I’ve Reincarnated into an Elf - Ch 09

Chapter 09

“We’ll need to take care of him.”
It was Esiria’s voice.

“Take care of him? Right now?”

“Yes. Honestly, I’d like to send him off properly along with those kids, but we don’t have that kind of time.”

She wasn’t wrong. The World Tree’s forest was vast—so vast that even calling it expansive was unjust.

There was still a long way to go to reach the northern region where the beastfolk village was supposedly located.

If it were just Esiria and Eldmir, it might’ve been manageable, but with the mourning beastfolk girls , the journey would take at least two weeks.

Sure, it was an elven forest, so major dangers weren’t expected, but this was still the outer region.

They had the possibility of encountering wandering monsters or other village protectors who might sense the beastfolk, just like the recent encounter with Istein.

And there was always the chance of running into the goblin hunters they’d worried about earlier.

Burying Teia’s body now was the most practical choice; there simply wasn’t enough time for anything else.

After some thought, Eldmir turned to Keris, one of the still-sobbing beastfolk girls.

“Uh, hey. Is it alright if I call you Keris?”

“…What do you want?”

Her voice still shaked from crying, but it was also filled with a clear bitterness.

Even though her anger wasn’t directed at him but at the three protectors, Eldmir still felt a grief of guilt.

“How do beastfolk usually take care of their dead? Burial?”

“…When one of Kelga’s children dies, their soul sheds its mortal shell and returns to his embrace. The body is usually burned to honor the soul.”

That made sense.

Eldmir gave a small nod and turned to Athir.

“Burn it.”

—“Understood.”

Burning the body and keeping the ashes in an vessel to return later seemed more appropriate than burying it here in an elven forest—for both the elves’ sake and theirs.

Once the body was reduced to ash, Esiria used her magic to craft a small clay vessel and carefully placed the remains inside.

She sealed the lid and handed it to Keris, who accepted it with tear-reddened eyes.

“…Thank you.”

It was far too soon for her to process the loss of someone close.

Eldmir wanted to give the girls more time to grieve, but they didn’t have time.

“…”

But Eldmir couldn’t bring himself to tell them to hurry up and get moving.

As much as he was a rebellious elf, he still had enough sensitivity to know that would be crossing a line.

Still, the crying kids were starting to get on his nerves. He didn’t hate children, but he didn’t particularly like them either.

To him, their tears were just a sorrow, nothing more, nothing less.

Standing there listening to them sob, he felt like he should say something comforting, but his personality rejected the idea.

So he was stuck, unable to do anything.

“Mother… shouldn’t we do something to calm them down?”

In the end, he turned to Esiria for help.

He felt a little bad for relying on her so much when it came to things like this, but he convinced himself it was important to know what he could handle and what he couldn’t.

Esiria nodded and approached the beastfolk girls.

The weeping girls gathered around Keris, who held the vessel with Teia’s ashes, too lost in their grief to even think about being wary of Esiria.

They didn’t resist as she gently pulled them into a hug.

“Teia upheld her beliefs and fulfilled her duty as a warrior. She’s surely happy now, having found peace at Kelga’s side. So, don’t cry. If you smile instead of weeping, her soul can rest easy, knowing you’re okay.”

Those words seemed to have some effect.

The beastfolk girls began to stob sobbing, sniffling as they tried to pull themselves together.

Moved by their effort, Esiria gently patted each of their heads with a warm, motherly smile.

“It is to El Rdarel, the protector of this forest and the mother of all elves, that I offer this prayer: may your future be blessed with glory and happiness for enduring and persevering this far.”

Wait, what?

Eldmir’s eyes widened in surprise.

That wasn’t just some comforting prayer—it was practically an oath.

By saying those words, Esiria was promising her own dedication to the happiness and well-being of these girls.

“Normally, that would mean dedicating herself entirely to their future… but I guess, in this case, it just means she’s committed to looking after them until they return home safely,”

Eldmir reasoned, shrugging off his initial shock.

With that settled, he walked over to the group.

“Alright, kids, if you’ve calmed down, let’s get moving. We don’t know when something like this might happen again.”

“…Don’t call us kids,” Keris snapped, her tone still a bit shaky from crying.

Eldmir shrugged, unfazed. “So, the village you’re headed to—is it up north?”

“…No.”

“Huh?”

Eldmir frowned, narrowing his brow.

If they were heading north but their destination wasn’t there, where exactly were they going?

“Uh… did you lose your way? Or were you just running and happened to end up heading north?”

He thought it was a reasonable guess, but Keris just dropped her ears and hung her head low, looking even more dejected than before.

It was clear that something beyond Th
eia’s death was weighing on her. Eldmir tilted his head, puzzled by her reaction.

“Sis.”

One of the smaller beastfolk girls called out to Keris. Judging by her reaction, she was probably the second oldest, around twelve or thirteen most probably.

“I think we should tell them. Teia trusted them, and… these people made an oath. I think we can trust them too.”

She probably thought she was whispering, but to Eldmir’s sharp elven ears, every word was crystal clear.

Feeling awkward about unintentionally hearing the talks, he pretended not to hear and looked away.

“It’s not about trusting them… I’m just worried about whether it’s okay to share this with outsiders.”

“But we can’t do this without their help anyway.”

“…Yeah, you’re right.”

Whatever Keris had planned to say, her sister’s words rendered it meaningless.

She sighed, nodded, and seemed to steel herself before approaching Eldmir.

“I don’t know if I can trust you, but… I’ll try. We don’t have any other choice anyway.”

Eldmir simply nodded in silence.

Keris glanced between Esiria and Eldmir before finally speaking.

“My name is Keris de Kella.”

Kella.

Eldmir’s eyes widened. He’d heard that name before.

“And, of course, all my sisters bear the Kella name as well.”

Ha. Eldmir almost lost his senses.

He barely managed to suppress a bitter laugh and instead remained silent, letting her continue.

“You probably know that some beastfolk have purer bloodlines from ancient times, right? Those bloodlines are called ‘War Beasts.’”

She wasn’t wrong.

In ancient times, when all races lived together in harmony during the so-called First Age, certain individuals carried the divine bloodlines of their respective gods.

Among beastfolk, they were known as War Beasts. For elves, they were the High Elves.

In the world of games, they were often referred to as “noble bloodlines.”

“For beastfolk, the War Beast bloodline has thinned out over generations. Only one family still carries it. To prevent that last bloodline from dying out, the royal family and the high clans of Kelban came up with a solution: arranged marriages between War Beasts. Basically, they started marrying them off to produce more War Beasts.”

It was a beastly way of thinking, but… it worked.

Even though Eldmir wasn’t an expert, he knew enough to understand that inbreeding usually carried negative side effects.

However, when it came to divine bloodlines, the rules seemed to change—or so the game’s lore suggested.

Through this process, the Kella family succeeded in mass-producing War Beasts.

They became the new royalty of the beastfolk and went as far as sharing their bloodline with high-ranking families, enabling them to produce noble bloodlines as well.

It was brutal but undeniably effective.

Because of this, the Kella family was renowned in the game—not just for their breeding practices but because they became the strongest family among the beastfolk, rising to royalty.

Depending on the route taken, they even played a pivotal role in the mid-to-late game storyline, wielding overwhelming power.

And now…

“We’re the result of that,” Keris said.

“The Kella family. A family composed entirely of War Beasts. We’re part of that lineage.”

Kella.

A rare name, derived from their god, Kelga.

Anything bearing the name “Kel” among the beastfolk was considered sacred.

“…Didn’t expect to meet the descendants of Kel so soon,” Eldmir muttered under his breath, furrowing his brow.

In the game, the Kella family usually rose to high ranks during the mid-to-late stages, after the First Racial War.

For them to appear like this—disheveled and involved in the early storyline—could only mean one thing.

It had to be one of Omega World’s infamous randomized storylines: a scenario where the Kella family was in crisis.

In other words, the Beastfolk Extinction hour had been triggered.

“Why the long face?”

It was Atir’s voice.

With a scowl, Eldmir glanced at the flaming raccoon spirit hovering beside him.

As usual, Atir’s form was both stunningly beautiful and yet made Eldmir to punch him.

Damn spirit. Spirits were the hazard of his existence—especially Atir.

What? Rebellious elf? Who do you think made me this way?

If you spirits had just agreed to the damn contract, I wouldn’t have turned out like this!

Sure, my personality probably didn’t help, but still.

“Damn it,” Eldmir cursed under his breath.

“What’s up?” Atir asked, still hovering too close for comfort.

Eldmir considered ignoring him but figured there was no point in stressing over this alone.

“The descendants of Kel… I mean, the Kella family.”

“The kids? What about them?”

“…If they’re so powerful and really are true War Beasts, then why the hell are they running for their lives like this? And from goblins, of all things.”

The Beastfolk Extinction Route was infamous among players. While rare, every veteran had likely encountered it at least once.

Unless you played as a beastfolk character, avoiding this storyline was nearly impossible, thanks to its notorious difficulty.

The reason it was so challenging was simple: the timeline.

The downfall of the Kella family happened during the early game—when players were still stuck in the tutorial phase.

Why is a tutorial a tutorial? Because you’re underpowered, clueless, and still learning.

Yet here was the Kella family, on the verge of destruction. Talk about a nightmare scenario.

If this were a typical racial war, players might celebrate the downfall of a rival faction. But this was Omega World, the game renowned for its brutal, merciless storytelling.

The extinction of the beastfolk was not something any player wanted.

Considering I’m an elf, I tried thinking about how the beastfolk’s actions during the Racial War could negatively impact my people.

Even so, from a long-term perspective, the extinction of the beastfolk would only push me further away from achieving a complete game.

In other words, their ending would completely interrupt my goals.

From that angle, I guess you could say I’m actually in a pretty lucky position.

The Kella family showed up right when they were on the brink of destruction, and I now have the chance to save them.

If I can rebuild them and restore their strength, I can prevent the beastfolk extinction from happening.

Still, there’s one reason this situation is pissing me off so much.

―That’s true, isn’t it? If they really are Kella—War Beasts—they should have some divine power or at least potential.

But… I don’t feel a thing. Honestly, they’re weaker than that Teia girl, the wolf warrior.

Of course. That’s the whole cursed point of this storyline.

When I glanced back, I saw my “mother” in this world walking cheerfully with those cat kids.

I wanted to pick up the pace, but there was no way those furballs could keep up.

So here we were, dragging along at a slow, walking speed on this ridiculously long road.

Man, I just wanted to play this game on easy mode, but nope, it’s hardcore from the start.

―It really doesn’t make sense. If they’re true War Beasts and carry the blood of a god, there’s no way they should be this weak.

Are you sure they’re real?

“They’re real, alright. They just lost their divine power, which basically makes them no different from regular beastfolk.”

―What? Lost their divine power? How is that even…

A divine bloodline essentially means inheriting a god’s power. No power, no divine bloodline—plain and simple.

And yeah, obviously, losing that divine power is an extremely unnatural thing to happen.

It’s not just unlikely; it’s outright impossible.

That’s exactly why this whole mess turned into a disaster for the beastfolk, eventually leading them straight to extinction.

It sounds ridiculously simplistic when you say it out loud, but that’s just how it is.

Divine bloodlines and divine power are crucial in this world. If something like this happened to another race, it’d probably result in a similarly destructive chain of events.

The silver lining here?

This kind of thing only happens to the beastfolk. Lucky for everyone else, I guess.

But the real issue here is…

“Ah, crap. I have no idea how to stop this route.”

I don’t know the walkthrough.

Dammit.