A small wooden boat drifted gently on the ocean near the shore. A young man sat atop it, fishing rod in hand, looking perfectly relaxed. Even as creatures from the Demon Realm emerged into the world, as demons descended upon the land, and chaos spread everywhere, none of it seemed to matter to this young man in a sleepy rural village. His greatest concern was whether or not he’d catch a fish for dinner. His parents, and their parents before them, had lived their entire lives here. He believed, without a doubt, that he and his own children would do the same—growing old and dying in this peaceful place. With a lazy flick, he cast his fishing line again. Just then, the sea began to ripple. At first, he thought it was just a random wave and ignored it, but the disturbance grew stronger. Narrowing his eyes, he peered out across the water. The sea split open. Something enormous was coming toward him, parting the water as it advanced. The boy wondered if it was a sea monster. Panicked, the young man started paddling away as fast as he could. But the parted sea surged up to his very boat in the blink of an eye. With a tremendous roar, water exploded skyward. “Aaaah!” The young man screamed, clutching the sides of his wildly rocking boat as waves crashed over him. Eventually, the sea calmed. Cautiously, the young man opened his eyes. “What in the world...” A barbarian floated, half-submerged, just in front of his boat, gazing right at him. Frantically, the young man looked around for help. There was no one—only the barbarian, looming over him. Wait..., the young man thought, as realization struck. Did...the sea part like that just because this barbarian was swimming? The barbarian, still watching him, finally spoke. “I have a question.” “Y-yes, sir! Ask me anything...” The young man’s knees shook as he bowed, treating the barbarian as if he were a spirit of the sea. “Is there a forest called Schwarzwald nearby?” the barbarian asked him. “Yes, yes there is...” “Great. Which direction is it?” the barbarian asked him. The young man pointed shakily. The barbarian flashed a pleasant smile. “Thanks. Here, this is for you.” He tossed something onto the boat. The young man’s eyes widened. It was a giant pearl—gleaming, flawless, and perfectly round. A single pearl like that could feed him for six months, easily. Entranced, the young man clutched the precious jewel. The sea stirred again. When it finally stilled, the barbarian had vanished without a trace. “What...?” the boy stammered. He wondered if he had dozed off while fishing and dreamt the whole thing. It was as if he were in some bizarre fever dream. However, his clothes were still wet with seawater, and the pearl in his hand told him it had all been real. For a long time, the young man stared at the pearl. Only when the sun was setting did he finally make his way back to the village. There, he told everyone what had happened, but of course, they all thought he was insane. Yet telling the story delighted him, and it’s said that he eventually left the village to become a wandering bard—a tale that, in truth, didn’t matter to anyone. Ketal set out for the elven sacred ground, heading in the direction the merfolk had described. The journey was long. It took hours to cross the vast distance. At one point, unsure if he was going the right way, he asked a passing young man for directions. Fortunately, the information matched up—he was on the right track. Finally, Ketal arrived at his destination. A forest stood before him—a sprawling expanse of ancient conifers, their branches interlocked above. A forest so vast, people said, anyone who entered would be lost forever, never to return. This was a forest the size of a nation: Schwarzwald. Somewhere within lay the elven sacred ground—Elfo Sagrado. Ketal stepped into the woods, feeling a flicker of excitement. From the outside, it looked like any normal forest. Trees crowded thick together, insects buzzed, and the occasional mountain animal rustled in the underbrush. It was the kind of forest he might have found on Earth, but the knowledge that this was a fantasy world made even a simple walk exhilarating. So the sacred ground is somewhere in here, he thought. He couldn’t see any sign of it yet. However, that was hardly surprising—the forest was immense, and he’d only just entered. Ketal kicked off the ground and began to run. The forest was wide, but he was fast, darting through the trees as he searched deeper and deeper. However, he couldn’t find anything significant. Given that the place had supposedly been attacked by forces of evil, he expected at least some kind of trace—an aura, a lingering presence, maybe even signs of battle. However, there was nothing. It felt like any ordinary forest. If anything, that only piqued Ketal’s curiosity further. Of course, if it were easy to find just by wandering around, someone would have stumbled upon it by now. And with dark mages attacking, there was no way they’d leave such an important place unprotected. Clearly, ordinary methods weren’t going to work. Ketal paused to consider. In human terms, the elven sacred ground was the equivalent of a royal castle. And near a royal castle, there were usually villages—large and small—clustered around it. In that case, he could simply look for a village and ask for directions. And if that didn’t work, he could always track down a dark mage and ask them, politely or otherwise. Changing his approach, Ketal set off to look for a settlement. Before long, he found what he was looking for—a small elven village nestled between the trees. From the edge of the woods, Ketal peered through the trees at the village. It looked just like the first elven settlement he had ever seen. It hadn’t even been that long ago, but nostalgia washed over him. Will they be alright? The village is out in the open, he wondered. If monsters from the White Snowfield made it out here, the elves could be in danger. Still, the odds were low. There weren’t any truly dangerous creatures in this part of the forest, and the elven queen’s power should be enough to protect everyone. Ketal approached the village at a measured pace. The closer he got, the more he realized—there was no sign of life. The village was completely empty. He stepped into the ruins. Half the village had been destroyed. Houses made of wood and woven vines had been smashed to pieces. The ground and nearby walls bore scars of battle. Bloodstains marked the earth, and elven bodies lay scattered throughout. It was a chilling sight. Ketal stood in silence, taking in the devastation. Dark mages? he guessed. The blood had not yet dried, meaning the attack was recent. Looking closer, he saw tracks—signs that someone had been dragged away. Judging by the small footprints, it was probably elven children. Just as Ketal was piecing together the scene, someone rushed toward him at high speed. “Huff, huff...” It was an elf. Her green hair, soaked with sweat, whipped behind her as she caught her breath and took in the destruction. “A survivor?” Ketal noted. “You!” The elf’s face twisted in rage as she saw Ketal. “You damned dark mages! How dare you attack our village!” “Oh,” Ketal thought, realizing she was jumping to the wrong conclusion. “I’ll never forgive—!” As the elf started to scream, Ketal moved in an instant. He vanished from her sight, appearing right in front of her and covering her mouth before she could shout further. “Mmmph!” The elf’s eyes went wide in shock, unable to react. Having subdued her, Ketal considered the situation. Why do all my encounters with elves start with a misunderstanding? he thought. Here he was—a lone barbarian in the middle of a ruined elven village, surrounded by corpses. It was hardly surprising she’d jump to conclusions. However, this time, Ketal had no intention of simply standing by and waiting for her to attack. He spoke calmly. “I am not your enemy. I would prefer to clear up this misunderstanding.” Ketal released the elf and quickly explained. He informed her that he had been invited to help the elves and had close ties to one of the High Elves. At first, the elf looked at him like he was spewing nonsense. However, when Ketal produced the red gemstone and mentioned Arkhemis, her suspicion faded, and her expression softened. Realizing her mistake, she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright. I can see why you’d think that.” Are elves just naturally prone to misunderstanding? Ketal wondered. Every elf he met seemed to jump to conclusions. Maybe I should start keeping a note that elves are quick to misunderstand. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novèlfire.net “So this was a village near the sacred ground?” he asked the elf. Elves were divided into many tribes, each ruled by a queen. This elf was the Queen of the Blooming Petals Tribe, a group that had lived for generations near the sacred ground. “What happened here?” Ketal asked her. “Dark mages attacked our village,” she said, grinding her teeth in frustration. The dark mages had launched a full-scale assault on the elven sacred ground, and her village had been caught in the crossfire. While preparing to evacuate to the sacred ground, the dark mages discovered their location and struck first. In their absence, the enemy laid waste to the village. The queen bit her lip, her grief and anger plain to see. “I’m sorry... I failed to protect them,” she said. “You still have those left to protect,” Ketal replied. “Huh? What do you mean?” “Look at these tracks,” Ketal said, pointing out the small footprints. The queen’s eyes widened. “The dark mages... took our children?” “Those slaves of evil! How dare they lay hands on our young?” she cried, fury shaking her hands as she gripped her bow. “Do the dark mages have any reason to take elven children?” Ketal asked her. “I don’t know,” the queen replied, her face darkening. “Maybe, since they can’t breach the sacred ground, they’re taking hostages. Vile creatures.” She clenched her jaw. Ketal rubbed his chin in thought. “So the sacred ground is holding out.” “Yes. The enemies failed to breach it and retreated back into the forest.” “That explains why I didn’t sense anything,” Ketal mused. “They’re not content just targeting the sacred ground—they go after our children, too...” The queen’s frustration boiled over. “Are you planning to go after them?” Ketal asked her. “Of course!” she answered instantly. She was the queen of her clan. She would risk her life to protect her people’s children, and she fully intended to track the dark mages down. Ketal grinned, glad for the opportunity. “Good. Then I’ll help you.” “No, you don’t need to. You’re a guest—there’s no reason for you to risk your life by marching into the dark mages’ lair.” “But I still haven’t found the sacred ground,” Ketal replied. “And as an outsider, I’d have a hard time getting there on my own. Besides, you’re going to look for the children anyway. It’s more efficient if I help, so we can finish quickly and head to the sacred ground together.” The queen hesitated, then finally nodded. “Thank you.” She realized that, despite her earlier mistake, this barbarian truly meant to help. It made her feel all the more embarrassed about their misunderstanding. Ketal, meanwhile, was simply curious. I’ve always wanted to try tracking someone by following their trail. Feels almost like being a detective. He beamed. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll help you get your revenge and rescue the children.” With a short word of thanks, the queen set out, determined. “How should we start?” Ketal asked her. “I can’t use spirits right now. The enemy has blocked tracking with natural energy as well,” she replied, frowning. The dark mages had planned for this, using diversions to draw her out and hiding their tracks well. Still, she was an elf—attuned to every shift in the natural world. Even if the mages had tried to cover their trail, they couldn’t perfectly erase all signs of their passage. She would follow the faintest traces left behind. Ketal watched her in fascination. “Wow, I didn’t know that was possible. I’ll follow your lead.” She quickly set off in the direction the children had been taken. Ketal, eager to see how elves tracked their prey, followed right behind. I wonder how elves track people. This should be interesting, he thought. They pressed on, the queen scanning for any sign of a trail. Suddenly, she stopped. “What’s wrong?” Ketal asked her. “The trail is gone...,” she said, biting her lip. Not even she could pick up the trail. She hadn’t expected the dark mages to be so thorough. “I’ll need to search for a bit. Please wait,” she said, searching the ground and nearby trees. However, Ketal spoke up. “No need. It’s this way.” “The trail continues in that direction,” Ketal said, pointing off into the woods. The queen looked at him, confused. “How did you know?” “Look here,” Ketal replied, kneeling and picking up a single fallen leaf from the forest floor. “See this? There’s a footprint right here. The direction of the imprint tells us where they went. They must have missed this one.” “Wait, you found that just by looking?” she stammered. The queen knelt beside him, inspecting the ground. But no matter how hard she looked, all the leaves seemed perfectly ordinary. Out of thousands of fallen leaves, he had found the one with a mark—a task akin to finding a needle in a haystack. And yet, he had done it. “Incredible...” she breathed. From then on, every time the trail seemed lost, Ketal would point out subtle clues—a nick on a branch, a scuff in the dirt—that she herself had overlooked. “There’s a mark at the tip of that branch. Did you miss it?” Ketal said. “I... I didn’t notice.” The pattern repeated, and the queen began to wonder, He always seems to know where the trail leads. Is he just letting me search to waste my time? In Ketal’s mind, of course, it was only natural—he wanted to see elven tracking in action, so waiting was part of the fun. However, to the queen, it felt strangely suspicious. Is he still mad that I attacked him at first? she wondered. She glanced at Ketal nervously. “Is something wrong?” Ketal asked her. “No, it’s nothing,” she replied, shaking her head. Must be my imagination, she thought. And so it continued—every time she lost the trail, Ketal would point out the next clue, allowing them to keep moving without delay. Thanks to him, they soon reached their goal—a small cave, hidden deep within the forest.