Clearing the Game at the End of the World
Chapter 195: Wizard of Wizards (15)

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[Empire / Hazard Zone / Stormy Hills]

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Danger Level: ★★★★ (Suicidal regardless of player ability.)

Characteristics: A unique structure across all three worlds where only wind mages can "reside" permanently. At least 40 wind mages live here at all times. It is the homeland of wind mages worldwide and the only place where they find stability.

Geopolitically, it refers to the entire Stormy Hills where the winds from the nearby valleys converge, but when people talk about Stormy Hills, they usually mean the building at the peak called ‘Felix Home.'

Location and Entry Method: Southwestern rocky area of the empire. ‘Felix Home' is situated at the highest altitude in the vicinity, making it easy to locate, but it is not recommended to enter through the entrance. This is due to the notoriously ‘very quirky wind mage gatekeeper,' whom one must get permission from. It is easier to kill these mages than to get permission, but the moment one kills them, a horde of mages rushes in and beats one to death like a dog.

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"Wowww…"

It is advisable to seek help from other mages floating near the protruding hill. However, calling out loudly for help may disturb the mages who have just regained their stability here, so a quiet approach should be used. They do not wake up easily, so it is possible to pull them in with a fishing rod.

Note: Atop Stormy Hills is a building called ‘Felix Home,' which looks like a modern art piece. Absolutely, absolutely, absolutely, do not damage this building in any way. This place is the most cherished by the insane wind mages and recognized for its usefulness and importance by the empire, which has declared that anyone who attacks it will be considered an enemy of the empire, regardless of their status.

If one is heavy, it is advisable to ask for a levitation spell before entering, and if one's shoes are made of metal, it is better to take them off.

Again, do not provoke them. Inside, all mages appear warm, diligent, and friendly, but provoking them even accidentally will result in experiencing the extraordinary wrath of the world's most infamous wind mages. Having experienced it, if one ends up merely injured or dead, consider oneself very lucky.

Author: Magic the Gardening

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"Ugh, ugh, ugh-"

"Professor, why have you been like this since earlier? If your stomach hurts, maybe we should stop for a bit…?"

"It's not that. I just… saw something terrible."

From Ottman's expression, one might think ‘what did he eat wrong?' It was clear enough. To others, it might have looked like he was just staring blankly into the air, groaning.

Of course, it was actually my struggle to find a breakthrough in this quest.

Know thyself, know thy enemy.

Despite my reluctance, if I must go, it's best to know about the opponent—this thought had me skimming through documents on Stormy Hills, each word filled with disgust.

How could every page be haunted by grim tales? Knowing the enemy and oneself, there should be no peril. Yet, the more I learn about the enemy, the more my own peril is underscored. The guides merely state that such strategies exist, with no proper records of what happens inside.

One would expect ample documentation for a major imperial facility, but beyond the name, building, and NPC at the entrance, there was nothing deep. This surely indicates a closed and challenging place.

Professor decided to conduct his own investigation upon arriving at the empire. After suffering from a lack of information during the Great Mother's time, this time must be different.

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“And yet, it's surprisingly peaceful. It’s definitely the same forest we entered.”

About an hour after leaving the village.

Considering the onslaught of undead that attacked us the moment we strayed from the path upon our initial entry, our current journey was incomparably smoother.

Just moments ago, rather than being on guard, we were mindlessly moving forward, not stealthily but chatting among ourselves, with Lucilla picking herbs along the roadside, making one wonder if this really was the middle of the Blue Line—a forest path so peaceful.

The ease of our hike was undoubtedly thanks to our new elf companion, Idrasil.

“….Hold on. The two-toothed wolf has moved. I’ll slightly touch the ridge below and proceed.”

Idrasil raised her hand to stop us, and we immediately ceased our activities to silently follow the elf.

The pointed ears poking through the half-elf’s blue hair twitched, and her hand touching the ground read something in tune with her subtle breaths for a few minutes.

“….It’s passed. Let us move on.”

As soon as her permission was given, the group, who had been holding their breaths, exhaled and spoke.

“She is remarkably capable. Our chaotic charge through undead and monsters makes us look foolish, doesn’t it?”

“Wowww… I’ve heard rumors, but the abilities of an elf in the forest are truly… Some trading companies bring along numerous elf slaves when securing high-quality goods in the Blue Line is difficult. But those people, even while working only at the mountain's entrance with elves, have to endure significant damages. Aren’t we too comfortable? Is this the difference between an elf slave and a free elf…. Ah!”

Lucilla inadvertently opened her mouth and then quickly covered it, embarrassed to have brought up elf slaves in front of an elf.

Fortunately, Idrasil seemed not to take offense and answered Lucilla’s query.

“Being an elf does not mean I can easily communicate with all trees. Just as humans feel awkward around people they meet for the first time, the relationship between elves and trees has similar aspects. I, as an elf who has lived in the Blue Line, am familiar with most of the trees here and can heed their warnings. The elves that girl mentioned have been away from the forest for so long that their senses have dulled, making it difficult for them to fully utilize their abilities.”

“Or perhaps, they deliberately didn’t warn of the attacks, hoping to escape in the ensuing human confusion.”

These exiled elves here might be overly friendly towards humans. Typically, elves are known for their arrogance and lack of mercy, pursuing peace but only within their community.

As I pointed this out, Idrasil slightly furrowed her brow and countered.

“I am negative about that opinion. Elves do not dwell in such ‘unpeaceful’ conditions. Even us half-elves, who have a diluted purity, wouldn’t do so, much less a pure elf who has faced hardships….” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ɴovᴇlꜰirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

“Hmm. Miss Idrasil, sorry, but there are countless more severe cases. There was an incident where an elf slave secretly cultivated poison and dumped it in the water jar, resulting in the extermination of an entire family. Also, near the elf forests, it’s not uncommon to find the bodies of woodcutters hung on trees by elves after being murdered for trying to obtain precious wood. These were places where they wouldn't necessarily encounter unless the elves deliberately came out…”

“The Elves of Caneran were expelled because they were seen as impurities in the ‘collective consciousness'. It's only natural that you can't understand them with your common sense. They were filtered out because they couldn't mix, and you grew up among those Caneran Elves."

"If that's really the case… I find it hard to grasp with my understanding. We do not lead such lives, how could…"

Idrasil looked at me with an expression that seemed to say ‘A good elf couldn't possibly do that.' As I observed her innocent demeanor, something dawned on me.

‘…Now I understand why the Great Mother sent Idrasil to us.'

Idrasil is 70 years old, which roughly makes her mental age around 14 when divided by five. She's a second-generation resident of Caneran, not one who drifted into the human world from the first generation but born and raised there. Physically mature but mentally immature, and naively vulnerable to being exploited.

The Great Mother likely saw this as an opportunity to expose this pure and ignorant half-elf to the ‘harsh realities of the world'. Entrusting her to a group of fairly reliable humans could ensure that Idrasil, who might live on to become the next ‘Great Mother', doesn't remain a frog in a well.

‘She might be over three hundred years old, but you can tell by her deeply wrinkled face, fixed since her physical growth ceased at 15, that her life is drawing to a close. Perhaps… she really doesn't have much time left.'

The Great Mother had refused my earnest request to leave the village, and she never disclosed her reasons. If those reasons were of a sort not easily spoken of, and if her last words to Idrasil before saying goodbye were more than just pleasantries…

‘…Damn it.'

"Idrasil."

"Yes?"

"What do you think about the Great Mother, your mother?"

Startled by my sudden question, Idrasil slowed her pace slightly but soon responded nonchalantly.

"I'm not sure what you mean by your question. She holds the same significance any mother would hold for her children."

"…Is that so."

Well, that makes sense. Why would elves be any different from us?

Professor remembered a voice that had echoed in his ears just before leaving the village, a voice that must have used magic.

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[Treat her well.]

‘Gah! What… the Great Mother’s voice?'

[Teach her well, but don't teach her everything to the ‘end.']

‘What does that mean…'

[…Was it half a penny? Never mind if you don’t know. I wish you peace at the end of your journey. It was nice meeting you.]

——

The message ended having said all it wanted to, before I could even grasp its meaning. As I put my finger to my ear, small crushed petals trickled out, likely a seed left secretly during an assault disguised as sparring.

At the time, I thought it was just a simple caution.

"Sigh. Really. It's quite a burden…"

"What is the matter? Was there a problem with my answer?"

"No. It's just, realizing that Great Mother never really spared anyone from tough situations. Idrasil, elves like you who have lived here for a long time can observe the forest through the trees, right?"

"Yes."

"Can we see that too?"

"The trees perceive in a way that's quite different from human vision, but yes, you can."

"Right. That's what I thought…"

Professor glanced around the dense forest and then slowed his brisk pace.

"….Let's go a bit slower then."

"Slowly… do you mean?"

"Yeah. You'll be away from the forest for a while, so you should take in your homeland's scenery."

"If we continue at this pace, we might be able to have lunch tomorrow on a path cleared by humans. I heard we need to finish this mission as soon as possible and return to a place called Roderic—"

"Shhh! There's a reason for everything, just go with it."

"….Yes."

Idrasil hesitated for a moment but then slowed down to walk beside the rest of the group. She couldn't understand why this human man was changing his intentions, but for once his voice carried a depth that was consistently light before. For reasons she couldn't fathom, her steps towards the village felt unusually heavy.

‘….It must be because we are leaving the forest. Probably.'

With that thought, Idrasil raised her head to absorb as much as she could of her beloved homeland's scenery.

Swoosh—

Suddenly, the wind brushing against the leaves touched her long hair.

****

Two days later, Professor and his group finally emerged from the endless maze of trees and greeted a path heavily marked by human activity.

"Halt. Identify yourselves. Foreigners. Make one false move, and we will strike under the Empire's defense law."

Of course, the path was guarded by humans as well.

‘Imperial knights. Certainly, there's a noticeable difference in level compared to the paladins from the Order guarding the other side.'

It was unmistakably apparent even with a cursory glance. This was no ordinary horse; it was a robust and exceptional warhorse, covered in dirt but clearly imbued with a faint magic in its enchanted plate mail.

Even a glimpse at the gleaming broadsword, devoid of any scratches or dust, was enough to confirm it.

‘Both the armor and the gear, including the cape, have been well-maintained with oil, though they show signs of wear from long-term field missions. However, the sword bears no such marks. If it isn't a new sword he's taken up just today… then he's a user of Aura. When using Aura, there's no need to worry about the blade chipping or getting blood or oil on it until you encounter another Aura user.'

At least an Aura user. They say the Empire has as many talents as it has land, and it seems they have surplus enough to station Aura users even at the outermost edges of the ley lines.

Idrasil had already informed us about the person riding ahead, so we deliberately made noise with our group to signal our arrival. Nonetheless, it seems that wasn't enough to lower their guard.

It looked as though he was about to draw his sword any moment, but someone was quicker to act than I was.

Swoosh!

"Blonde hair, green eyes, a sword user with a lion head emblem embedded on his tack. Might you be Sir Demicas of the Vigilen House?"

Lucilla, who had stubbornly insisted on following on foot due to some dispute about the fare and ended up sprawled in the cart before the day was out, had changed from her shabby merchant clothes into a rather neat dress, and her unkempt red hair was now neatly styled. As she elegantly lifted the hem of her skirt slightly from the cart…

Tap, tap, tap!

‘…What?’

‘Ah, really! Human, get a clue!’

She jabbed me in the back with the toe of her leather boot, her gaze sharp. Indeed, jumping out of the cart in such clothes wouldn't look right.

I decided to go along with whatever she had planned.

A young lady of noble descent, and one who knew the names of her own house. A veritable cheat code when dealing with knights.

Proving her effectiveness, as Lucilla took the knight’s offered arm and descended cautiously, smiling, the knight sheathed his sword. The knight, momentarily conflicted, then lifted his visor to reveal a face marked by dismay, and slightly bowed his head.

"Forgive my rudeness. There had been no notice of anyone passing through the ley lines today. If it's not too much of an imposition, might this humble knight have the honor of asking for your name?"

"I am Lucilla Aedran of the Aedran house. Surely, a knight of the Vigilen House wouldn't be unaware of the Aedran name, would he?"

Lucilla, with a delicate touch of her fingers to her lips, smiled at the knight who knelt before her and kissed the back of her hand in response.

"Of course not, Lady Lucilla. Please forgive my ignorance. Life following the blade has left me with a dullness that often overlooks the person behind it. And those behind you are…."

"They are people from our house's trading group."

"Gold Geyser, I see. Understood. We shall escort you from here."

Poke, poke poke!

While the knight bowed respectfully, I felt another jab from behind. Aldrich was pointing at Lucilla with a face full of confusion, as if to say, "What's with her?" I shrugged my shoulders, and then he started poking Ottman and Borka next to him.

‘Poking there won't reveal anything you don’t already know.’

Poke, poke!

Whisper, whisper!

"Hey, hey, kid!"

"….."

Poke!

"Hey, Lucil!"

Poking there won't produce anything.

Refusing the offer to ride behind the knight's horse, Lucilla returned to the cart. In response to my persistent calling, she turned towards me with a mask-like smile.

"Sir Knight. While I appreciate your enjoyment of our chats… I would ask that you refrain, as I am quite tired at the moment."

"Oh, quite."

She smiled softly but with a hint of firmness, the muscle in one eyebrow twitching as if to say, don’t bother me now.

‘…Look at her?’

At the entrance to the mountain range, the corpulent girl who had pretended to be a merchant leader had said taking her would be helpful, and that she had connections with the empire. Clearly, there was quite a bit more she had hidden away.

Apparently, on a somewhat larger scale than I had anticipated.

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