Mist Labyrinth.
It is a name affixed to the Elves’ forest, declaring that none who are unpermitted can reach it.
Originally, the nickname Mist Labyrinth referred solely to the fog-covered area at the edge of the forest surrounding the Land of Elves, Albresia. However, as time passed, it has come to be used to refer to the entire realm of Elves itself.
In any case, true to its name, Albresia is a nation where the entire outskirts of the forest are shrouded in thick fog 365 days a year. And it is precisely that fog that has thwarted the ambitions of humans multiple times, becoming an impregnable fortress.
Maps and magical aids hold no weight here. No race other than the Elves can reach the village of Elves located in the heart of the forest, no matter what means they employ.
Various races that have targeted Elves since the tribal wars have tried numerous ways to venture beyond the fog, but all have ultimately failed.
Some have found themselves circling the same spot, while others have lost their way in the mist, never to return, or have been discovered cold corpses with Elven arrows lodged in them somewhere in the woods.
Ultimately, humans even attempted arson, but to no avail. After setting the forest ablaze and turning to look back, it seemed as if the fire had never occurred, restoring to its original state.
Past humans could at least understand that the fog was not a naturally occurring phenomenon. Once they realized that under normal means it was impossible to reduce the forest’s area or clear the fog, the invaders had no choice but to concede defeat and withdraw.
However, once they had retreated, humans were unlikely to just abandon a precious natural treasure.
Mist Labyrinth remains a subject that countless scholars have been racking their brains over to this day.
The only thing that has been firmly established so far is that the fog is a powerful illusion magic, a kind of barrier. Recently, there have been hopeful speculations that they might find a way to penetrate that barrier, bolstered by the significant advancements in human magic after the war.
But as for what lies ahead, there hasn’t been any officially revealed method to break it yet. Thanks to that, this impregnable natural fortress continues to thrive, which, coincidentally, is a point where I could potentially stick my spoon in.
Now, let’s assume that the house right next to the one I live in is a mysterious magic house.
I cannot enter that magic house. Whether it is safeguarded by some mysterious force or not, I cannot even go to complain if they sing and dance all night or throw stones at my window.
But then one day, robbers moved in next door. And at night, they boldly break into my house by smashing my window, causing chaos and stealing my belongings, and when they hear the police sirens, they immediately flee back to their house.
If that kind of routine continues, what would happen? Well, no need to say much. It would be chaos.
By now, some astute folks might have caught on to what I’m getting at.
The magic house in the analogy is the Mist Labyrinth, and my house next to it is the lawless city of Pahera.
Originally, up until the end of the tribal wars, the Mist Labyrinth was a barrier that rejected all races other than the Elves. However, at some point, the malice of the Elves began to be directed solely at humans.
The incident began with what could be described as a trivial occurrence.
A group of beastmen, pursued by humans, escaped through Pahera to the Mist Labyrinth. This was a last desperate move with nowhere else to run.
The humans chasing the beastmen gave up and withdrew, rationalizing that now that they had voluntarily entered the Mist Labyrinth, they wouldn’t make it back out alive.
This had happened a few times before, all ending at this juncture. Thus, it seemed this incident would wrap up in one of those routine happenings.
However, one night, just as the incident was fading from memory, a report came in that beastmen had been spotted at the forest’s edge.
Upon hearing this, the humans realized that something was amiss. It had been a while since any beastmen were reported to be seen near Pahera since the last incident.
Then, just a few days later, beastmen appeared inside the Mist Labyrinth, a place where only Elves should have been able to set foot.
At first, it might seem like a trivial clue to dismiss.
But this time, it was not.
Humans felt an inexplicable unease. And ominous premonitions have a way of being correct.
After hurriedly checking, they confirmed that the characteristics of the spotted beastmen matched exactly those of the beastmen that had been lost at the forest’s edge not long ago, prompting humans to organize a pursuit party once more.
The beastmen fled back into the Mist Labyrinth.
This time, the humans intended to chase until the end, but within the magical barrier that distorted space, where everything shifted and resembled an illusion, they lost sight of the very people they were following in the blink of an eye.
Afterward, beastmen were sighted several times at the forest’s edge, and each time, humans would pursue only to miss them repeatedly. With the same events occurring three or four times, those oblivious to the situation were beginning to notice something odd.
Why is it that only beastmen are able to return from the Mist Labyrinth unscathed?
Why is it that only humans always lose their way, often becoming corpses with arrows lodged in them?
Once could be an accident, but there’s no way dozens of accidents would happen.
The Mist Labyrinth is a barrier that refuses the presence of unpermitted beings to the Elves’ realm.
To carelessly set foot inside is to risk getting lost and meeting a tragic end at the hands of Elven arrows. Surely, it must be such a place.
Yet, why is it that only the beastmen continually survive while the humans return riddled with arrows? This could only mean that the Elves must have directly interfered with the barrier.
Of course, no one would think that the Elves had allowed the beastmen into the heart of their village. Those prickly-eared folk would never admit beastmen into their village, right? That much could certainly be assured.
However, it was clear that at the very least, they had permitted the beastmen access to a corner of the Mist Labyrinth, and their intentions were evident.
—We’ll keep our hands off but let you guys do the killing from now on.
In short, it meant offering a sanctuary to the Ain’s near the forest edge adjacent to the human city, giving them free reign to wreak havoc.
A truly malicious scheme from the thousand-year-old elders. Understanding the shabby intentions of the Elves, the humans sought to conceal this information as much as possible.
However, it didn’t take long for Ain’s, who were desperately searching for a way to survive, and those waiting for an opportunity to rebel to catch on to the Elves’ contradictory and pathetically obvious signal.
It was not long before news spread that a sanctuary had emerged that could fend off human pursuers, drawing the Ain’s who had been lurking in the shadows of human territory toward Pahera in droves.
The beastmen swiftly organized a resistance and began to disrupt the order in Pahera.
Adding to that, there were even itinerant vampires who took advantage of the chaos to fatten their own wallets.
Even as the lord of Pahera narrowed his eyes and gathered troops, all he could do was defend. With no way to enter the Mist Labyrinth, he could only helplessly watch as his nose got bitten off.
The lord of Pahera, unable to resolve the root cause, could only research how to get hurt a bit less.
And just like that, mere two months later.
In just those two months, Pahera had fallen into a lawless city plagued by Ain’s terror.
A place where it wouldn’t be surprising if anyone died at any time, for any reason.
A place where no one questions strife and death.
That is the state of the city of Pahera today.
“What better conditions could there be?”
It could be likened to an event zone optimized for experience farming.
While relatively far from the influence of the Luminous Church, as long as one doesn’t reveal themselves to be an Ain, it wouldn’t be strange to be actively draining blood here.
Whether a human dies at the hand of a beastman or is captured by a vampire, it could all be brushed off with a simple remark about bad luck.
Truly, it couldn’t be a more perfect location for me.
“Indeed.”
Eleonora nodded vigorously and seemed to convey that she fully understood. For a moment, I questioned whether she truly grasped it, given her speed of response bordering on light, but I decided it wasn’t an important matter.
Looking out the window, the carriage was moving at a steady pace. Despite the dubious conversations happening inside, the scenery was nothing short of peaceful.
Indeed, expensive things have their own perks, it seems. The soundproofing must be good enough to prevent even hushed conversations from leaking out.
Or perhaps that isn’t relevant at all.
Upon reflection, it seems an ordinary human wouldn’t have extraordinary hearing enough to eavesdrop on the conversations inside amidst the noise of the carriage and the wind anyway.
The fact that this obvious thought didn’t come to mind first shows how my sensitivity to human emotions might have dropped significantly in a short period. Thinking that I’ve moved further away from being human isn’t a bad feeling, to be honest.
Now then, it should be around that time now. A few more hours and I would arrive at the village next to Pahera, but there’s no need to do so this time.
Shall I take a shadow to roughly assess Eleonora’s level? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.
“I’ll walk from here. Eleonora, kill the coachman and bring the carriage to a stop. Do it as cleanly as possible.”
I delivered the order as nonchalantly as I could muster.
Now, let’s see how Eleonora reacts.
It’s better to process the coachman on the way rather than leaving traces in a village I have no intention of entering. And above all, this is a perfect opportunity to test Eleonora.
I’ve yet to actually see her fight properly.
I’ve heard she learned to use a dagger from her father, but from now on, she’ll likely find herself in numerous fights and should be assessed on her actual skill soon enough.
Moreover, the way she responds to a sudden command is also crucial.
She stated a desire for vengeance against humans, but is she truly ready to kill herself? And how much will she obey my words?
“Yes.”
With a sudden response—
As a result, there was no need to even evaluate the latter.
Despite the command being a rather abrupt and contextless one, the moment my words left my mouth, Eleonora’s expression, which had been bland to begin with, instantly hardened, and without hesitation, she drew a dagger from her bosom and swung the door of the moving carriage open with determination.
Then, as if feeling no air resistance, she leaped and landed onto the roof of the carriage, before jumping down onto the driver’s seat.
“Excuse me? What—”
In the blink of an eye, Eleonora seized the back of the coachman and covered his mouth with her left hand, slicing his neck with her dagger.
The coachman turned around, unable to even scream before his blood gushed out, and he fell lifeless.
Eleonora pulled the body, which was about to be flung from the speeding carriage, back onto the driver’s seat.
Once again, the shining dagger. The reins clutched in the dead coachman’s hand were severed, causing the now-silent carriage to begin to slow down gradually due to inertia.
Before long, Eleonora, having tucked the dagger away, sat atop the coachman’s corpse.
Pushing off the footrest with great force, she held onto the railing with one hand while using the other to stem the flow of blood from the coachman’s neck, bracing herself until the carriage came to a complete stop.
Creak!!! Clunk!!
No matter how spirited it was, a carriage without horses cannot run forever.
As the wheels of the carriage, unable to defy the physical limits, let out a loud wail before finally coming to a halt, I kicked the rattling door aside and stepped out.
As I stretched my stiff neck from the wild ride of the runaway carriage, Eleonora jumped down from the driver’s seat and approached me, like a dog fetching a disc.
“Master, are you going to eat this?”
As I glanced over, Eleonora had her right hand pressed to the coachman’s wound, gazing up at me with a clever, dog-like expression while waiting for her master’s command.
Her expression was flat, but a hint of expectation could be seen in her eyes, and above all, her tail was wagging with the energy of a freshly caught fish. It sounded a bit weird to repeat it for the third time, but she was just like a dog…
Still, good stuff. It seemed she would rather ditch the conversation but was keen on holding onto the corpse. Now that makes sense.
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