118 – Calamity of the Elves

Diderlay’s earlier words were precisely what I cared about most. Only when I heard that he intended to keep my identity secret did the furrow between my brows slowly ease.

From what he’d said, I’d also gleaned some current facts about the Elf Tribe — namely, that even among Elves, unity was not absolute. There were ideological divisions.

If I remembered correctly, the current Elf King was the Moon Elf King. If nothing else, someone kneeling on one knee to someone not recognized as king was already a serious breach of etiquette.

“You just mentioned that only the Gold Elves are true leaders, but the one who sits on the throne now should be the Moon Elf King, no?”

“Yes, he is indeed a king — but only the king of the Moon Elves, not of the entire Elf Tribe.” Diderlay’s calm voice echoed throughout the tower — not defiant, not hesitant. He was simply stating a fact.

Hearing that, I instinctively glanced toward Litt and the Elf youth who had been watching me closely.

Clearly, no one reacted in shock. There were no signs of alarm or unease on anyone’s face.

“Your Highness Teresa, as I said, everyone within the Tower of Sages understands the larger picture. In plain terms — they’re our people,” Diderlay said with a smile, having caught on to my concern.

“You need not worry about your personal freedom being restricted.”

That, I truly didn’t understand. The Moon Elf was now king of the Elf Tribe. What Diderlay said just now would be considered treason. In human law, that would already be a capital offense.

The Moon Elves hadn’t ruled for long, but logically, most Elves should recognize and accept their leadership.

Did Litt and the others not think so?

“Hmm? Why’re you looking at me like that, Your Highness?” Litt tilted her head when she noticed my gaze.

“Ah, could it be you’re thinking I dislike the Moon Elf King? No, no — I respect him very much. It’s just...” Litt scratched her head. “I don’t really agree that the Moon Elf King is the rightful ruler of all Elves.”

That belief wasn’t just inherited from her parents’ teachings — it was something she felt. She often dreamed of a towering, unreachable tree, one she couldn’t see clearly or touch, yet its presence was vast and life-giving. She felt as though her own power and life were merely wisps of vitality drifting from that tree.

In truth, Litt wasn’t the only one. Many Elves had a vague, instinctual connection to the Sacred Tree. Even without having seen it, they somehow knew: it was not this land, but that distant, untouchable “Mother Tree” that gave them everything.

And the further they were from it, the stronger that longing became — like a child who had wandered too long and couldn’t find their way back to their mother.

Diderlay was no exception.

He had once believed that distancing himself from the Sacred Tree would sever that bond — that dependency. But now he understood: it was the Sacred Tree that had granted them life and Divine Authority. To cut ties with the tree was to abandon all it had generously given.

What a treasonous, ungrateful thought — like a child raised by a kind mother turning to abandon her...

Watching the Elf Tribe fall further into decline, and seeing the golden-haired Gold Elf girl standing before him, Diderlay felt he had to do something to atone for his past misjudgment.

So...

I looked at Alarel again. His gaze toward me was calm, yet carried a trace of respect. Other Elf scholars who’d taken notice also looked my way — all with that same, silent reverence.

It had been centuries since the Gold Elves were last seen. And now, standing right in front of them was a possible lead to the Sacred Tree. Their reactions may have seemed subdued, but that was just their nature.

Their emotions couldn’t be put into words. But the only way they chose to express them was with a steady gaze — powerful rationality suppressing any impulsive feelings.

“Lord Diderlay, please rise.” It was awkward having someone kneel in front of me like this.

“Thank you.” Diderlay stood and, with a wave of his hand, summoned a jade table carved with elegant patterns and a few chairs.

“For thousands of years, perhaps because they too are High Elves, the Moon Elves never truly accepted the Sacred Tree or the Gold Elves as their leaders — but in the end, they’re just rebellious children.” Diderlay poured tea as he spoke.

I hesitated, but seeing how straightforward he was — not hiding anything — I stepped forward, pulled out a chair, and sat down with a soft “Thank you.”

Seeing that, Diderlay smiled faintly. Willingness to sit meant I was at least open to hearing what he had to say.

“Hehe... Ow! Hey, what are you pulling me for?” Litt had tried to sit next to me, but Alarel yanked her collar and dragged her back.

Litt puffed out her cheeks in frustration, her twin-tails practically twitching from annoyance.

If Her Highness pulls me, that’s fine — but what gives you the right?!

Alarel said nothing. He simply gave her a blank look — the kind humans would call a “look of pity for an idiot.”

A long-time Elder was speaking with royalty — and you’re trying to barge in? Even if you sit there, would you understand a word?

“I already knew you were like this, but I still have to say — you really don’t know your place.” Alarel shook his head, resumed his book maintenance, and left Litt behind.

“What the heck!” Litt grumbled, rubbing her ponytails.

Seriously, why are all Elves such cryptic, half-talking weirdos?!

“Your Highness Teresa, please rest assured — the divisions within the Elf Tribe are sharp. Perhaps not all Elves welcome the return of the Gold Elves. But if I may speak boldly, I care about your identity’s secrecy just as much as you do.”

“I swear upon the Sacred Wood — I, Diderlay Oleniman, have spoken only the truth, and have no intention of deceiving or harming you.” Diderlay added this solemn vow, likely worried I still didn’t trust him.

This wasn’t some meaningless “swear to get hit by a carriage if I’m lying” promise. Among Elves, vows and tradition were sacred — even more important than life itself to some. Swearing by the Sacred Tree was a double oath, and under such a vow, no Elf would dare lie. But such oaths were also rarely made lightly.

“Then, may I ask, Lord Diderlay — what is it that you wish to know from me?” I sipped my tea gracefully, letting the steam drift upward.

“Regarding that... please tell me only when you’re ready, Your Highness. If now isn’t the right time, that’s perfectly alright.”

I raised a brow slightly. I had considered the Academy might uncover my identity, but what I hadn’t expected was that the Elf Tribe itself was this divided — and that the Gold Elves were at the center of that rift.

But I knew almost nothing about the inner workings of the Elf Tribe. In fact, this Moon Elf Elder probably knew more about it than I did.

Still, I understood Diderlay’s intentions. He was saying: I stand with you. I do not recognize the Moon Elf King as the true Elf King.

Realizing that, I felt the web of mysteries around me grow denser. And me, the Gold Elf at the eye of the storm, knew nothing — as if I stood in a pitch-black cave, unable to see my own hand in front of me.

“So... Lord Diderlay came to find me just to have tea?” I gently sipped the brew.

“You could put it that way,” Diderlay nodded slightly, reclining back.

I furrowed my brows. I’d thought he came seeking a secret only Gold Elves possessed — maybe to barter, or even threaten me for it. But right from the start, he’d explained the current Elf Tribe's tension, warned me to conceal my identity, and even swore on the Sacred Tree — nearly declaring allegiance with a kneel.

As far as sincerity went, he’d shown more than enough.

If not for secrets... then what?

“Could you tell me, then — why are you doing all this?” I asked. What I wanted was his motive.

There’s no such thing as kindness — or malice — without cause.

“It’s simple. As I said earlier — for the Elf Tribe.” Diderlay’s hand rested on his staff. He answered without hesitation.

“Surely, then, Your Highness understands?”

“...Apologies. Due to certain reasons, I’ve lost all memories prior to entering Coleman Academy,” I said, placing a hand to my forehead. It was time I revealed a bit of my own truth.

Regarding the Gold Elves and the Sacred Tree, it was better to come clean — I knew absolutely nothing.

I truly didn’t. Saying I transmigrated would sound absurd. It was simpler to say I had amnesia.

And I never said it was permanent. Maybe the memories will return one day. Maybe not. That left me some flexibility — the safest approach.

“You... lost your memory?” Diderlay’s eyes flashed with surprise before settling into understanding. “I see. That explains a lot.”

“In that case, may I ask — why wear those earmuffs to disguise your identity?” he continued, shifting his gaze toward my very human-looking ears.

I was silent for a moment, then raised my hand. As I removed the earmuffs — decorated with the sun and moon — the space around me warped slightly, and my pale, pointed ears swayed gently into view.

“I’m not sure. I just felt like I’d be safer this way,” I replied.

“I see...” Diderlay seemed thoughtful.

A Gold Elf’s natural danger sense? Regardless, Coleman was predominantly human. Disguising herself as one of the main races to avoid attention — a smart move.

“May I ask — what is your first memory since waking? If you're willing to share, I may be able to help you recover more.”

“The first memory? …Coleman Forest,” I answered. I wasn’t lying — that was where I became Teresa.

“Coleman Forest, huh...”

“Lord Diderlay — if it’s alright, could you briefly tell me why the Gold Elves, once royal, are no longer recognized?” I asked. Using the amnesia excuse, I wanted to learn more about the Elf Tribe.

“It’s not that they’re unrecognized — it’s that the Moon Elves don’t recognize them,” Diderlay clarified. “You’ve lost your memories, or perhaps you’re a newly born Gold Elf, so you wouldn’t know of the ‘Calamity of the Elves’ from centuries ago.”

“Calamity... of the Elves?” I repeated the unfamiliar phrase. Suddenly, a sharp pain flashed through my head.

“Yes. The ‘Calamity of the Elves’ refers to a catastrophe that occurred over 400 years ago during the Demon Race’s invasion of the continent.”

“Even if you’ve lost your past, the fact that you’re still alive means the Sacred Tree still exists — that’s the best outcome...”

“Your Highness Teresa — do you know where the Forest of the Elves is?”

“The Forest of the Elves? I think... the southeast of the continent?”

“That’s correct. But that’s not the real Forest of the Elves. We Elves didn’t originally live there — we moved there later,” Diderlay explained patiently.

“Our ancestral home, the true Forest of the Elves, lies in the north.”

“The north? But isn’t that the Demon Race’s territory?”

“Yes. The original Forest of the Elves — our ancestral homeland — has been tainted and consumed by the Demon Race.” Diderlay sighed deeply. “It was also where the Sacred Tree that sustained our race once stood. And it, too, has fallen... into demon hands.”

“The Sacred Tree...” My expression shifted slightly. If I remembered correctly, the place where I first met Bilodis was beside an enormous tree — with the palace of the Gold Elves growing like fruit among its branches.

Could that have been the Sacred Tree?

Diderlay didn’t seem like someone who would lie — not about this. So why...

If the Sacred Tree had fallen, then where exactly was Bilodis?

“Over four hundred years ago, a new Demon Emperor appeared among the fractured Demon Race. Her power was overwhelming. She destroyed the once-vast and proud Empire, forcing the imperial capital to move south. The nations of the demihumans were also ravaged.”

“After that, the Empire never recovered. The Whiteglass Kingdom separated from it.”

“During that war, the Emperor personally led the army and the Inquisition into battle — and was utterly defeated. The Emperor was killed. The Inquisition scattered.”

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