Alaric's chest still heaved, each breath raw with fire. Blood streaked his torn sleeve, sticky and warm, but the wolf lay silent in the grass, its body heavy and broken. He pressed his palm to his wound, hissing at the sting, yet in his heart he felt the rare spark of triumph.
The young elf boy crept closer, eyes wide. He stopped a step away, fists balled tight. His lips trembled, but his voice carried a stubborn steadiness.
"Big brother… Are you okay?"
Alaric's tired eyes flicked toward him. Of all the things he expected, that wasn't it.
He chuckled bitterly, nudging the wolf's corpse with his boot. "Do you think something like this could take me down? It'll take more than a stupid wolf to end me."
The boy blinked, awe and relief warring across his face. His little sister peeked timidly from behind his arm, her eyes red from crying.
Before Alaric could say more, the undergrowth trembled. Leaves parted. The glint of steel flashed in the dim light.
Figures emerged—eight of them, tall and sharp-eyed, their movements silent as shadows. Bows drawn. Spears ready.
Elves.
The air tightened. In an instant, every arrow was trained on his chest.
Alaric didn't move. He had no strength left to fight, even if he wanted to. He met their gazes with the calm of someone who had nothing to lose.
But the boy leapt in front of him, arms outstretched.
"Father! Don't hurt him!" His voice cracked with urgency. "He saved us!"
The leader of the group froze. His gaze lingered on the boy, then shifted to Alaric—this bloodied human, standing tall beside the wolf he had slain.
The elf's eyes narrowed. He raised his hand. With a sharp gesture, the bows lowered.
"Agis…" the man said, his tone carrying both authority and restrained relief. "Don't worry. Your savior will not be harmed."
Alaric studied him. The man's words were courteous, but his posture was taut, his stare edged with suspicion. A faint smile touched his lips, but it never reached his eyes.
So even here, Alaric thought, prejudice clings like a shadow.
He exhaled slowly and straightened, ignoring the pain that screamed in his body. The elves flinched at the motion, hands twitching toward their weapons, but Alaric paid them no mind. He crouched, pulled his dagger free from the wolf's skull, and wiped the blade clean on the grass.
Then he turned to Agis.
"This wolf's body is my gift to you, boy. If fate wills it, we'll meet again. My name is Alaric."
With that, he sheathed the dagger and turned away, dragging his battered body step by step. He didn't spare the elves a second glance.
Murmurs rippled through their ranks. A human who demanded nothing? Who saved their children and left behind a wolf's corpse worth a small fortune in furs and fangs?
The leader's voice cut through the silence.
"Why did you help them?"
Alaric halted mid-step. Slowly, he turned his head. His face was calm, his tone steady.
"Why wouldn't I? A child in danger deserves saving. That's all."
"But… they're elves," a woman blurted, her disbelief sharp.
Alaric's gaze swept across them, unwavering. "So what? Whether human, elf, or anything else—it doesn't matter. I've always lived by one idiom: protect the young, respect the old."
The words carried weight, spoken with a conviction that silenced even the hardened warriors. For a moment, they stared at him not with suspicion, but with something closer to respect.
[Ding! Congratulations, host. You are the first lord to earn the respect of elves.]
[Reward: Golden Talisman.]
The sudden notification rang in Alaric's mind. He blinked, startled. I just said that to sound impressive… but it actually triggered a reward?
He glanced down. In his inventory, a golden charm shimmered faintly, pulsing with quiet power.
The elf leader's stern expression softened. He stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. "Please—allow us to invite you to our settlement. You are wounded, and we owe you proper gratitude."
Agis tugged at Alaric's sleeve eagerly. "Big brother, come with us! Let us treat you!"
Alaric hesitated. To walk into their home would be to place his life entirely in their hands. A foolish gamble, for a stranger. Yet his body trembled, his vision swam. He wasn't sure he could walk much farther on his own.
Then the talisman pulsed again.
An idea sparked. He raised it, willing it to activate.
Light shimmered before the trees, bending and twisting until a figure stepped forth: a man in plain armor, tall as a tower, a longsword at his waist. His shoulders were broad as a fortress wall, his presence heavy and raw.
The elves stiffened. Instinct drove them to raise their weapons once more. But the man's sharp eyes locked on Alaric's wounds—and fury ignited in his aura like a storm unleashed.
"MY LORD!" he roared, his voice booming like thunder.
In a heartbeat, he crossed the clearing. His presence crashed down on the elves with such weight that their breaths caught, their hands trembling over bowstrings.
Alaric staggered, even he was startled by the force of it. So this is who I summoned…
"Relax, Leon," he said quickly, voice hoarse. "They're not our enemies."
The giant clenched his fists, but obeyed. His hostility simmered, but his eyes never left the elves.
He knelt before Alaric, his voice trembling with restrained anger. "My lord, forgive me for being late."
Alaric shook his head weakly. "No… you came at the right time." His vision blurred, darkness pressing at the edges. Still, a faint smile touched his lips. "With you here, I feel safe already."
His knees buckled. He collapsed into Leon's waiting arms.
The elf leader swallowed hard, then spoke quickly. "Our priestess is skilled in healing. Let us take you both to our settlement. Please—time is short."
Leon's glare cut like a blade. "If you have a healer, then move faster." The elves didn't argue. They led the way.
Their settlement lay deep within the forest, hidden in a clearing ringed by towering oaks. Wooden huts stood beneath the trees, bridges of rope and vine linking platforms high above. About thirty elves emerged as the group arrived, their wary eyes flicking first to Alaric's limp form, then to the mountain of a man who carried him.
Leon's aura pressed against them like a storm cloud. The bravest among them faltered under his gaze.
"Relax," a calm voice said.
An elderly elf woman stepped forward, robes trailing across the grass. Her eyes were gentle but sharp with wisdom.
"I am the priestess here," she said, bowing. " He saved one of my own, so I will save him."
Leon's glare lingered, but after a long moment he allowed her near. She placed a bowl of green liquid into his hand.
"Give him this." Leon lifted Alaric's head and carefully tipped the potion past his lips. Slowly, 10 minutes later the color returned to Alaric's face. His breathing steadied.
Next, the priestess spread a thick herbal paste across his wounds, wrapping them with practiced hands. "He will wake in a few hours. Let him rest."
Leon didn't rest. He stood beside the bed they prepared for Alaric, his hand never far from his sword.
Hours passed. At last, Alaric stirred. His eyelids fluttered open to see the hulking figure still standing guard, unmoved.
"You didn't leave?" Alaric rasped.
Leon's mouth twisted into a snort. "Until my lord walks again, I won't take a single step away."
A faint chuckle escaped Alaric. "You're more loyal than I deserve."
He tried to sit up, and Leon's arm steadied him instantly.
The curtain at the hut's entrance rustled. Five elves entered: the priestess, the stern leader, two guards, and the children trailing shyly behind.
Agis rushed forward. "Big brother, you're awake! Are you feeling better?"
His sister Ava whispered, barely audible. "Thank you… for saving us."
Alaric smiled, patting her head gently. "I didn't do much. But next time—don't wander alone. Danger hides everywhere."
He pulled the wolf fang necklace from his pouch and pressed it into her small hands. "Take this. A gift. A reminder to stay safe."
Her eyes widened with joy. She glanced at her father, who gave a solemn nod. Clutching the necklace, she beamed.
The priestess looked at Agis and Ava with a gentle look, then approached Alaric as he tested his almost healed arm. "The forest sings your praise, young human. You have the thanks of my entire family. You risked your life for kin not your own."
Alaric shook his head "There is no debt. Any person with a shred of decency would have done the same. To stand by while children are in danger? That is the true madness."
"Yet, many would have calculated the risk," she replied, her wise eyes studying him.
"Then this world has fewer 'sane' people than I thought," he said with a faint smile. He then gestured to his bandaged arm. "Your skill, however, is what truly astounds me. The pain is gone; the flesh feels whole. This is more than medicine—it is an art. Your knowledge is a treasure that could save countless lives."
'This is it,' Alaric thought, watching her humble reaction. 'Her talents are wasted in this vulnerable village. She could be the cornerstone of a true hospital, the heart of a healthy, thriving territory. I must make her see the future I can build.'
"Such praise from a warrior is rare," she demurred.
"Truth is truth," Alaric said. "A community's strength is measured by the health of its people. Your art is a power that builds empires."
The elf leader stepped forward. His expression had softened, though tension still edged his words. "Human… Alaric. You've seen our humble home. Tell me—what do you think of it?"
Before Alaric could answer, Leon's snort cut the silence.
"Average at best."
The room stiffened. Anger flared in the Elves' eyes.
Leon's gaze burned back, unflinching. "If you want honesty, then hear it. Your village lies deep in the forest—easy to strike, hard to defend. Your watch posts are scattered, your food stores exposed. If raiders or beasts came, you'd fall in days."
His words were knives. But they carried the truth. Even Alaric found himself startled by their blunt weight.
Leon's lip curled. "If not for fate, sending my lord here, your children would be bones already. Remember that before you glare at me."
A heavy silence followed. The elves shifted, shame flickering across their faces.
Alaric closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a slow breath.
So this is the path I've stepped onto… bonds forged not with words, but with fire and blood.