Chapter 31

The Achilliptus Forest. A vast wood where colossal, age-old trees, tenacious vines, and suspiciously shaped mushrooms sprouted from every side.

Within this great forested zone, countless secrets slumbered.

Deep, dark dungeon chambers, the skeletal remains of a famous adventurer lost within this massive wood. Perhaps even a great runestone, capable of communing with spirits.

Due to its rugged terrain, thick with steep cliffs and dense undergrowth, the continental peoples – elves, dwarves, orcs included – had yet to unearth all the hidden mysteries of this forest.

……Except for me, who sunk in four thousand hours, savoring every element without exception.

The Achilliptus Forest was commonly known as the “Treasure Trove” among players.

For mages, it held the “Blessing of the Spirits,” for barbarian warriors, artifacts like the “Horn-Pipes of the Ascended,” and for rangers or rogues, it offered Philia Fiber, the material for the “Elf Cloak,” the best performing armor in the game.

Of course, each item was concealed in its own unique location. To acquire an artifact or rare fiber, one had to clear challenging dungeons or scale hundreds of meters of cliffs through treacherous terrain.

Obtaining the Blessing of the Spirits, on the other hand, wasn’t so difficult. It wasn’t hidden within a monster-infested dungeon, but rather, nestled beneath the roots of the oldest and largest tree in the forest.

I arrived at the forest and took command of the squad from Commander Belua. Upon assuming command, she immediately ordered the infantry to unload the numerous construction tools from the baggage carts and begin clearing the area.

“The ground isn’t as firm as I expected! We need to lay a road suitable for carts, so begin the land works slowly!”

“You, the barracks crew! The terrain is too uneven, so first flatten the ground with shovels and pickaxes before you start building!”

“…This place is far more overgrown than I anticipated. It would be better to build the barracks in a wider, flatter area! Still, it’d be a waste not to use this land, so we’ll build a small storehouse here!”

Since arriving in the forest, I hadn’t done anything besides exchanging trivial chitchat with Lir, but Belua, with her hand gestures and booming voice, had already begun flattening the uneven ground and laying the foundations for the buildings.

The dwarves, with their innate skill, began assembling the blocks for the road, the foundation of the outpost and a direct link between the capital and the battlefield known as ‘Valorland’, where fierce battles were unfolding.

Human and orc infantry diligently carried building materials like bricks and wood for them, while archers, with sharp eyes, watched the surroundings, prepared for any potential threat.

“…It doesn’t seem like there’s anything I can do to help.”

I said, cautiously gauging Belua’s reaction.

Belua, diligently overseeing the construction of the outpost, fell silent for a moment upon seeing my thin wrist exposed from within the dark robes, then chuckled and replied,

“That’s hardly something a leader like you should be doing! Leave it to us!”

Hmm.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled, but what could I do?

I was the one who only invested 1 point in strength.

“In that case, would it be alright if I explored the inner parts of the forest for a bit? There’s something that concerns me.”

“…Hmm, is it absolutely necessary?”

Belua paused from his bustling work and asked with a voice thick with worry.

“We’ve disarmed all the traps in this immediate area, but… we’ve only cleared the land for the outpost and its surroundings. We haven’t scouted the entire forest.”

The Akiliptus Forest was a colossal region, spanning a staggering fifty square kilometers.

Clearing the entire forest and disarming all the traps in such a short time, less than half a day, was simply impossible.

From the start, the Akiliptus Forest, due to its particularly rugged terrain, held more uncharted territory than explored land.

In such unknown lands, demonic traps might very well exist.

It was only natural that Belua looked at me with such concern.

“…Somewhere in this forest, I sense a mysterious magical energy that cannot be simply ignored. I just want to quickly confirm what it is, so you don’t have to worry too much.”

I turned my head to the side, fixed my gaze on the dense forest, and spoke as if some unknown force was pulling me in, as if I was a person sensing destiny.

…….

Mysterious magical energy my foot. The only thing I actually felt was the unpleasant, stale air. But if I didn’t put on this act, I didn’t think I’d get permission.

…Why do I, as a superior officer, need permission?

If you have any sense, please don’t ask such questions. It was clear to anyone who was in charge here. It was Belua, not me.

“Hmm… so a magician of unparalleled genius senses it. There must be something special hidden away then! This woodland has always been notorious for producing peculiar artifacts, so it’s no real surprise.”

Though it’s embarrassing to say with my own lips, I am a genius magician destined to save all of humankind (or so it’s believed).

And who in this world would dare tell such a magician, one who senses something extraordinary that absolutely cannot be missed, to stay put?

“Still, it feels far too precarious to send the General alone. Could you wait here for a moment while I find you a suitable guide?”

A perfectly reasonable measure from Bellua’s perspective. No sane commander would ever leave a magician to wander the battlefield unattended.

A skilled warrior could withstand a sudden threat, and a skilled archer could prevent threats altogether, but a skilled magician was often caught unawares and met a meaningless end.

There was a reason magic users were called “glass cannons” in gaming communities, and why investing stat points into vitality had become the standard build.

“Sergeant Trian!”

“…What is it?”

A sharp voice, hardly befitting a soldier addressing a superior, rang out from the trees not far away.

“Escort duty! The General has somewhere to go, and you will clear the path for him safely!”

Bellua delivered the command with a matter-of-fact tone, as if his subordinate’s attitude was nothing out of the ordinary, and then returned to directing the infantry.

*Cruch*.

With the soft sound of leaves being crushed underfoot, a male elf with long hair swept back slowly approached.

Tall and lanky, with a massive longbow and quiver slung across his back, the elf’s body was covered in small scars.

His eyes were pitch-black and deep, and his long, flowing hair, though surely unwashed after days of marching, shone with a healthy luster – the quintessential image of an ‘elf archer’.

“Where are you headed?”

The elf asked bluntly, without so much as introducing himself. He had, of course, omitted the customary salute, and even seemed somewhat put out by my presence, his superior.

“…”

Elves had a reputation for being rude, but I hadn’t imagined it was this extreme.

“Is this how it is with the other superiors, too?”

I mean, I’m a general, for crying out loud. If I just stand here and watch a sergeant treat me like this, the whole army’s discipline might crumble.

This isn’t just about asserting myself! It’s about the discipline of the army I belong to, and the future of humanity itself.

“How old do you think I am? I’m 1211 years old this year. Isn’t it a bit much to expect me to salute humans who aren’t even fifty yet?”

“Huh.”

The elf, Trian’s, attitude was so brazen that for a moment, I wondered if I had made some kind of mistake.

The conclusion came quickly.

…This b*stard is even crazier than I imagined.

“Polite language should be sufficient, shouldn’t it? Though, if it displeases you, I could be replaced with another archer.”

I could understand why, even though elf archers showed unparalleled skill, some commanders still avoided them.

Their personalities just didn’t quite mesh with a group like the military.

An arrogance bordering on hubris…a unique gaze that seemed to belittle the other party, a disrespectful way of speaking, or the way they looked down on all races except elves.

Wow, listing them out like this, it’s more than just one or two.

“I don’t particularly mind, but it might be better to treat other commanders with a bit more respect… There are definitely those who value discipline.”

“How many nations do you think I have watched fall, only to rise again? And how many armies do you think I have seen disappear and be rebuilt in that time? It would be troubling if you think I’m just like any other soldier.”

…Isn’t it embarrassing to go around declaring, ‘I’m special,’ yourself?

And just what makes this elf so darn confident?

If he’d just asked for understanding from the beginning, saying something like, ‘I’m a rather old elf, so I’m a bit rude, but I hope you can understand,’ I would’ve replied, ‘Well, if you’re an elf, then I suppose it can’t be helped. I accept it,’ and tried to understand him.

“……”

Of course, living for over 1200 years was definitely something remarkable. In that long span of time, he would have learned, witnessed, and experienced countless things that ordinary humans, dwarves, or orcs could never even dream of.

So, it wasn’t entirely incomprehensible that they looked down on other races.

If I were 1200 years old, wouldn’t it be beyond absurd, a veritable joke, if some whippersnapper barely forty, maybe fifty, tried to force me to use honorifics?

“Ah, I hate getting old…”

Even so, I couldn’t stand to hear it.

It’s not like the ‘respect’ organ naturally atrophies with age. Would it hurt him to speak politely?

“…What did you mean by that?”

“Just saying I hate getting old. Isn’t losing one’s sharpness a fearful thing for anyone?”

I widened my bright blue eyes and feigned innocence. Sergeant Trian subtly gritted his teeth, watching me openly mock him, and I internally burst into derisive laughter.

Regardless of age, this was the military, and he was a soldier.

Even if you’re old, is it right for a guy who is merely a sergeant to hold his head so high in front of a general?

I repeat, this was coddling for the good of the entire organization. Not coddling for my own sake.

“You must think I’m a fool?”

“Me? I didn’t intend to, but if that’s how you feel, I’m sorry.”

The elf before me, incredibly, was a sergeant brazenly talking back to a general. A madman.

And I, for one, didn’t have the confidence to engage in conversation with a madman who lacked all common sense.

So, rather than arguing point by point, laying out logical rebuttals, I decided to simply deflect his words with a slippery smile, like a wily snake.

“…You’re making it difficult to use honorifics.”

That strategy worked perfectly to irritate him.

“If it’s difficult, then don’t use them. When did I ever force you to? Feel free to speak comfortably; I’m uncomfortable receiving honorifics from a 1200-year-old geezer anyway.”

“…Insolent b*stard.”

“Huh? You scratched me?”

You’re over twelve-hundred years old and genuinely getting angry at someone who’s not even twenty? You must have eaten your age through your backside?

“Oh my, for a young one to act like this in front of an elder. My sincerest apologies.”

“Sir Bin! You felt…some kind of special mana, you said?!”

While I was wasting time on a completely useless power struggle, the young, polite elf, fully equipped with basic manners, approached.

…I never realized it before, but thanks to Trian, I’ve come to appreciate just how precious Rire is.

So what if she’s a little lacking in social skills? She’s so polite, and doesn’t look down on people just because they’re young.

“My master told me to follow you! He said I might learn something incredible!”

I sighed, glancing back and forth between Rire, whose large eyes sparkled with anticipation, and the male elf who glared at me with sharp eyes.

…The thought that Rire might someday grow up and become an elf like *that* made my head spin.

“…Rire, don’t ever grow up to be like that.”

“Huh?”

Those large eyes clearly had no idea what I was talking about.