Chapter 7: Mercenary Town

Moonlight cast a silver glow, highlighting the sharp profile of the elf’s focused face.

Ilyas’s pounding heart gradually settled within that warm embrace as exhaustion washed over her.

At first, she tried to fight off the drowsiness, but she eventually succumbed to her fatigue, falling into a deep sleep surrounded by a reassuring scent.

She did not know how much time had passed.

In her haze, the first thing she felt was a rhythmic rising and falling, followed by the full, soft sensation beneath her head and the steady sound of a heartbeat in her ear.

She blinked her eyes blankly.

As the dim morning light filtered in, her vision slowly focused.

The first thing she saw was a small, dark stain on the fabric covering Celia’s chest.

Ilyas froze, her lingering sleepiness instantly vanishing.

Where her cheek rested, she could feel warm body heat and soft curves, and as for the location of that wet stain…

She subconsciously pursed her lips and, sure enough, felt a trace of moisture at the corner of her mouth.

Her face instantly erupted in heat.

She had actually been in Celia’s arms… sleeping so soundly while using that place as a pillow, and she had even drooled on her clothes.

Ilyas’s entire body went rigid.

She huddled in the crook of Celia’s arm, not daring to move an inch, her ears burning fiercely.

“You’re awake.”

Celia’s voice came from above, carrying a hint of morning raspiness and… a certain level of forced stability.

Her arm adjusted slightly, attempting to make Ilyas more comfortable, but the movement only caused Ilyas to sink deeper into that softness.

‘Don’t move… please, little ancestor…’

The cheeks that had just begun to cool burned hot once more.

Ilyas could feel the lines of Celia’s body grow even more tense than before.

A moment of silence followed.

Ilyas could sense that Celia wanted to say something but was hesitating.

“Ilyas,” Celia finally spoke, her voice tinged with embarrassment, “do you… know the way through this forest?”

Ilyas was stunned for a moment, then shook her head blankly, her cheek brushing lightly against Celia’s chest.

“No… I don’t. Weren’t you the one leading the way, Celia?”

“Well,” she cleared her throat, her voice dropping lower, “actually, I don’t know the way either.”

Ilyas stared at her in shock.

Wasn’t this the Elf Forest?

How could Celia, an elf, be lost here?

Celia seemed to read every question in her expression, and the tips of her pointed ears flushed red.

She looked away.

“Fine, fine… I know I’m Directionally Challenged. The only reason I met you was because I had been circling this area for half a day, unable to find my bearings…”

After a few seconds of silence, Ilyas burst out laughing.

The laughter was soft at first, but it quickly became clear and uncontrollable.

Her previously stiff body relaxed completely, and she rested her forehead against Celia’s shoulder, her own shoulders shaking slightly.

“This… is not funny.”

Celia tried to make her voice sound more authoritative, but it had little effect, especially while holding a shivering, laughing little girl in her arms.

“It is common for the forest to confuse one’s sense of direction.”

“Mm… Yes! I know… Haha… I’m sorry…”

***

After an unknown amount of time, relying on Ilyas’s ability to read the map, they finally found the correct path and headed toward the border between the Elven Empire and Askala.

The light between the trees grew brighter, and the surrounding scenery changed quietly.

Ilyas’s gaze inadvertently fell upon Celia again.

The previous night had been too dark for a careful observation, but now, under the sunlight, Celia’s blue-purple skin and long silver hair reminded her of the Dark Elves sung about by bards.

“You’re only realizing it now?”

Her tone didn’t carry much emotion.

“I thought the difference… was obvious enough.”

“But this is the first time I’ve met a living Dark Elf!”

Ilyas’s tone was light and full of excitement.

“Celia, I’ve heard… that Dark Elves are all romantic and gentle. Is that true?”

Celia’s footsteps faltered.

Her face was a mask of bewilderment.

“Damn bards!”

She blurted out.

“Ilyas, whatever you do, do not believe those fabricated stories from the taverns! Dark Elves are not as… wonderful as you think, especially when one approaches you for no reason.”

Her eyes looked directly into Ilyas’s.

Ilyas was startled by her sudden, intense reaction.

She blinked, and instead of being frightened, she pursed her lips and smiled.

“But Celia, you are very gentle to me.”

Celia’s face turned beet red, and she immediately turned around.

“Hurry up. There is an Adventurer Town ahead where we can rest for the night.”

Celia’s obvious attempt to change the subject by rushing her did not last long.

As the trees thinned, a well-trodden path appeared, and in the distance, the outlines of buildings could be seen.

The Adventurer Town sat on the edge of the forest.

With its wooden fences and rugged houses, the air was filled with the scents of roasted meat and ale — a stark contrast to the fresh, natural air of the forest.

The moment her feet touched the gravel road of the town, Celia felt a wave of intense discomfort.

Several bold female mercenaries made no effort to hide their stares, looking her up and down.

She should have expected this.

This place was close to several known Dark Elf territories, and they occasionally came here to purchase human supplies.

These people had long since known the nature of her race.

“Let’s find a place to stay first.”

Celia’s voice was very low as she subtly shielded Ilyas behind her.

Celia pulled Ilyas along, moving quickly through the crowd’s gaze.

She walked with purpose toward an inn that looked reasonably well-kept.

Compared to the other inns with loud mercenaries standing at the doors, this place seemed slightly quieter.

As she pushed the door open, the copper bell on the frame let out a crisp ring.

The lighting in the hall was dim, a fireplace was burning, and the warmth was mixed with the aroma of aged wood and stew.

A few guests sat scattered about, talking in low voices.

Celia breathed a small sigh of relief; at least there weren’t as many direct stares here.

Behind the counter, a curvy woman who looked to be in her 30-something years was wiping a glass.

However, when the Proprietress’s gaze landed on Celia, even though Celia’s hood was pulled down low, her unique skin tone and silver hair were hard to hide in the indoor light.

“Oh, welcome, travelers.”

The Proprietress’s voice was quite loud, carrying a familiar tone.

She leaned forward slightly, emphasizing her voluptuous figure, her eyes unhesitatingly scanning Celia.

Her gaze lingered particularly on the facial features and figure hidden in the shadows of the hood.

“A Dark Elf. And a lovely young lady. Looking for a room?”

“One room. It needs to be clean. For one night.”

“Of course, of course, a clean room.”

The Proprietress drew out her words.

“We occasionally have members of your… kin visiting. If you need it, I can help you, too.”

“No need.”

Celia quickly grabbed the key, took Ilyas’s hand, and headed toward the stairs.

Leaning against the counter, the Proprietress watched the figure disappear around the corner with interest.

She shook her head and let out a light chuckle.

“Heh, a Dark Elf that shy… now that truly is a first.”