"I see. So this is your ability, huh? Truly human, yet possessing a charisma that shouldn't belong to humans. Yes, I can say this with absolute certainty—I'm in love with you now, and I'd do anything for you."
The elf girl wore a twisted smile.
"What a face you have—irresistible! I like you more and more. I swear, in the name of Think Nirvalen, that I love you."
Without a doubt, that was love.
At least for Think, it was an overwhelming emotion indistinguishable from love.
And it wasn't just Think.
Even Nina, who had been hiding her identity, dispelled her magic without hesitation. With unprecedented force, she snapped at the senior she had always respected.
"But what we should be considering more right now is how to preserve this face. As far as I know, the human lifespan is usually only a few decades. The more beautiful a face is, the more tragic it is when it disappears with age. What a pity—that someone with such divine charm is still just human. But if you say so, I'm sure we can find a way."
Both Think and Nina had been struck without resistance.
Yet instead of cowering before Arthur's majesty, they simply fell in love with him—and with that love came an extreme possessiveness.
No, not just possessiveness. Obsession.
'Us?'
Arthur caught the slip. He had heard something distinctly unpleasant.
Think shot Nina a cold glance. Her junior no longer looked cute in the slightest.
In an instant, the Eightfold Ritual flared to life. Nina was bound with overwhelming force and hurled out of the space, leaving only Arthur and Think behind.
"Good. The nuisance is gone. Now it's just you and me, my cute little monkey. I believe you now—you really are human. But unfortunately for you, you shouldn't have shown me this face. Doesn't this make me want to imprison you, to keep you as my private collection forever?"
Think crossed her legs, rubbing them together, a mysterious blush blooming across her cheeks.
"Ah… right. Sometimes you do run into perverts like this." Arthur's expression froze.
The carriage had flipped. Completely overturned.
He had never once imagined that his plan would collapse so badly.
Come to think of it, despite their opposite genders and temperaments, didn't this elf give him the same feeling as a Roman emperor?
Illusion? Perhaps not.
"So, what do you intend to do, Think Nirvalen? You don't even bother with disguises anymore." Arthur's tone was dry.
Until now, she had always maintained Nina's identity, even under direct scrutiny in earlier negotiations.
But now—
"Since you've already seen through me, what's the point of pretending further?" Think cupped her flushed cheeks with both hands. "As for what I'll do—why, I'll keep you captive and train you to play for me alone. Or perhaps… shall we try for a child now? Hybrids are impossible, but I've analyzed the Seirenes before. There are… other methods of reproduction."
Seirenes?
Arthur's mind flicked to the fragments of intelligence he had. The Seirenes: all female, absurdly foolish, dependent on males of other races to reproduce. Their method was infamous—bestowing celestial pleasure.
Yes—ascension. Literally ascension.
But that "pleasure" came at a cost: draining the partner dry. Not just physically, but soul and spirit alike. The body and essence wrung out completely. Was this their idea of childbirth? The thought was horrifying.
"I refuse."
Arthur shook his head so fast it was practically rattling.
This lecher was not only a nymphomaniac but also a yandere. Her words grew more dangerous with each breath.
Others had coveted his body before, but this was the first time he faced someone so brazen, so utterly shameless. Disgust boiled in his chest.
But raise him?
Only someone with absolute contempt for humanity, someone who saw them as weak and pitiable, could speak with such arrogance.
Then the solution was simple. He just needed to prove who was the weak one and who was the master.
Very well.
Arthur decided to try raw, overwhelming violence—to turn the tables by force and see how effective "anti-training" could be.
And if it failed? Then so be it. The lewd elves would face extinction.
Hold on, Miss Slut—you carry the fate of your entire race on your shoulders!
Arthur silently cheered for his opponent in mockery, and in the next instant, starlight burst forth.
A dazzling fantasy flared in his hands. With a single stroke, he sliced apart the giant water lily that had ensnared him.
Think's eyes widened. Yet she wasn't truly surprised. After all, this man had dared to enter elven territory alone, issuing such brazen provocations. No amount of charm could account for that.
Which meant strength.
Because Think was a nymphomaniac herself, she understood this truth instinctively: in an age like this, someone with Arthur's extraordinary charm could not exist without matching power.
Charm was not just a gift. It was a curse. A value marked on one's very existence. To possess such beauty was to court disaster—whether sold out by one's tribe or claimed by stronger races. Such a being could not survive without strength.
So, even though Arthur had just cleaved apart a divine-protection technique—one layered with elven magic theory and bolstered by the Forest God's blessing—she found it unsurprising. In fact, it only confirmed what she already knew.
From the start, she had never believed Arthur to be a mere human.
If this were a normal situation, she would have calmed herself, tried to appease him, and maneuvered toward the negotiation table.
Yes—if this were normal.
But it wasn't.
Think's mind was clouded, her obsession twisting her judgment, even as she prepared for the next exchange.
And then—her thoughts froze.
The golden light that had torn apart the [First Protection] had not weakened in the slightest. It surged straight for her, fierce and unrelenting.
In that instant, Think recalled the fear of twenty-four years ago, when a single Flügel's [Sky Strike] had dominated the battlefield.
Yes—this dense spiritual energy rivaled that strike, perhaps even surpassed it. If it landed, not only would she, the Flower Crown Lord, be obliterated, but the entire new elven capital would vanish—reduced to ashes, just as the old one had been.
The only difference was that, back then, the elves had at least evacuated resources and personnel in advance. This time, there would be nothing left. No foundation. No chance of recovery.
"Sword of Promised Victory—Excalibur!"
Before she could think, golden radiance swallowed her vision.
Instinctively, Think invoked her newly developed spirit-destruction technique.
"——[Everlasting Fourth Protection]!"
In an instant, the spell that theoretically rivaled even [Sky Strike]—the so-called absolute shield—flared to life.
And then, torrents of golden light collided.
-End Chapter-
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