"My Lord, we have finally deciphered the language of the Blue Elves. This scroll will allow you to understand their tongue permanently. Our scroll master has already managed to produce ten copies, and she wishes to present the first one to you."
Alya, dressed in a dark-colored servant's uniform, stepped forward as she delivered her report.
Although surprised by how quickly the work had been completed, Areth nodded in approval. Alya then stepped back and opened the door.
Through the massive double doors entered a woman of enormous stature. She had four arms and skin as dark as coal. Beyond her extra limbs, what stood out most were her four eyes and the blue irises within them. Her body was powerfully built, far more reminiscent of a warrior than a scroll artisan.
She was one of the game's side characters. If the player progressed her storyline correctly, she would eventually become the greatest scroll master in the world.
The woman advanced with heavy steps. Each footfall produced a dull echo across the marble floor, while the muscles in her four arms tensed and relaxed unconsciously. She was extremely nervous and excited. The palms of all four hands were damp with sweat, for she had finally been granted the chance to see her lord again.
Her name was Zhara. In addition to being a scroll master, she was once one of the greatest warriors in her homeland.
Yet she despised fighting. She had turned her back on her natural talent and chosen the path of scrollcraft instead. Her obsession with scrolls stemmed from her desire to end wars more quickly and reduce the number of casualties. In her mind, if a scroll powerful enough to reduce cities to ashes were ever created, people would become afraid to fight one another, and wars would eventually cease altogether.
Areth silently observed the woman standing before him.
Her four arms were controlled as though each had been trained in a different discipline. The defined muscle lines running down from her shoulders resembled those of a gladiator rather than a craftsman. But what drew the most attention were her eyes. There was no warrior's ferocity in them. Instead, they reflected a long-suppressed mixture of hope and fear.
Zhara knelt.
The solid sound of her knees striking the marble floor briefly broke the silence of the hall. She lowered her head and closed all four eyes, as though she were standing not merely before a noble, but before a sacred being.
She crossed two of her arms over her chest. With the other two, she carefully extended a wrapped scroll.
"My lord…" she said.
Her voice trembled unexpectedly.
Before reaching for the scroll, Areth continued to examine her.
Zhara lifted her head slightly.
Four blue irises met his gaze directly.
There was no fear in them.
There was admiration.
There was faith.
And there was a dangerously deep, suppressed affection.
"Thank you, Zhara. You have always proven your worth. I want you to produce enough of these scrolls for everyone on the island. That way, we can better understand this new world."
When Areth's words echoed through the hall, Zhara felt as though her heart might stop.
"Thank you, Zhara…"
Those two words carried more weight than all the medals she had earned and all the battles she had won.
Her irises quivered. Her chest rose and fell rapidly without her noticing. Areth's gratitude was more than just praise; it was validation. It was recognition of her existence.
"…You have always proven your worth."
Zhara's lips parted, but no sound came out.
Years of accumulated exhaustion, fear, doubt, and loneliness dissolved with a single sentence.
"I want you to produce enough of these scrolls for everyone on the island…"
At that moment, the world fell silent for her.
The palace.
The pillars.
Alya.
The guards.
Everything faded away.
Only Areth's voice remained.
"…So that we can better understand this new world."
Zhara lowered her head even further.
Her forehead nearly touched the floor.
"Your command… is sacred to me, my lord," she said.
This time, her voice did not tremble.
It was firm.
Deep.
Like an oath.
"If necessary, I will go without sleep for years."
"If necessary, I will write until my hands can no longer move."
"If necessary, I will give my all time..."
She paused.
She forced herself to stop before uttering the final word.
"…I will give everything."
Alya frowned slightly. Lord Areth had merely asked her to replicate some scrolls. Such an exaggerated reaction was unnecessary. It was unprofessional. This scene resembled a believer praying in a temple more than a craftsman reporting to her master.
"Thank you, Zhara. You may leave now. I will visit your estate later so we can speak further," Areth said, gesturing for her to raise her head.
Zhara reflexively looked up.
All four of her eyes focused on him at once.
For a moment, she forgot what she was supposed to do.
Because for the first time, Areth was not looking at her merely as a ruler…
But as a human being.
"I will visit your estate later."
Those words echoed in Zhara's mind.
Again.
And again.-
Her estate…
He would come…
To her…
Her heart began pounding wildly in her chest.
Her breathing became uneven.
As she left the hall, she had to hold back her tears to keep herself from crying with happiness.
After she departed, Alya sighed softly and approached Areth.
"My lord, I have brought the Blue Elves, as you requested. They are waiting to be received."
"Let them in," he replied curtly.
Alya nodded and moved toward the door. At her signal, the heavy doors opened once more.
This time, the newcomers were silent, unlike Zhara.
The female Blue Elf followed fearfully behind the male, while the male walked forward as though he no longer cared what happened. Both looked as though they had barely slept. Spending nearly five days in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by unknown people who were all stronger than them, had worn them down.
Their survival instincts told them to flee, but there was nowhere to run. The male elf, in particular, had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited them.
When they stood before Areth, seated in his massive chair, they believed their time to die had come.
Meanwhile, Areth activated the scroll in his hand. In an instant, a linguistic treasury of thousands of words flooded into his mind. He opened his eyes, now fluent in the Blue Elves' language.
At first, he said nothing.
But his gaze had changed.
The female elf whispered in a trembling voice:
"Please… don't kill us…"
Areth raised his eyebrows slightly.
This was his first true interaction in the Blue Elves' language.
And without realizing it, he replied not in his own tongue…
But in theirs.
"I did not summon you to kill you."
The sentence sent a small shockwave through the hall.
Both elves lifted their heads simultaneously.
Their eyes widened.
For five days, they had been under Selene's supervision, and they could understand her gradually learning their language. They had only been surprised by how quickly she adapted, attributing it to the strange magic in that room.
But now, seeing a man they had met only once speak their language shocked them deeply.
"Y-you…" the male elf said, trembling. "…Do you know our language?"
Areth nodded calmly.
"I do now."