"What do you want to do? How about letting me guess?"
Arthur spoke with interest, pressing his foot a little harder against Think's chest.
What he hadn't expected was that the simple motion made his foot sink directly into her flesh, and Think let out a low, sultry moan.
The atmosphere instantly grew awkward.
Or rather—it wasn't the situation that was awkward. It was Arthur himself who felt awkward, because no matter how he treated this pervert, she would twist it into something indecent. No matter the circumstances, she could act like a harlot. Truly worthy of being called a lewd elf.
After a brief, feigned silence, he spoke sternly.
"Ever since their crushing defeat at the hands of the Flügel, for the past twenty-four years, the Lew—no, the Elves—have been sending signals to other races that they are powerless, that the outcome of the war is nearly decided. They're probably trying to win others over, or perhaps form alliances to counter the strongest faction."
Arthur's smile deepened when he saw Think's expression.
Though she concealed it well, in front of him it was as good as admitting everything.
No matter how calm you pretend to be, no matter how rational you make yourself appear—when the secret in your heart is exposed, you can't suppress the sudden hitch in your breathing.
And as for deliberately controlling even your breathing rhythm? That's only possible in an exam setting, not while under his charm spell. Right now, Think could not possibly maintain perfect rationality.
Which meant all of Arthur's inferences were correct.
"Then there's the [Long-lasting Fourth Protection] we just saw. It withstood [Air Strike], a technique rivaling [Marrow Explosion]. That's no trivial matter... Do you really think that's just coincidence?"
Arthur didn't continue, but the implication was clear.
The strongest camp in this war was the God of War's faction.
One Old Deus. One Phantasma. And the Flügels, ranked sixth. Such a simple composition—yet it had become the most powerful force.
Every race knew it. And every race knew: if the war followed its natural course, the one left standing would almost certainly be the God of War.
Which meant that for all others, inaction meant extinction. In such a situation, the wolf among lambs loomed too large. All it would take was a leader among the lambs to raise a banner, and the rest—even reluctantly—would rally together, attack the wolf, and tear it down in the name of survival.
Right now, the God of War's faction was the wolf.
Given this general picture, let's focus on the Elves—one of the lambs—and their possible next move.
Remove the unknowns for now—such as the cause of the war itself. What is known is simple: only one race can win in the end.
And once the wolf falls, the lambs won't be at peace. They'll turn on each other all the more fiercely, each chasing the right to be sole victor.
Now, add two more pieces of information.
A super-scale technique, said to rival [Marrow Explosion], possibly strong enough to kill an Old Deus. And the [Fourth Protection of Longevity], capable of withstanding [Air Strike]—and, given Think Nirvalen's personality, likely able to resist even super-scale weapons.
Together, that meant the Elves held both the ultimate spear and the unbreakable shield.
So, when the combined armies of all races inevitably band together against the God of War's camp, what would the Elves do?
The answer was not speculation. It was inevitability.
Shield themselves with an unbreakable barrier. Launch their strongest weapon at everyone else. Destroy every race in one strike, and claim the world as sole victors.
If the goal was simply to win, Arthur himself would have chosen the same strategy.
"Now tell me—do you really believe your own excuse? That these are all coincidences, and the Elves are harmless weaklings?" Arthur asked with a smile.
"Perhaps it is just coincidence." Think answered with a warm, gentle smile like sunlight. "The Elves don't have god-slaying weapons. The [Fourth Protection of Longevity] was developed only because the crushing defeat twenty-four years ago scarred us so deeply. It was meant to protect, not to kill."
"I see. What a pity." Arthur arched a brow, his tone turning sharp.
"Because no other race would believe such a flimsy explanation. Even if what you say is true, the Dwarfs have already built their strongest spear. And while you and they are enemies on the surface, who's to say you aren't allies in secret? That possibility alone is enough to set the other races into a panic."
In other words: their supposed strategy was already doomed.
Arthur would simply spread this information. Once he did, both Elves and Dwarfs would be branded wolves.
And if they were enemies? What did that matter? Driven by absolute survival, would "mortal enemies" still matter?
If they wanted to prove innocence, that was fine too. They'd only have to escalate their war with the Dwarfs until both sides bled each other dry, stripped of trump cards and barely able to defend themselves. Only then might others believe them harmless.
But of course, once Arthur spoke, the Elves and Dwarfs would be trapped in a desperate cycle leading to destruction.
And the truth? Who would care?
What mattered was perception. And with such a chance to divert hatred, even Ares's faction would intervene. Only a fool would ignore a gift like that.
After several seconds of silence, Think finally understood—and her smile turned bitter.
What sin had the forest Elves committed, to deserve crossing paths with this man?
"In other words, the fate of the Elves is in your hands. Whether it's me, the Flower Crown Lord, or even the Forest God himself, none of us can change that. All we can do is pray for mercy." She gave a faint smile. "So tell me—what price must we pay to survive?"
Forced to abandon everything, she had no choice but to compromise. With Arthur here, defeat was inevitable.
"Don't be so dramatic. I'm the Elves' benefactor. And tell me—what makes you so sure the other factions are just a mob to be wiped out? Even god-killing weapons are only theory. Who knows how they'll work in practice? And with the Flügels and the Dwarfs already in balance, your plan would fail even without me. In the end, the only outcome would be betrayal."
He laughed softly. "That's why I said the Elves are arrogant."
"Ah, how annoying. You've infuriated me completely, yet… I can't even be angry. You're just too cunning." Think stared up at Arthur's face. "If the conditions won't change, then fine—I'll submit to you on behalf of all Elves. If possible, I'd even like to receive a reward. Do you want me to show my sincerity?"
Still pinned beneath his boot, the elf girl shifted the scant fabric covering her body and exposed a little more skin.
Tsk. This pervert—she actually wanted him to take advantage of her.
-End Chapter-
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