The reception continued without incident. Word of Shion taming the sons of Dagruel had already spread like wildfire. The powerful Gozu and Mezu tribes, once bold and defiant, now trembled at my presence. No other race dared show insolence. For once, I allowed myself to hope this composure would last until the ceremony concluded.
Before me now stood the elder of the Elven Tribe. Though his appearance was youthful—seemingly in the prime of his life—there was a certain weight to his presence. His attendants followed closely behind, all male. It was a pity; the elven women were said to be breathtakingly beautiful, their elegance unmatched in Eterna.
I observed the elves closely. Their lifespan was extraordinary. Born from materialized spirits—or perhaps fallen spirits—they had evolved into fairies that gained corporeal form. These beings were the progenitors of both elves and dwarves. Even goblins were distant descendants of the ancient fairy line.
Those tied to the Earth element became dwarves.
Water element bore mermaids.
Fire element birthed goblins.
Wind element gave rise to elves.
It was fascinating, the way elemental affinity shaped lineage. Goblins, with the thinnest bloodline, lived shortest lives—around a century. Their evolved form, the ogre, shared a similar span. Kijin awakened the power of their spirit ancestors, gaining extraordinary abilities such as psychic control over their environment.
Elves, on the other hand, were virtually immortal by comparison. A lifespan of five to eight hundred years was common. Half-elves could live nearly three centuries. Once they reached adulthood—around twenty years—they ceased aging, maintaining youth for centuries. Only near the end of their natural life would aging accelerate, a stark reminder of mortality.
This longevity bred low fertility. Few elves wished to continue their bloodline, and their population remained sparse. The information came from the ladies at the Dwarven Kingdom Night Shop, Night Butterfly, though its accuracy was uncertain.
Fairies existed too, as a distinct species.
Common, mischievous, and small—like Ramiris—they evolved from lesser spirits influenced by magicules. While intelligent, they lacked the longevity and advanced powers of true materialized spirits. Many mistook Ramiris for such fairies, but in reality, she descended from a high-ranked Spirit Queen, far surpassing elves, dwarves, or their ancestors. Even questioning her reincarnations would yield no clear answer.
A tangential observation, but informative nonetheless.
The elven elder stepped forward with formal grace.
Elven Elder: "We are honored to be received by Your Majesty. We come not only to offer our congratulations but to express our gratitude for your benevolence."
Typically, a race would first pledge allegiance, then extend gratitude for security and comfort provided. These elves, however, had never met me before. Their praise felt oddly premature, prompting me to gesture to Rigurd to inquire further.
Rigurd (quietly): "It seems, my lord, it relates to the recent incidents with the Gozu and Mezu tribes…"
I inclined my head slightly, signaling him to continue.
The elder spoke again:
Elven Elder: "Our tribe has been caught between the Gozu and Mezu for over a century. The forest, our source of life, suffered gravely. Trees were felled, the Barrier meant to conceal us shattered, and our homes exposed."
They had relocated swiftly, but the escalation of war threatened their very existence.
Atem (voice calm, authoritative): "I understand. The expansion of conflict endangers those caught in the middle. Your concerns are noted. Eterna shall provide protection."
The elder's eyes widened slightly, surprise mingled with relief. Even centuries of elven wisdom could not fully predict the authority radiating from a Pharaoh such as myself.
The elves had endured decades of struggle in silence. Now, under my gaze, their plight was recognized, and their loyalty could begin to form—not out of fear alone, but out of respect for the strength and order I embodied.
My mind, however, remained alert. The Gozu and Mezu had been taught a lesson, but others observing this exchange might test their boundaries. I would ensure that Eterna's reputation as a dominion under a sovereign Pharaoh remained unchallenged—no one would dare underestimate me.
This, I thought, was how authority should manifest: measured, decisive, absolute.
The elder bowed once more, deeply, before retreating slightly to await my judgment. I, in turn, allowed a subtle nod. No further words were necessary; the message had been received.
The ongoing war had driven the animals and monsters from the Jura Great Forest, leaving the land barren. Edible vegetables and fruits could no longer be cultivated, and many elves had been forced to leave, seeking employment in places like the Dwarven Kingdom. Now it made sense why the elven ladies working at Night Butterfly had left their homes—they had come to survive in foreign lands.
With the elven population dwindling further, their current residence had become increasingly unsustainable. They were forced to plan another relocation, though finding a safe and suitable place within the massive expanse of Jura Great Forest was no easy task.
Elven Elder: "That is why we hoped to report this matter to Your Majesty, so that you might take measures against these thugs. But before we could formally request assistance, your Majesty had already passed judgment. Now, all that remains is to find a new home for our people."
His words sparked an idea within me. A new home? Indeed, I had just the place.
The elven population numbered no more than three hundred—a small number, considering their past. Long ago, they had built a prosperous kingdom, but time and conflict had reduced them to scattered nomads. Three hundred people could easily fit into a safe and controlled environment I had prepared.
Level 95 of the labyrinth had recently been transformed into a mini-forest—a perfect new home for the elves. I could assign them tasks to assist Apito in beekeeping and cultivating rare plants that thrived in high-magicule forests. They could also help manage planned inns or weapon shops. And if monsters appeared on Level 95, elves would make excellent guardians. Their natural affinity with treants would make coordination with Treyni-san seamless.
This arrangement also offered the opportunity to recall elves who had left the labyrinth and scattered across the world. Perhaps even those working abroad, like the ladies at Night Butterfly, might return. A vision for an exclusive Elf Club began to take shape.
Even our town's bars and restaurants could be adapted to accommodate adventurers. Yet, when I wanted a moment of peace, I could retreat to the executives' restaurant. Though I could summon Shuna to prepare drinks in private, I did not crave alcohol; I craved respite. A moment of calm to observe, plan, and weigh matters.
Atem (authoritative, yet calm): "Chief, I have a location suitable for your relocation."
Rigurd stepped back, as expected, listening attentively. Regardless of the circumstances, he always handled situations with flawless precision—a model of reliability.
Elven Elder: "O-Ohoh! Is that true, Your Majesty?"
Atem: "Yes. With just three hundred of you, all your tribesmen can be accommodated safely."
Elven Elder: "Thank you! I shall return immediately to gather our people to meet you."
Atem: "Good. Before your arrival, I will ensure the living conditions are adjusted to your needs. But I have one request of you: are you prepared to contribute to our endeavors?"
Elven Elder: "There is no issue. If we can serve Your Majesty, it shall be our greatest honor."
The elder's relief and joy were palpable. The burden of finding a safe home had been lifted from his shoulders. He immediately dispatched men to prepare the tribesmen for the move.
This solution, though simple, was effective. Yet, the elder voiced a concern: many elves who had gone abroad had not returned. He also noted that the elven race, being highly united, would rarely abandon their home without reason. Some elves had not returned even after hunting monsters—an issue that caused him deep worry.
I considered this carefully. Perhaps it was tied to the elves' natural inclination toward individualism. Their sudden departures might simply be a matter of personal choice. The memory of Myourmiles's shop came to mind. I recalled a conversation with Viscount Kazak of the Kingdom of Blumund, who had once approached Myourmiles regarding a store that planned to employ elven labor.
Atem (thinking, quietly, but firmly): "I will ensure no elf is treated as mere property under my watch. Eterna provides sanctuary, and here, every member of your people will be protected and valued."
The elder's expression softened. Relief, trust, and respect gleamed in his eyes. For the first time in decades, these elves could envision a future unshackled from fear of war, famine, or exploitation.
With this arrangement, the labyrinth of Level 95 would become not only a refuge but a hub of activity, education, and defense—a perfect blend of safety and opportunity. Under my authority, they would thrive, contribute, and become part of a community strengthened by both wisdom and power.
This was the nature of leadership. A sovereign did not merely command; he provided purpose, security, and opportunity—while always asserting his presence as the unchallenged Pharaoh of Eterna.
Some elven youths hadn't returned for a long time. The pattern felt wrong—too many disappearances, too coincidental. My mind traced the thread back to Viscount Kazak of Blumund and whispers about elven slaves. Worse, it smelled like the work of an organized criminal syndicate. If that guess was true… the problem would be ugly.
I hoped I was overthinking it. Still, the risk was too high to ignore. I could indulge in fantasies about an exclusive Elf Club later; for now I had to find out what happened.
The elven elder thanked me and prepared to leave. I watched him go, folding the problem over in my head, then reached out through Thought Communication.
‹Souei, investigate Viscount Kazak of the Kingdom of Blumund. Look into any criminal rings dealing in elven slaves. Use cover and be thorough.›
‹Understood, Lord Atem.›
Souei's answer was crisp. He didn't hesitate—he sent his clones scattering like black knives into the city and beyond, each one a silent hunter. Their departure left a silence that felt right. Efficient. Clean.
That should bring back leads before the reception ended. If Souei turned up anything, I would find Myourmiles and compare notes—he had ears everywhere and often heard more than he let on. If the criminal organization tied to Viscount Kazak was indeed behind the disappearances, they wouldn't escape unpunished. I didn't tolerate people who trafficked in lives.
And my business plan—my dream to found the Elf Club, to build a place where elves could return, work, and prosper under my protection—wasn't just a vanity project. It was personal. I would open that club, and whoever tried to stand in the way of my people would learn what it meant to cross Eterna and Pharaoh Atem.
I watched the elven elder's party vanish into the crowd, then turned back to the hall. The reception continued, the town buzzing with a fragile joy. Inside me, the pulse of a different rhythm steadied—calm, precise, and ready.
I had a plan. I would uncover the truth. And if the truth proved as foul as I suspected, I would make sure those responsible paid with everything they valued.
Decision made, I set the investigation in motion.