Forsaken Priest of the Hero's Party-Chapter 85: The New Alternative

“This is a serious matter. Priest, I’m sorry, but we must resume our unfinished conversation. Tsk, just when I thought I could relax, the position of Emperor truly doesn’t allow even a moment’s rest.”

The Emperor departed. From what I gathered, an incident had occurred in the Cidatel Republic.

How bad was it? Even His Majesty appeared unsure. But, the Republic’s people wanted to flee to the Empire through the gates, clear evidence that something significant had transpired.

Has Roka not returned yet?

I remembered a similar occurrence at Duchess Shmira’s mansion, but I dismissed the thought. It couldn’t be that the same event was unfolding twice.

She was likely still choosing something from the imperial treasury.

“You’re so engrossed in your music that you haven’t even glanced this way.”

A voice called out as I rose to head to my room. A woman with a large wooden instrument hanging from her neck was smiling at me. Her blonde hair hinted at royal lineage, yet no princess would be seen playing such an instrument here.

Pointed ears. Could she be...?

Her ears were distinctly pointed, almost too strange to be entirely human.

Noticing my gaze fixed on her ears, she chuckled and covered her mouth.

“Is this your first time seeing an elf? That might be for the best—after all, not every elf matches my level of productivity.”

The woman, her wheeled, stringed hurdy-gurdy in hand, resembled a minstrel. An elven minstrel, no less, reminding me of the Empire’s remarkable diversity.

With her right hand, she turned the wheel, its rubbing against the strings producing a resonant sound, while her left deftly pressed buttons to form a melody. Minstrels typically played the hurdy-gurdy, while court music included various instruments. So, her skills must be exceptional for her to be here.

“It’s my first encounter with one of the forest folk, so I must admit, I was a bit surprised. I’m Kyle.”

“Rowena. I have no surname. Pleased to meet you, priest of the Ancient God.”

She examined me with her violet eyes before breaking into a radiant smile.

“One of our ancestors served the Ancient God as a priest, much like you. Before he died, he asked the god for the World Tree, but it wasn’t a true blessing. I wonder if your god is the same.”

Thump.

She sat in the very seat the Emperor had left only moments before.

I glanced around, questioning whether such behavior was permitted, but no one intervened.

“I’m also an envoy for the elves of Elvenhome. Being a minstrel is just a side job. Music helps with the pain. Living for so long, it wears on our minds.”

She laughed, but it didn’t seem like something to laugh about.

“The World Tree granted us nearly a thousand years of life, yet we’re at a loss on how to live it. After a century, weariness sets in. Life dulls, and we find ourselves in a relentless pursuit of pleasure.”

“In what way?”

“Every older elf has tried drugs. I’ve used opium. Young elves smoke marijuana, some indulge in hashish, and others participate in wild orgies. And, well... my parents were never married. Elves don’t get married.”

While elves are often seen as paragons of purity, these elves didn’t seem that way.

Rowena smiled slightly again.

“My parents weren’t flawless, yet they were far superior to those who would sell their own children for drug money.”

“Does that really happen?”

“Think about it. Even humans can choose to do evil. Why can’t elves do the same? Once the line is crossed, the distinctions vanish.”

Rowena downed a drink and laughed as if the alcohol were nothing more than a soft beverage. She promptly refilled her glass and took another long sip.

It seemed she had more than just alcohol in her past.

“Even so, you’d get a lot of criticism for selling your people. Usually, the half-elves are born from relationships between elves and humans, who get sold. The High Elves dismiss them, claiming half-elves aren’t truly elves. They don’t care about the world around them.”

“Can’t you see? I represent Elvenhome despite lacking conventional qualifications. I only have music skills and speak the imperial language.”

She asked me, but she didn’t seem important in Elven’s society.

“The real High Elves... they don’t care about life. They harbor a secret that leads them to relinquish everything. Tell me, what do you know of this ‘cycle’ you mentioned?”

How did she know I was looking for the meaning of the cycle?

Noticing my astonishment, she let out a gentle laugh.

“As I said, I’m Elvenhome’s representative. No one else would take the job, but I can still meet with His Majesty.”

“His Majesty inquired about the cycle. Though I wasn’t sure myself, I’ve overheard the High Elves whisper that very word in secrecy.”

Should I head to Elvenhome rather than the North Pole?

This was valuable information. A trip to Elvenhome promised far greater safety than the notorious Northern Fortress. I thanked her, and Rowena casually waved her hand.

“But the High Elves are so closed off. I’m not sure they’ll talk to you, priest. Suppose they don’t, threaten them. Tell them the one behind you could strip away Ancient God’s blessing from the World Tree. That might get them to listen.”

She laughed, but her words were profound.

If Elvenhome truly was an option, it would certainly be safer than the North Pole. I’d speak with Roka upon her return, and, unlike at the Northern Fortress, I wouldn’t have to leave her behind.

It seemed unlikely, but maybe Roka could make an elf friend.

In that case, I’ll need to talk to the Princess again.

It would have been better to have known sooner, but things were already getting complicated. The Princess was part of the North Pole delegation because of my actions, so if I altered my plans, she’d have to adjust hers as well.

I needed to consult with both His Majesty and the Princess about our next steps.

“By the way, why is it so noisy outside? There was a minor earthquake, yet people appear excessively agitated.”

Rowena had inquired using her connections and soon returned, her face noticeably pale.

“This is bad. That Grimudo... The Ancient Demon King has attacked the Cidatel Republic! The Republic is on the brink of collapse!”

I couldn’t help but show a hint of shock on my face.

“Did he take action himself?”

“No. Instead, something akin to Grimudo’s crown set things in motion. That Monster Lord, Phoenix, it seems, is behind the eruption of the Calderan Mountains. Who else but Grimudo could be responsible?”

“Then perhaps this isn’t the worst-case scenario after all.”

If it’s not Grimudo but a chaotic monster, it could be like the manticore’s attack on Pumpkin Vine Village.

Grimudo is notorious for allowing his monsters to wreak havoc without remorse. Maybe it wasn’t Grimudo causing the crisis, but Phoenix was acting independently.

Either way, there was no time to waste.

“Please, explain in detail. What exactly happened?”

*****“So, you must be Roka. His Majesty has mentioned you.”

“Sir, I must take my leave now.”

The chamberlain escorting Roka bowed respectfully to the elderly treasurer. Not because he knew Geher the Hermit was a top Master, but because everyone in the palace revered him. This old man had no desire for power, just guarding the treasury, so it was best not to upset him.

“I’ve confirmed your qualifications. Now, enter and select one item. Don’t try to take more than one; I don’t want to scold you at my age.”

After scrutinizing the documents, the old guardian of the treasury grew irritable. Roka merely nodded, acutely aware of his formidable presence.

He was much stronger than the female knight behind the Third Prince and even more potent than Princess Ardein, the strongest individual Roka had ever encountered.

There was no need to cause trouble by taking more than one item.

Upon entering, Roka addressed the old man.

“Which item is the best?”

She assumed it best to consult the expert. Having served here for so long, the old man surely possessed more wisdom than she did.

“Listen, kid, you won’t find one item superior to the others. Each serves its own distinct purpose.”

Instead of answering directly, the old man launched into a lecture. Roka rolled her eyes subtly, though he remained oblivious as he began recounting an old tale.

“Long ago, the Masterless Swordsman said, ‘Everything comes from the universe. Nothing escapes the principle of mutual generation and restriction.’ In other words, every thing, no matter how formidable, has its weakness. Do you see now how misguided your question was?”

The old man smiled at Roka like looking at a cute granddaughter.

Only then did he offer a piece of practical advice, one he had already conferred with the Emperor.

“But if I must recommend something, it would be the sword left behind by that very speaker. No one has been able to draw it yet, but who knows? Maybe you’ll understand something just by holding it.”

“The Masterless Swordsman...?”

“There was once a swordsman who trained with the world as his teacher because no one taught him how to use magic. It’s such an old story that I’m not sure of its complete truth, but—”

Still, there must be some truth to it.”

The old man confessed that he, too, had sensed the sword’s spirit when he held it. Geher had once been a formidable master, even referring to himself as a Grand Master for a time.

This powerful figure didn’t ascend by mere swordsmanship but by possessing the sword left by the Masterless Swordsman. Upon feeling its power, Geher realized that the one who could wield it was mightier than himself.

After that, Geher and Rayman stopped calling themselves Grand Masters.

Reflecting on that event now fills them with nothing but shame, they understood that someone always stands above. Hence, humility is paramount.

“That legend can’t be completely false, can it?”

Roka nodded, understanding that he was talking about the sword.

She thanked the old man and stepped inside. Although she didn’t harbor excessive hopes, even a brief encounter with the sword might prove invaluable.

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After all, treasures that arrive too swiftly aren’t often valuable.