She would never forget the day her father lay pale in bed. His eyes were nearly lifeless, his breathing irregular. It seemed he had been poisoned by the rotten part of the World Tree. Because the poison came from the World Tree itself, it affected elves even more severely. Another problem was that no one knew when it had happened. It could have been an infiltrator or a traitor who had joined the corrupted elves.
"He can still survive as long as Lord Malik finds the Dawn Flower."
That flower was considered one of the greatest cures in the Elven Dimension. If eaten, it could restore a poisoned body—even if the poison came from the World Tree itself. The only thing she could do was wait for her uncle to find that flower as soon as possible. At most, they only had until dusk.
"Father, please be okay… You like the garden I've been making, right? I've been taking care of a flower, and I can give it to you, so… please…"
She tried not to cry, but she couldn't. Tears streamed down her face without stopping. Noticing that, her father placed his hand on her head. He wanted to say many things to her, but he felt his voice growing weaker. Looking at his wife, he decided to leave it to her in case he truly died.
"My dear, I would like to ask you something."
"You can ask for anything. I promise I'll do my best to fulfill it."
"Please don't stay trapped in the past… The only thing I ask is that you don't go after the one who did this to me, because I want you to be happy. Leave it in your mother's hands."
Her mother's face was neutral, but she seemed to agree. Without a doubt, she would go after the one who had poisoned him. The two of them did not want her to become someone obsessed with vengeance. They wanted to protect her from that path.
"Leave this to the adults."
She nodded, tears still falling from her eyes. Her father turned to her older sister, who was sitting silently behind her. Just as he had done with her, he repeated the same words.
"I promise, Father, I won't seek revenge."
There were tear marks on her face as well. Her expression was almost desolate, trying to remain strong in that room. It felt like a farewell, even though there was still a chance he might survive.
Hour after hour, Elaris grew more tense, more tears falling from her face. It was agonizing to wait so long without knowing whether her uncle would succeed. To be honest, she was beginning to blame him for taking so long. He was considered the second-strongest circle nine in the Elven Dimension, only behind her father—so why was he taking so long?
"Daughters, please remember what I asked."
He survived even two hours past the time a strong elf should have died. He truly had been the strongest living elf—a title that would now fall into another elf's hands, which made Elaris feel even worse than she already did, even if that title had passed to her uncle.
'Why did he take so long?'
She cried, hugging her father's now lifeless body, while her mother sat beside her, hair covering her face. With him gone, her mother would command the kingdom for some time, and judging by the fury burning in her eyes, she would certainly discover who had done this. Her mother embraced her that entire night, staying by her side for hours until she fell asleep. As she was carried to her room, she saw her sister standing in front of their father's bed, unmoving, determined to remain there a little longer.
'Sister… I promise I'll find who did this.'
In front of his body, once both had left, Elithia let out a sigh as she placed her hand on her cheek. The traces of tears had vanished, replaced by something more thoughtful. Looking to the side, she saw her uncle sitting by the window, staring outside. He had a certain sadness over his brother's death, but also a silent determination.
"As promised, I destroyed the Dawn Flower… now we will make the elves reach the maximum power we deserve."
"But of course, Uncle. There's just one problem—I'm not queen yet…"
That was right. The one who would command the kingdom now was her mother. If she discovered that it had been Elithia who poisoned her father, she would never be forgiven. Elithia might even lose her head to the fury everyone would direct at her. So there was only one thing she could do.
"Uncle, I would feel very bad if my mother found out everything… you know what to do, right?"
"…Right."
As Malik disappeared, Elithia left the room, her face immediately turning sad again. She told them to take good care of her father's body and begin preparing the funeral. Descending the stairs, she headed toward the garden without much reaction at seeing so many elves running to prepare the king's burial. She truly wanted to become queen soon so she could do whatever she wanted and eliminate the elders who had tried to take the title that belonged only to her.
'I had no other choice, Father. You would have lived for a long time. Maybe I would only become queen in a hundred years, and honestly, I'm not like the other elves who can wait.'
Opening the door in front of her, she stepped out of the castle, which somehow seemed to be growing darker in tone. Elithia did not seem like a true elf. Everything elves normally did irritated her. Why wait if you can have it now? Why train calmly for years if you could grow stronger by using the rotten part of the World Tree? They were so irrational that she simply wanted the title as soon as possible to show them they should stand above every other race.
'We are the race closest to mana, so why should we fall behind humans?'
She couldn't understand how humans could advance in circles in far less time. Of all races, the one she felt the most dissatisfaction toward was humans—growing in absurd abilities compared to elves. While the elves had four circle nines with decades behind them despite their youthful appearances, humans had seven, even though they were younger. And to make matters worse, she knew an alliance had been formed with vampires across continents. If they wished, they could eliminate the elves easily.
'They even have more humans at circle eight and seven than we do.'
If she had to choose a superior race in terms of power, it would be among three: humans, demons, and dragons. Those three had always been at the top of the world, each having their strongest figure in history in their respective eras.
With a neutral face, she approached the center of the garden where the flower her sister might have given their father if he had survived was blooming. She knelt in front of it but did not pick it. At least, not yet. She could not hold it until her sister stopped being useful.
"It's a good thing you died, Father… you almost kept what should have been mine."