Wortenia Senki (LN) - Volume 7 - Chapter Pr

Prologue 

A grudge lingered between mankind and the demi-humans. The beginning of that rift did not, in fact, begin that long ago. This Earth, rife as it is with continuous conflict, did not have much in the way of archaeological research and so it was difficult to discern. But assuming this world’s mankind evolved similarly to how humanity in Ryoma’s world did, one can assume human civilization and history existed only a few tens of thousands of years. 

Within that time period, the two races only became entwined relatively recently. If nothing else, their relationship didn’t fit the rather trite depiction of two rival races whose opposition was decreed by the Creator God when the world was first formed. 

Quite the contrary, in fact. The truth was that upon their first meeting, the two races in fact lived in harmony and coexistence. The demi-humans used their unique racial features to bring profit to human society, and benefited from humanity’s presence. The same could be said of mankind. Of course, that wasn’t to say there was absolutely no sense of animosity or revulsion between one race and the other, but if nothing else, that wasn’t prevalent enough to result in any wars. 

But one day, the delicate balance that relationship hinged on was broken suddenly. It happened some four hundred and a few dozen years ago. Two men hailing from the parallel world of Rearth appeared in this land, and drove the cogs of fate out of order. 

It was not clear how those two men found their way to this world. Perhaps they were lost souls that were summoned across the dimensions by one country or another that existed at the time. But whatever the circumstances may have been, it all began when these men infiltrated the Church of the God of Light — an organization that at the time only barely had influence in the smallest part of the western continent — and distorted the faith. 

The men advocated to the people, telling them that mankind was an unrivaled race created by the God of Light. That humans were the sole race acknowledged by God as the rulers of this world. 

Of course, they had no proof that any of that was true. But that ideology spread among the humans of that time like a narcotic. Elitism. The perception that they were the chosen people. The way of thinking that they were chosen by God, or some other force that transcended mankind. In terms of Ryoma’s world, it was similar to how Caucasians saw themselves as superior, and looked down upon other people, such as the Asians. 

Not a soul in this world could know why those two men proposed such a dangerous idea. But perhaps it wasn’t as unnatural as one might assume. The idea that this brand of elitism was dangerous only became widespread among the people during the twentieth century. Even America, which was stereotyped as being overly obsessed with human rights, had legalized discrimination against the African-Americans and other people of color up until the 2000s. 

Perhaps they truly harbored those beliefs, or maybe they had some other intentions in mind. But regardless of their motives, the result was all the same. Their honeyed words were advocated time and again, eventually sublimating into absolute faith, and made mankind haughty and proud of their presumed position in the world. 

And that led to an unprecedented uprising. A bloody war broke out between mankind and the other demi-human races. At first it was the elves, then the dwarfs and the beastmen. As a result, most of the demi-humans — which were already few in number — disappeared off the face of the western continent. They took refuge in hideouts located in the unexplored, undeveloped regions of the continent, like the Wortenia Peninsula, scraping by as their bloodlines only barely persisted. 

A forested strip of land existed in the northeastern reaches of the Wortenia Peninsula. Hidden in the center of that forest was a modest, isolated village. It was a small fortress, guarded by a moat and a powerful barrier field. A small haven, built upon the sacrifice of many of the village’s residents. 

Sitting in the only council room built in this village, seven men and women had met to discuss the immediate future. 

“Nelcius... What are you doing?” said one of the men, who had fair white skin and long, golden hair. “I know you have not forgotten the injustice our ancestors suffered at the hands of humankind... Why are you opposing this? You too have participated in the holy war before.” 

His facial features were quite fair. Even ignoring personal taste, there wasn’t a soul alive that would describe him as an ugly man. But right now, his handsome face was contorted in anger. And his growl filled with anger and animosity was met with agreement from those around him. 

“That’s right. You were once called the Mad Demon, but now you intend to stand idly by and let that human rule over this land?” 

“Pathetic... Even the mightiest grow feeble with age, it seems...” 

Words of disdain and criticism rose from every corner of the table. All of the people seated at this round table directed venomous glares at the silver-haired male called Nelcius. But he himself didn’t seem to show any signs of displeasure at those gazes. He was either exceedingly confident or blessed with a brazen, bold character. There wasn’t so much as a shadow of displeasure to his violet eyes. 

He was a large man, much more so than any of the other elves seated at this round table. Had it not been for the fair facial features and pointed ears unique for his race, one would be inclined to think he was too large to be an elf. In fact, only when one was told that he had the blood of ogres — who sported brute strength unmatched by both humans and elves — did one believe that for the first time. 

“What am I doing...?” Nelcius echoed the other elf’s question, resting his chin on his rock-like fist. “Well, if I’m to be quite honest, I have to admit that I don’t quite understand why you’re all so obstinate.” 

But this attitude only made everyone’s gazes sharpen. It certainly did not come across well given the situation. This was a critical meeting that dealt with the survival of their race. Acting this way when everyone else present regarded him with animosity came across as mostly mocking everyone else. 

Nelcius had his reasons, however. He was, in fact, quite exasperated with everyone else. 

Such a waste of time... I’d have been better off spending this time on a siesta. Nelcius heaved a sigh, with that thought crossing his mind. 

The commotion started when abducted elven girls were rescued and returned to the village by a human. At first they all rejoiced upon seeing the girls’ safety, but that soon turned to fear when they heard what the girls had to say. 

Having too many fools about is a problem... Not that I don’t understand how they feel, given what happened in the past. 

Including Nelcius, the seven men and women gathered here made up the chiefs of several elf and dark elf clans, and given their position, they couldn’t leave this incident ignored. That was all the more true because some of the chiefs here were of the generation that experienced the holy war of four centuries ago. Having fought a gruesome war where they had to face swarms of humans in bloody combat, they would naturally be extremely wary of mankind. 

Nelcius, however, cared little for such sentimental arguments. Making the best possible choice for the future of the elven race was the responsibility and role of these chiefs. 

We cannot leave his reign unchecked... That may be true. But what else do they suggest we do...? 

Military force. Going to war to defend Wortenia, their paradise which was free of human domination, was the first idea to come to mind. But the only thing that awaited at the end of that choice would be a slow, sluggish war that would threaten the continued existence of the elven race. 

Most of the elves sitting at this table could see nothing but the enemy before their eyes — Ryoma Mikoshiba. The man that defeated the despicable pirates and declared he has possession over the lands of the Wortenia Peninsula. Many of the chiefs were ardently in favor of starting another holy war, but Nelcius turned a cold gaze toward them. 

Assertive, aren’t they...? But have they paid any thought to what will happen assuming we do overthrow Ryoma Mikoshiba? 

As far as they knew, Ryoma Mikoshiba’s forces weren’t vast. Their scouts reported he only had five hundred men, at best. So if nothing else, if the seven chiefs were to pool their forces, they would exceed them in sheer numbers. Each clan had a few hundred warriors, so put together their forces would reach about two thousand strong. 

There was no problem in terms of locational advantage, either. The elves did live in this land for several centuries, after all, and so no one knew the topography of the Wortenia Peninsula better than they did. 

Ergo, if they were to go to war with Ryoma Mikoshiba, their chances of victory were by no means slim. But the problem was what would come after that war ends. The humans were exceedingly greedy. If the elves were to slay an officially appointed governor, the Kingdom of Rhoadseria would deploy its army next. 

And even if they were to repel that, an international allied army would come knocking on their doorstep, just like the holy war of four centuries ago. And Nelcius and the other chiefs would not be able to oppose such a force. Even if they were to force the women and children to fight, their total numbers wouldn’t reach thirty thousand. 

No, even the assumption we’d win a war against that man is an optimistic one... 

Nelcius’s side did have the numerical and locational advantage, and with that regard, it seemed their prospects of beating Ryoma were sound. But his intuition as a warrior who lived through the holy war kept trying to alert Nelcius of danger. 

Going to war would be a bad play... In which case... 

Ignoring the gaze of the other chiefs, Nelcius’s heart turned colder. After the council ended, Nelcius retired to his room and sank into contemplation. Given that his clan had the largest elven population and he was known as the Mad Demon for his combat prowess, Nelcius’s refusal to fight wasn’t something the others could very much abide. Without his help, choosing to go to all-out war with the humans became far too risky of a choice. 

But on the other hand, depending on how the negotiations with Ryoma Mikoshiba go, Nelcius stood to potentially lose a lot of his influence over the demi-humans. His handling the negotiations also meant he took responsibility over the results of these talks. 

I suppose I’ll need to resort to that, then... 

Truth be told, Nelcius himself wasn’t excited about taking this choice. But even if he didn’t want to make that decision, he did recognize it was an effective one. 

Considering how it all started, I can’t order anyone to do this except for her. And if the worst happens and we need to deal with this situation, the only one with the skills to handle it out of all the warrior tribes is her. 

His beloved daughter, Dilphina. She was blessed with a beauty that was praised as the jewel of elvenkind, and stood as one of the greatest warriors of her tribe, second only to her father, Nelcius. 

There was, of course, a reason she was caught and rendered helpless by the pirates. It all began when a small group of children wandered out of the village out of curiosity. While they were children, their bodies weren’t much different from an adult’s. Elves retained their youth for far longer than humans do. Their lifespans lasted a thousand, even two thousand years. Their bodies developed for the first few decades of their lives, and then retained that appearance of being in their mid-twenties for the majority of their lifespan. 

This was a racial trait of the elves, and it was thought to stem from the fact that they were born with a larger amount of prana compared to humans. Whether that was true was unknown, however. 

Regardless of the cause, this was a trait humans greatly envied, as it stressed what they saw as a flaw in their own species. They claimed to be perfect lifeforms blessed by God, and this discrepancy stood as proof of that belief being wrong. 

There were a few problems the elves had as a race, but there were two major flaws. The first was that their fertility rates were low. Elves could only beget children during a mating period that occurred once a year. Perhaps this flaw stemmed from their longevity. If they had the same productive prowess humanity had, the western continent would likely have been controlled by the elves by present day. 

But the second problem here was their other major flaw. While their physical features kept developing until they were fifty years of age, they were much slower in cognitive development. In terms of humans, it was like having youths in their mid-teens with the mental capacity of a kindergartner or an elementary schooler. 

The height of their curiosity was only matched by how low their self-restraint was. The period they spent as children in mature bodies lasted roughly a century. This was, of course, the natural development of an elf’s physiology, and so it normally wasn’t seen as a problem. But every now and then, those children would cause trouble. And this case was one such example. 

I can’t fault them for it... At their age, I, too, longed to go outside. My parents often scolded me for it. 

Nelcius’s childhood was in the days before the holy war, and so there weren’t many restrictions. But he still felt stifled and bored, and often ventured out of the forest with his friends to go on adventures. And, as these things often do, it mostly ended with them being severely told off for their mischief. 

But this time, the children’s mischief was ill-timed, as they ran into pirates on a slave hunt. Dilphina and her comrades tried to save those children, only to end up being caught instead. And had Ryoma Mikoshiba not exterminated the pirates and escorted Dilphina and the other captive dark elves back to the demi-human village, Nelcius may never have seen his daughter again. 

“Excuse me, Father. I’ve heard you called for me.” There were a few knocks on the door, and Dilphina’s voice reached him from behind the door. 

“Come in,” Nelcius said, prompting Dilphina to open the door. 

She likely knew what he was going to say, because Nelcius could see her expression was stiffer than usual. 

Forgive me... 

Seeing that expression flooded Nelcius’s heart with guilt. As a father, he hated nothing more than to send his beloved daughter back to the humans. But as a chief, he couldn’t prioritize his safety or his family’s well being over everyone else. Nelcius realized he placed the weight of their entire race on Dilphina’s shoulders, but Nelcius had no other choice. 

Heaving a small sigh, Nelcius gestured for his daughter to approach. All to safeguard the future of the elven race...