[At the Same Time, Different Place (4)]
With a warm atmosphere created by a genuinely kind smile and gentle pats, Harley nodded happily.
‘I’m glad I came. By the way, this guy has some good social skills too.’
His arrival here was no coincidence.
Despite Harley’s travels through the isolated South where communication was poor, his eyes and ears were already everywhere across the continent.
Naturally, he was also keeping an eye on the mercenary guild’s situation regularly.
‘Fortunately, the South has settled down to a degree.’
Thanks to that, Harley was able to set a visit schedule without further delay, and naturally, the guild managed to skirt around the chaos that was bound to ensue.
Now, that’s what you call a win-win situation!
‘It’s good for both sides. Hmph.’
On that side, they avoided the disaster filled with destruction and bloodshed, and he also got rid of unnecessary nuisances.
It was the picture-perfect happy ending.
‘Of course, I need to keep checking since they might try something behind the scenes.’
It’s always better to prevent issues than to clean up after they happen.
It would also be a good idea to engrave a solid advantage into their minds this time.
“Pahaha! On such a day, we must feast on some meat! I’ll pay today, so let’s all go eat! Where’s the best meat restaurant around here?”
With that, Harley cheerfully shouted, like a department head suggesting a gathering for camaraderie.
Eating together is the best way to strengthen human relationships, isn’t it?
“Cough, cough.”
“Umm, about that…”
“We still have training today…”
“…I’m on a diet.”
But as expected, the reactions were not very good.
The high-ranking guild members, except for Patrick, avoided eye contact, looking burdensome as they averted their gazes, like employees wanting to leave early.
Everyone could see that it was a clear expression of refusal, but Harley, who didn’t care about others’ opinions, slowly folded his arms and furrowed his brow.
“Eh? Could it be that you don’t like meat?”
His discontent was palpable, with the muscles in his arms twitching like they were independent creatures.
Such a person shouldn’t exist in this world.
Even if they did, he couldn’t accept it.
“…That can’t be true. I was just thinking of the best meat place in Dracal. I happened to think of a place with high quality and quantity, so I’ll take you there.”
“Hahaha, I’d feel bad eating without my subordinates. I could always catch a few pigs for them, right?”
“Ahem, if you don’t like meat, you’re not a warrior. Eating well is part of training too…”
“Hahaha! For a healthy diet, you should consume meat occasionally.”
Thanks to Harley’s lively presence as the atmosphere maker, the surrounding air grew warm and lively once again.
Satisfied, he nodded, then confidently stepped out of the guild building.
And immediately following behind was Patrick, who kept bowing and nodding, while the high-ranking guild members began to move slowly, eyeing each other.
To the outside observer, these top forces of the continent seemed to easily submit at just a face-to-face encounter, but there were reasonable explanations for their reactions.
‘…For now, I’ll stay as low as possible. Still, there’s a chance. The first Mercenary King who reached the realm of transcendence also perished in his last battle against the Undead King. If that guy ends up like that…’
‘This is bad. Clayven has completely fallen under his sway. Should I change my approach?’
‘What the hell was that? Is he even human? Or did they say he was a Dragonborn? It felt like facing some giant monster!’
‘Ugh, why did I even come? I should have just sent some underlings. …But to think he’s even wiped out Dragons… What kind of monster is the Undead King?’
Harley had become so accustomed to it that he didn’t even notice, but ever since he snatched the “Seed of Madness” from the revolutionary, he was constantly absorbing the madness that spread across the world.
It was the essence of unclean power that arose from the Abyss, akin to the “Heart of the Undying,” the source of Undead King Hans.
No matter how lowly it might be compared to death, it was still a force that living beings couldn’t just handle.
It was no wonder that the strong with developed senses were overreacting.
“Friend! You said you’d guide us to a good place, right? Lead the way!”
“Ah— yes. This way, please.”
In simple terms, those who had survived for a long time in the rough mercenary world prioritized survival instincts over pride or ego.
“Oh! Speaking of which, I completely forgot to bring money! What should I do…?”
“…Today, I will treat you. Meeting a hero like you, who represents mercenaries, is a great honor.”
“Oh! This guy really has an excellent mindset! Let’s be friends from now on! Hahaha!”
“Haha…”
Just moments ago, they had dismissed him as a barbarian and couldn’t say a word in protest, merely awkwardly laughing.
That day, Dracal’s meat specialty store, “Ogre’s Table,” recorded its highest sales ever, and all the meat was sold out.
Clayven, who dreamed of becoming the Mercenary King, held a bill that was far too excessive for a single meal and tightly closed his eyes.
He tried to rationalize it, saying it was still a bargain.
*
In a space filled with fresh air.
The refreshing energy surrounding it was swirling in a wild manner.
Whoooosh—
But at the eye of the storm, the person at its center remained completely still, merely half-opening their eyes to focus on something.
Unlike the tumult outside, his blonde hair fluttered gently like in a breeze, with emerald irises and golden pupils slightly covered by long eyelashes, along with smooth, glossy skin like ivory.
These various elements harmonized together, enhancing the mysteriousness of his existence, akin to a masterpiece crafted by a skilled artisan.
Then, at some point.
As the surrounding storm subsided, his long ears perked up several times.
Gradually, his eyelids opened wide, revealing the star-shaped pupils that had been hidden.
“…Done.”
With a whisper-like languid voice, he— Harris Greenwood, the High Elf of the Elven Kingdom—slightly lifted the corners of his mouth while looking up at the presence floating in front of him.
Shluuur—Shlurp—
As the amorphous blue entity twisted its body, a clear water-like sound escaped.
Harris admired it for a moment before slowly extending a hand toward it.
After a moment of contact and communion…
“…From today on, you’re ‘Liter.’”
He gently smiled at the stream of water that slithered up his arm like a snake.
This was now his third contract since returning from the Ganghwan Realm, making it the seventh if he included the existing spirits.
‘This really is effective.’
By some chance, he had harvested the “Soft Eight Trigrams Secret Skill (Modified)” and “Nature Affinity,” which vastly expanded his nature affinity.
No matter how much a High Elf one might be, each individual has their own suitable attributes. The Soft Eight Trigrams Secret Skill helped him break free from such limitations.
‘The aggressive tendencies from the Ganghwan Realm vanished completely upon returning to Auterica… though it seems I’ve become a bigger hassle than before.’
That much was a price to pay for achieving a higher level of harmony with nature.
Nevertheless, thanks to this, he could now handle the Earth Spirit Hektar, Light Spirit Lumen, and Water Spirit Liter, along with the already-existing Lightning Spirit Watt, Fire Spirit Kali, and Wind Spirit Pascal, thus becoming an all-rounder spirit user.
‘The new spirits grow quickly too. They have evolved beyond low-grade the moment we contracted, and the first contracted spirit, Hektar, is already on the verge of becoming high-grade!’
Normally, spirit users and their spirits grow alongside each other, but such norms didn’t apply in a situation filled with exceptions like now.
From the start, his very existence was irregular.
“…You’ve done it again! What exactly have you been doing to make such things possible?”
Just then, a woman’s voice filled with admiration drifted from behind.
There was an elf girl, Shapiron, with blue eyes and blue hair, sitting on the floor with a basket of snacks made from tree bark in her arms.
“Well, I suppose you could say I had a bit of an epiphany… I can’t really explain it. I just ended up being able to do it.”
“…The world really is unfair…”
She pouted at his vague answer, complaining softly.
When Harris first arrived in the Elven Kingdom, he was merely a novice spirit user, handling a low-grade Lightning Spirit.
She had already been an excellent student capable of controlling mid-grade spirits back then.
‘That was the case…’
Now, his spirits seemed to have eaten something really good, evolving and evolving, and he himself succeeded in establishing connections with Fire, Wind, and Sound spirits.
Even her father, Laforey, could only control three attributes like ordinary High Elves!
‘But now, it’s up to seven.’
I heard that the current queen, who handles five attributes, is quite rare, but seven is practically unheard of.
And hearing her talk made it sound like she wouldn’t stop there!
‘I’m still managing just one high-grade spirit…’
Honestly, having a high-grade spirit at her age was already enough to be called a genius.
The guardians of the extreme were at the next stage of high-grade spirits.
Of course, her ability to handle only one attribute was a weakness, but she could already be treated as an elite force upon graduating.
‘…So what?’
But now that barely sufficed for her standards.
The comparison point had become overwhelmingly substantial, making even that seem rather insufficient.
She had once considered him a rival, which made it worse.
‘Can I really become a High Elf?’
An involuntary sigh slipped out.
Just as Shapiron was sulking alone, lost in her thoughts…
Tap—
A gentle hand came to rest on the top of her head.
Surprised, she quickly raised her head to find Harris looking down at her, blinking several times.
She never expected him to take such action, considering he usually spent most of his time listlessly without approaching others.
However, it was he, Harris, who found the situation more awkward.
‘…What should I say in a case like this?’
Feeling sympathy for her dejected self while comparing himself to an irregular case like her, he stepped forward lightly, but having lived a life far removed from comforting others, he had no clue what to do next.
No matter how he thought about it, his attempt to encourage her in this situation would feel like a deception, wouldn’t it?
‘Wait, I’ve heard that women hate having their heads touched.’
After a short pause of silence, he recalled some knowledge he had picked up and quickly removed his hand from her head.
His awkwardly lifted hand and aimlessly wandering gaze, combined with a forced smile that seemed to be trapped—one could see that he was merely an inexperienced young man in interpersonal relationships, not an absolute being.
Hahaha!
Shapiron, who had been quietly looking up at him while squatting, couldn’t help but burst into laughter at this silly sight.
‘…He looks so foolish now.’
Somehow, it seemed pointless to continue being miserable like this.
While it didn’t resolve the worries she held deep inside, she certainly felt a weight lift from her heart.
She then wiggled around, placed the basket she had been holding aside, and looked back at Harris.
“…I brought snacks; would you like some?”
“…Sounds good.”
In truth, she was just as inexperienced in interpersonal relationships.
*
In a deserted mountain area.
Crackle—
From somewhere within, an unfamiliar noise emerged.
The source was a thin crack in empty space.
It widened little by little with small popping sounds—
Snap!
Before long, a portion of it shattered, creating a small hole in the void.
From that point onward, the crack rapidly began to grow.
Szzzz—
But that was only for a moment. As it continued expanding, it suddenly halted, completely ceasing movement.
Whooooom—
Slowly, it began to retract its area by an unseen force from the outside.
Much like fixing a bug in real-time, the space began to restore itself in an instant.
Thin lines that had spread like cracks vanished, and the thick lines that were fading soon disappeared as well.
Now, what remained was just a single hole the size of a coin at its center.
Even that was slowly shrinking as it got filled from all sides.
In such a situation—
“…What a pity. Was it not enough?”
A voice drifted from beyond that space.
A voice that was both faint yet distinct, strong yet fragile, an unfathomable man’s voice.
“Still…”
It echoed from beyond the miniature hole that had shrunk to the size of a needle’s eye.
“This will be the last.”
After leaving just that single phrase, the crack disappeared completely, falling into silence.
The mountains returned to their tranquil state, as if nothing had ever happened.
—The Calm Before the Storm was coming to an end.
