I’ve always felt that the boundary between humans and other races is far more fragile than it appears.

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We’re more alike than we think. I once pictured elves as detached and almost inhumanly serene, but Ms. Rowena shattered that notion. Whether she’s unique or all elves are like this, it struck me how similar they are to us.

Fear doesn’t discriminate; it affects humans, elves, and all beings alike.

Yet perhaps because she is an elf, Ms. Rowena appeared especially disturbed. She trembled so violently that it seemed she might lose herself entirely.

“From what we know, the Cidatel Republic is already beyond saving. Not even the Three Goddesses could rescue it now.”

The Demon King never appeared himself; he razed a nation with nothing more than a single, deadly bird.

It’s terrifying to think about. Everyone was aware that Grimudo could bring down a nation in an instant, yet no one truly trembled at his name. They believed that as long as he wasn’t provoked, he wouldn’t act.

But that belief has now been shattered.

What happened once can happen again. If he so effortlessly dismantle the Cidatel Republic, what stops him from doing the same to other nations?

“If he is truly mobilizing, then his next target will likely be...”

“The Empire?”

“No... Elvenhome.”

I had assumed the Demon King’s next move would be against the Empire, yet she shook her head and spoke with a trembling voice.

“Grimudo has long set his sights on Elvenhome. He views us elves as something that should have disappeared long ago. He has repeatedly tried to burn Elvenhome to the ground, even though he has nothing to gain from it.”

“It wasn’t a fight–not even close.”

Ms. Rowena shuddered, as though a frigid wind had swept over her.

“Everything we tried–archery, spirit magic was futile. Have you ever experienced the futility of launching arrows into the sea? No matter what we did, it couldn’t slow him, even for a moment. The only reason we survived was the World Tree’s barrier.”

“Grimudo has attacked Elvenhome before?”

“Yes, and that is why I know there is no hope of defeating him.”

Her expression grew dark, as if recalling a nightmare that was as vivid and terrifying as reality. This nightmare, worse than anything imagined, wasn’t a dream–it was reality.

Ms. Rowena paled as memories of the past resurfaced.

“That’s why I’m always anxious. Such a powerful being is always watching us, yet we elves hide and tell ourselves we’re safe.”

The World Tree, a gift from the ancient god, protected Elvenhome. Under its power, elves believed they were untouchable.

But the ancient god who bestowed that protection has long since fallen silent. It fulfilled its role and faded away, leaving only the law it created.

“So, Elvenhome’s safety now rests on an old safeguard, does it not?”

If true, it’s like a dead law–unchanging but not invincible.

Dead laws can have loopholes. Just as I found a way around the sun’s curse to save vampires, it is conceivable that Grimudo might find a way to breach the World Tree’s defenses.

This is Grimudo, an ancient Demon King. No one knows his limits, and thus there is no guarantee that Elvenhome remains truly safe.

“So you think it might not be safe anymore.”

“Do you know what the Cidatel Republic’s apprentice gave Grimudo? It was fruit from the World Tree. He might use it to get past the tree’s protection.”

Rowena sighed, her ears drooping.

“Of course, we can’t just blame that Andolf MacLaren or whatever his name is. It was our own people who harvested those fruits and sold them to humans. They probably didn’t know it’d end up with Grimudo, but even if they did, the High Elves wouldn’t have cared.”

“They’ve lived so long they’ve forgotten fear, trusting the World Tree to handle everything. Can you believe it? To let their guard down against Grimudo—no one else on the continent would act so recklessly.”

Others underestimate Grimudo—Yurinel, Parnell, Lucia, and me. By the time we grasped the true extent of his power, it was already too late.

But even if we knew earlier, would it have made a difference? For knowing does not equate to stopping him. Perhaps ignorance is, in some ways, a blessing.

“Priest, as Elvenhome’s ambassador, I’m begging you. Please come. The World Tree may not shield us when next the time comes.”

“I’m sorry, but I have somewhere else to go first.”

“...I see. I suppose no one would offer help after merely a brief exchange.”

Ms. Rowena glared at me, her expression surprisingly human.

The elders once told me elves were like fairies, but they’d never met one.

“Even you, Priest, fear death, don’t you?”

“...?”

“I understand. Grimudo is terrifying. No one would face him for someone they barely know. It’s natural to refuse. I only hoped that a priest of the ancient Goddesses would be different.”

“I don’t fear death or the Demon King.”

I smiled.

She misunderstood.

“I need to go to the Cidatel Republic.”

To that forsaken place, where cries for help echo in the darkness.

That’s where I belong. The Lord reminded me of that.

He knew that pride had begun to swell within me, nourished by His Majesty’s favor and the Prince’s offer.

I have one chance left to use the Night of the Milky Way.

If it can save countless lives, then it will be worth every sacrifice.

I could accept this with a smile. I was almost sure of it.

“The Cidatel Republic? What can you possibly do there, Priest? Even your divine powers are meaningless against an erupting volcano...”

“Didn’t you claim that if I defeat the Monster King, the eruption would be averted?

Miracles exist precisely to be employed when they are most needed.

Miracles left unused are as good as miracles never granted. The Lord grants me only the miracles I require.

“Lady. Let’s make a deal.”

My Lord gave me the Milky Way’s blood night for a reason. He made it clear what I must do.

“A deal? What kind of deal?”

“Help me get through the gate. In return, I promise to go to Elvenhome once this is resolved.”

I must head to the most dangerous place beyond the gate.

While most would flee from danger, a servant of the Lord cannot.

I could not, and I did not want to.

“For now, I must go to the gate.”

First, I must listen to the stories of those who have crossed over, to grasp the full extent of the situation.

Only then will my path become clear.