back then.

In other words, most goblins—unless they were tribal elders—were total idiots.