"Judging by the private meeting His Majesty granted that human, it seems he intends to join hands with him."
A voice filled with discontent echoed through the wooden council chamber. Dozens of elves, seated around the long table, wore expressions of unease and frustration. Their leader, Grand Duke Ehrag, sat at the head of the table, his silver hair gleaming faintly beneath the soft glow of luminescent moss.
"Why a human?" one elder muttered bitterly. "Has the Emperor forgotten the wounds of the past?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room. They had gathered under Ehrag's authority to voice their dissent—yet even their shared anger could not disguise the fear lacing their words.
"Your Grace," one elf finally asked, "is there truly nothing we can do?"
Ehrag met their anxious gazes, his crimson eyes firm with conviction.
"Do not worry," he said solemnly. "No matter what happens, I will stop it."
His voice carried the weight of a vow. It was a promise to his son, Bührag, who had fallen long ago—to never again make the same mistake, to never again lose family to another senseless alliance.
"Our people will not lose loved ones again," Ehrag declared. "Not family, not friends, not comrades."
Though his words were resolute, unease still lingered among the gathered elves.
"His Majesty is too stubborn," one sighed. "Once he decides, no one can sway him."
The truth of those words was undeniable. Emperor Wihgrat was not merely a ruler—he was chosen by the World Tree itself. His will carried divine weight. Many elves still revered him without question. Even if Ehrag opposed him, even if half of Rusotu did, the Emperor's command would prevail.
"Breaking His Majesty's will won't be easy," someone muttered.
Ehrag's eyes narrowed. The Emperor's recent behavior had indeed changed—his calm wisdom replaced by an almost desperate urgency, as though chased by invisible shadows.
It wasn't hard to guess why.
'He must have seen something,' Ehrag thought grimly. 'A future he cannot accept.'
Though Wihgrat had said nothing outright, Ehrag could imagine what sort of vision it was—a great calamity that threatened the elves and the world of Rusotu itself.
But Ehrag refused to believe it.
"Even if he saw some dark future, our race is not so weak as to crumble overnight," he said aloud, half to reassure the others, half himself. "Destruction does not come without warning. We are strong, and our peace will endure."
He straightened in his seat, confidence radiating from him. "This anxiety of His Majesty's is nothing more than needless worry. As for the humans—if we make them leave quietly, the threat will pass."
"Easier said than done," someone replied. "Neither the Emperor nor that so-called Demon Emperor will give up easily."
Ehrag's lips curved into a faint smile. "Then we make the human leave of his own accord."
The others blinked in surprise. "You have a plan?"
Direct confrontation was impossible—Emperor Wihgrat would surely protect the human. Trickery would be useless, too; from what they'd seen, this Lee Seong-jun wasn't easily deceived.
Even so, Ehrag's expression grew confident, his sharp features lit with cunning.
"Humans," he said, "are fond of wagers, contracts, and deals. And that one, in particular—the so-called Demon Emperor—is consumed by ambition. I will use that greed against him."
The elves leaned in as he continued.
"I'll challenge him through a sacred contract—a trial."
At the word, murmurs spread through the room. The Trial of the World Tree was a divine ordeal—one that only those acknowledged by the Tree could attempt. It was said that no elf had ever succeeded in clearing it completely.
"If he accepts," Ehrag said, his voice low but confident, "the terms will be simple. Should the Demon Emperor overcome every trial, we will concede and follow his will. But if he fails, he must swear upon the Tree to leave Rusotu forever."
The elves exchanged looks of surprise, then broke into murmurs of approval.
"A brilliant idea."
"As expected of the Grand Duke!"
"There's no way a human could pass the World Tree's trials."
Ehrag's eyes gleamed. 'Even one who twists the fate of entire worlds cannot defy the Tree itself.'
The outcome, he believed, was already decided.
"Very well," Ehrag said, rising from his seat. "I shall propose the contract to the Demon Emperor myself."
Elsewhere, within the palace's guest manor, Lee Seong-jun and Anna sat facing each other over a simple table. The conversation with Emperor Wihgrat had ended not long ago, but its weight still lingered in the air.
"You're planning to help the elves, aren't you?" Anna asked softly.
Her voice carried a knowing tone—she didn't need to guess. Their souls were linked by contract; emotions passed between them like ripples in water.
Seong-jun smiled faintly. "Yeah. I can't ignore it."
When he had altered time itself, it hadn't just affected Earth. Every dimension connected to it had been touched, twisted by that act. Somewhere deep down, he felt responsible for whatever fate now loomed over Rusotu.
"If Lusotu falls," he murmured, "Earth will be affected too. Our worlds are connected. Their destruction could spread to us."
Anna tilted her head slightly. "So it's both duty and self-interest."
"Pretty much," he admitted.
He didn't want to see another world burn if he could help it—especially not one whose people had done nothing wrong.
"If you'd rather not get involved," he said gently, "you can return to Earth. There's no reason for you to be dragged into this."
Anna blinked, then smiled, her expression tinged with sadness. "How cruel. Are you trying to send me away already?"
Her smile deepened, soft and warm. "Your will is my will. Wherever you go, I'll be there."
"…Thank you."
"Then prove it with actions, not words."
He chuckled. "I'll make sure to repay you properly."
"You'd better. I'll be expecting something good."
The mood lightened for a moment, but Anna soon grew serious again. "So… what will you do about the others? The elves who oppose you?"
"That's the problem," Seong-jun said. "Convincing them won't be easy."
If he told them about the impending destruction, they might listen—or it might only deepen their distrust, driving them further away.
"The elves have allies besides Earth," he continued. "Other races—dwarves, beastkin, and more. If they think this crisis started with us, we'll lose everything."
Anna nodded thoughtfully. "So violence is off the table."
"Exactly. I need allies, not subordinates. Force would only breed resentment."
He sighed, rubbing his chin. "For now, I'll wait for a chance to—"
Knock. Knock.
"Your Majesty," a voice called through the door, "Grand Duke Ehrag wishes to see you."
Seong-jun exchanged a glance with Anna. At her slight nod, he replied, "Let him in."
The door opened, and Ehrag entered with composed grace. His movements were polite, but his sharp gaze betrayed his disdain.
"First, allow me to apologize," Ehrag said smoothly. "My behavior at the luncheon was unbecoming. I let my emotions get the better of me. Please forgive my rudeness."
Seong-jun's expression didn't change. "Spare me the formalities. Tell me what you came for."
Ehrag's lips curved faintly. "A proposal. Since neither side will back down, I suggest we resolve this through a contract—a wager, if you will. A trial to decide our future."
Seong-jun tilted his head. "A bet?"
Ehrag's confident smile widened as he began to explain.
Not long after, the news reached Emperor Wihgrat.
"So," the Emperor said grimly, "he made a contract with Ehrag… and went to face the trials himself?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," reported Sharua, her tone urgent. "The message came from one of our knights within the palace."
The Emperor's expression hardened. His hands clenched upon the armrest of his throne.
"Ehrag…" he muttered darkly. "I told you not to cross that line."
The World Tree's light outside the window shimmered faintly—an omen, perhaps, of the trial that had already begun.