Chapter 193. Resolution (2)
The next morning, though only a single day had passed since Caron's arrival in Aileen, the city had already changed drastically.
"The councilors conspired with the dark elves to sell out the city!"
A shocking rumor swept through the streets.
The councilors were pillars of the city, governing alongside the High Elder. But now, with the revelation that they had been mere puppets of the dark elves, the citizens were consumed by fear.
Then came Baltho's declaration to return to the Southern Great Forest, which sent the city into even greater turmoil.
To the elves of the Eastern Great Forest, the Southern Great Forest was a place of deep-seated resentment and bitter history. But now, they were to return.
The announcement ignited the city, setting off an immediate and furious uproar.
"The ambience isn't all that pleasant," Caron remarked.
"It's inevitable," Baltho replied. "The relationship between us and our kin in the South is far worse than you might imagine."
Caron exhaled slowly as he watched the growing crowd outside the parliament hall. The streets teemed with citizens, all gathered in the central plaza with their voices raised in protest.
Caron had known relations were strained, but he hadn't realized just how deeply fractured they were.
"How did it come to this?" Caron asked, finally voicing the question he had been holding back. He wanted to know the reason why the elves had left the South to settle here.
He had asked the regent, but she'd merely shrugged it off, saying it was an elven matter.
"It's a long story," Baltho said. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"
"Yes," Caron replied.
"...Alright. You have every right to know," Baltho said, then took a sip of tea, wetting his lips before continuing. "Where should I begin?"
For the next thirty minutes, Baltho wove his tale. It wasn't a difficult story to follow, despite its age.
Two hundred years ago, the elves of the Southern Great Forest had fractured into two factions, teetering on the brink of civil war.
"Elves who favored Spirit Magic and those who favored normal magic. It may seem petty to you, but... Their visions for the future were completely different," Baltho said with a weary smile.
Caron knew that conflicting ideals alone weren't enough to drive kin apart. Everyone had different goals, but simply having different aspirations didn't necessarily result in such a thing, so there had to be a certain reason behind it.
And moments later, Baltho revealed the true cause.
"The fault was ours," he said.
Caron raised an eyebrow.
It was unexpected to hear. Admitting wrongdoing was never easy, especially given the tangled history between the Eastern and Southern Great Forest elves.
But Baltho continued without hesitation, "Our elders—our predecessors—discovered new magic through the power of Mother. And with that magic, they sought dominion over the continent. But... That ambition brought disaster upon us."
It was the hidden history of the elves. Stories even the regent had chosen to keep silent now flowed from the lips of the High Elder.
"The greed to create new power using Mother's mana led only to tragedy. Sensing our avarice, the demons crossed the North Sea. Many of our kin fell to corruption at their hands, and worst of all, they inflicted an irreparable wound upon Mother. That was when she first began to weaken," Baltho explained.
The story was a bit different from what the regent had told Caron. According to the regent, the World Tree had begun to wither a little over fifty years ago, after the Demon King of Havoc's invasion.
Caron wondered if the regent had lied to him intentionally.
"If Mother had been at full strength," the High Elder continued, "That wretched Demon King of Havoc would never have been able to harm her."
"...So the World Tree's power had already weakened, leaving her unable to stop the Demon King of Havoc?" Caron asked to confirm.
"That is our original sin," Baltho admitted.
"Then the elves here...?" Caron trailed off.
"They are the descendants of those who were cast out of the Southern Great Forest. In other words, we are the children of sinners," Baltho said.
Elves lived long lives, so for them, two hundred years wasn't a great expanse of time. It was barely three generations at most.
Caron let out a quiet sigh. Now he understood why the elves of the Southern Great Forest despised those who lived here.
"Despite the unforgivable sin we had committed, Mother still gave us her seed," the High Elder said. "She took pity on us, knowing that we wouldn't survive for long once we were exiled from the Southern Great Forest."
"...Because she's a mother," Caron murmured.
In his previous life, perhaps he wouldn't have understood the love of a parent for their child.
Caron thought of Fayle and Sara. Just as they had poured their boundless love onto him, so too had the World Tree done the same. No matter the wrongdoing, their child was still their child.
"Ah, then Mos..." Caron said as he turned to Mos, who was smiling brightly beside him.
"That seed took root," the High Elder said, "and in time, became Mos."
"Ah, I see," Caron said.
"If you visited the Southern Great Forest and still didn't hear this story... I guess the regent must have chosen not to tell you," the High Elder said, his tone shifting.
"Yes, that's right," Caron replied.
A long silence followed before the High Elder muttered, "How could the regent make us feel so ashamed? Like the other elves, it wouldn't be strange for her to hate us..."
Caron thought of the regent. She was an elf whose true thoughts were difficult to discern. Yet, he had no doubt that kindness lay at her core.
This situation confirmed it as well. The moment Caron relayed the dire circumstances here, the regent had immediately agreed to send a rescue fleet. It was almost as if she had been waiting for the request.
Taking in everything he had just learned, Caron exhaled slowly.
Perhaps all the elves had ever needed was an opportunity. A reason to come together once more.
"...I don't know if our fellow kin in the South will accept us," the High Elder said hesitantly.
"They will," Caron stated firmly. He glanced at Mos before adding, "To put it in elven terms... In the end, you're still the same kin. They will accept you."
Mos smiled and nodded, then said, "That's right. They will."
"Mos..." Baltho said.
"Mother has long wished for our return, so don't worry. Right now, the important thing isn't whether our brothers and sisters will accept us, is it? Right, Older Brother?" Mos said.
"As expected, you really are sharp as ever," Caron said with a smile.
"Hehe," Mos responded.
Mos was right. The only thing that mattered now was stopping the dark elves.
They had already cut out the eyes and ears of the dark elves lurking within the city, so the enemy would react soon.
"From this point on, it's a battle of endurance, High Elder," Caron said.
Even at the fastest pace, the rescue fleet sent by the elves wouldn't arrive for another five days. Until then, they had to hold out in Aileen.
That also meant they couldn't afford to move even a single step from this place.
Even so, Baltho's expression visibly brightened. He said, "We were holding on without hope, and now a new one has appeared. The citizens may raise their voices in protest now, but in time, they will come to understand what this truly means—to have our southern kin reach out to us once more."
"A positive mindset. I like that," Caron replied.
Just as he and Baltho were speaking, someone knocked on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
The next moment, the captain of the city guard stepped inside. It was the same man who had dragged Caron to the parliament hall just the day before.
His expression was graver than ever, even more twisted than when Caron had teleported while using Rakaon's body as a shield.
"What is it?" Baltho asked.
"High Elder, you should prepare yourself," the captain said firmly. His face was set with grim determination, like that of a soldier on the eve of battle.
Understanding the situation at a glance, Caron rose slowly from his seat. He turned to Baltho and said, "High Elder, you just mentioned hope, didn't you? Now, normally, my services don't come cheap, but this time, I'll make an exception."
He stretched lazily. Perhaps it was because he had learned the elves' hidden history, but he felt lighter than ever.
"Aileen is in no condition to settle a bill right now, so I'll just send the invoice to some distant family instead," he added with a grin.
"What are you talking about?" Baltho asked.
"Trust me. I happen to be the youngest of the Ducal Family of Leston, a family known for its unmatched reliability in this kind of business," Caron replied, then picked up Guillotine from where it was resting against the round table and slung it over his shoulder.
"Captain, the dark elves have arrived, haven't they?" he asked.
"...They have," the captain admitted. "They say they wish to speak with the High Elder."
"Then let's go. They're all going to be dead men anyway. We might as well have a little chat before we kill them," Caron said.
For the next five days, Caron, his group, and the elves had to hold the line in Aileen.
***
A short while later, Caron stood atop Aileen's city walls, scanning the scene below.
In the distance, the dark elves had set up camp.
"They're swarming in like a pack of dogs," Caron muttered.
Their numbers were overwhelming, a dark tide stretching as far as the eye could see. And it wasn't just dark elves. There were countless demonic monsters following them that filled the battlefield as well.
"There are too damn many of them," Leo said.
"What's wrong, Leo? Are you scared?" Caron teased.
"Who said anything about being scared? I'm just saying they have numbers," Leo replied with a tense expression.
It was no surprise. This was likely Leo's first time facing a battlefield of this scale.
"There's nothing to be nervous about," Caron assured him. "Enemies that move in packs are never strong individually."
"Really?" Leo asked.
"Of course not. I just said that so you wouldn't panic. Look at you, completely rattled," Caron said.
The two cousins exchanged lighthearted banter, easing the tension.
In truth, Caron was nervous too.
This wasn't his first battlefield. As Commander of the Imperial Guards, and even in this life at Reben, he had faced large-scale battles.
But this...
This is brutal, Caron thought.
It was the first time he had come face-to-face with the forces of the Demon King. A sinister wind carried dense dark mana from the enemy's ranks, its weight heavy in the air.
"Owner, this air feels familiar," Guillotine said in Caron's mind. "So much to feast on, don't you think? Brings back memories."
The sword reminisced before continuing, "Back in Rael's era, battles like these never stopped. The moment they saw me, they'd piss themselves and run."
Caron exhaled, feeling the tension in his chest ease. Whether it was because of Guillotine's shameless confidence or something else, he wasn't sure.
In its place, however, excitement welled up.
"Owner, we are their natural predators," Guillotine said.
"I know," Caron murmured. "I was just thinking about the best way to tear them apart."
"Let's feast," Guillotine said.
Caron knew this battlefield would be the final stage of this mission. Everything would be decided here. There was no point in overcomplicating things. They would either endure, or they would be broken; nothing in between.
Adina, who had just completed her Beast Transformation, patted his back with a massive paw and asked, "Caron, why are you suddenly smiling? It's creepy."
"It's strange," Caron admitted. "I feel excited, but also worried."
"A racing heart before battle is proof of a great warrior," Adina said.
"Is that so?" Caron replied. His body felt lighter than ever.
Before him stretched the Demon King's vast army, filling the land before the city. And beyond them, it felt as if he could sense the presence of the Demon King of Sloth.
"Someone's coming," Adina noted, gesturing with her chin.
Dark elves mounted on hellhounds were approaching them.
They rode until they reached the base of the city walls, then one of them called out in a loud voice, "The king of the dark elves has words for Aileen's High Elder! Come down at once and receive his message!"
They sounded like arrogant bastards.
"High Elder," Caron said, glancing down at the dark elves.
Baltho's voice was quiet but firm as he replied, "Speak."
"I'll ask one last time. Are you interested in talking with the dark elves?" Caron asked.
"That was never a consideration," Baltho replied. "From the start, I only ever intended to die honorably here."
"That's all I needed to hear," Caron said. "Alright, I'll be back soon."
"...Where are you going?" Baltho asked.
"Establishing dominance is the most important part," Caron answered. Then, with a slight nod, he leaped from the city walls.
The elves gasped as they watched him plummet toward the ground, but Caron simply flicked his fingers with a calm expression.
Sssssss.
A surge of Pluto's darkness erupted where Caron landed, cushioning his descent with ease.
"I'm here to deliver the High Elder's message in his stead, dark friends," Caron said with a relaxed smile, looking at the dark elves before him.
Their expressions twisted in displeasure.
"So, you are Caron Leston," one of the dark elves said.
"That's right," Caron confirmed.
"The merciful king has offered the elves a path to survival. Uproot the World Tree's sapling and present it to him, and Aileen will remain unharmed. Do not spill meaningless blood clinging to false hope," the dark elf declared in a dry voice.
It was ridiculous, demanding for them to hand over the sapling of the World Tree.
Caron smirked at them and said, "There's no such thing as meaningless bloodshed in this world. If blood is spilled, there's always a reason for it."
"Is that a refusal?" the dark elf asked.
"Now, I will deliver the High Elder's response," Caron said.
Whoosh.
The tip of Guillotine gleamed ominously, radiating a light that seemed to devour everything around it.
Grinning mockingly, Caron looked the dark elves straight in the eyes and said, "Beware of the Mad Dog. That's the High Elder's message."
"...What did you say?" the dark elf asked, confused.
"Tsk tsk. He told you to be careful," Caron repeated.
Slash!
In an instant, Guillotine carved through the bodies of the dark elves who had come as envoys. Blood erupted in fountains, painting the air in crimson.
Caron tilted his head back slightly, watching the falling droplets with a smirk.
"That Mad Dog... is me," he said.
And with that, the rampage began.
That was how the Battle of Aileen, a battle that would be etched into history for generations to come, started.