Twilight Harem: Reborn as an Elf, Conquer Every Foe and Rise to Power - Episode 4

The sound of hooves striking cobblestones echoed through the morning stillness. Half a day's ride southwest from the Karavita trading post. Sarasa and Gilda had stopped to rest at a small spring along the highway. Their two horses, having drunk their fill, snorted contentedly. "You really were a forty-year-old lady in your past life, huh." Gilda tilted her waterskin as she spoke, her words tinged with deep emotion. Her blonde hair was tied back in a single bundle, and her leather chest guard gleamed dully in the morning sun. "What are you on about now? I thought you believed me ages ago." "No, I do believe you. But sometimes, when we're traveling like this, you really do just look like an ordinary eighteen-year-old elf girl. The way you move, the way you laugh." "Well, thanks. The body is eighteen, after all. Even if the inside's an old lady." Sarasa gave a wry smile and looked down at her own hands. Slender fingers, pale and fine-textured skin. They were nothing like the hands she'd had in her past life as Sarasa—rough from housework and overtime. (*Until I got used to this body, I startled myself every time I looked in a mirror.*) "So, what's the first thing you'll do when we reach the capital?" "First, information. Use your connections to introduce me to an underworld informant or something." "Yeah. In Fontile's merchant district, there's a tavern called the Amber Cup. The owner's an old acquaintance of mine. When it comes to underground dealings, he knows more than anyone." Gilda stood up and began checking the horses' saddles. Her movements were efficient—a clear sign of her former life as a mercenary. "And one more thing. I want to know more about the elf hunting. What's happening in the nobles' mansions, who's at the center of it. And about that husband of Marguerite you mentioned." Gilda's hands stopped for just a moment. "...You're serious about fighting them, aren't you? They're nobles of the Seven Wings Council. The most powerful people in this country." "I told you I'm going to make a place for myself. If they get in the way, I'll just remove them." Sarasa's voice was calm. But deep within her eyes lurked a dangerous light. It was a ferocity she had gained by dying once and being reborn—something she'd never possessed in her past life as a mere office worker. Gilda stared into Sarasa's eyes for a long moment. "...Alright. If you're that determined, I'll stick with you to the bitter end. I've already entrusted my life to you." "Yeah, leave it to me. I promised I'd make your life interesting, didn't I?" Sarasa grinned. Gilda found herself grinning back. They were just about to mount their horses again when it happened. "—Wait." Sarasa's hand grabbed Gilda's arm. She strained her ears. Mixed with the wind, she thought she'd heard a faint scream. Her superior elven hearing was picking up distant sounds that Gilda, a human, couldn't perceive. "Over there. Off the highway. Someone's calling for help." "What? I don't hear anyth—" "Just come on!" Sarasa leaped onto her horse and galloped off the highway into the grasslands. Gilda hurriedly followed. After riding through the wasteland for a while, an old stone ruin came into view ahead. It must have been a farmhouse once. The walls were crumbling, and half the roof had collapsed. And parked in front of it—a covered wagon. "That's... a noble's crest." Gilda's voice was low. Embroidered on the wagon's side in gold thread was the crest of a serpent with outstretched wings. One of the houses belonging to the Seven Wings Council. From inside the ruin, another scream rang out. This time, both of them heard it clearly. A young woman's voice. Sarasa dismounted and approached the ruin's entrance without a sound. Gilda followed, drawing her sword. The interior was dim, thick with the smell of mold and dust. Straw was scattered across the floor, and on it— Three young elf girls were huddled together. Thick ropes bound their wrists. Their clothes were torn, their hair disheveled, their faces frozen in terror. They looked to be in their mid to late teens. All of them were emaciated—it was clear they hadn't had a proper meal in a long time. "Elves... they're barely more than children." Gilda's voice trembled. Even as a former slave trader, this was a sight she couldn't bear. Just then, men's voices came from a room further inside. "Load them up, quickly! We must reach the capital before sundown!" "Yeah, yeah. But these ones are fine goods, aren't they? How much do you think they'll sell for?" "Lady Marguerite is looking forward to them. Do not be late." The moment she heard those words, something inside Sarasa switched over. (*Marguerite, huh?*) The very name she and Gilda had been talking about just moments ago. The husband of Marguerite, rumored to be a central figure in the elf hunting. And Marguerite herself was involved in this kidnapping. Sarasa signaled Gilda with her eyes. Gilda readjusted her grip on her sword. "Can you tell how many there are?" "Two, from the sound of the voices. But there might be a lookout outside." "I'll handle the inside. You watch outside. If anyone tries to run, grab them." "Got it." Sarasa stood up. There was no need to hide anymore. Two men emerged from the back room. One was a portly, middle-aged man. The other was thin and young. Both wore shoddy leather armor, but the swords at their hips were well-maintained. "Wh-Who are you!" "Just a passing elf. Passing through." Sarasa stepped forward slowly. The men's eyes fixed on her pointed ears. "Hey, look at that! An elf! And a top-quality one at that!" "This is our lucky day! To think we'd catch four of them!" The thin young man approached, a lecherous grin spreading across his face. "Little lady, you've come to the right place. Just let yourself be tied up quietly. If you don't resist, it won't have to hur—" She didn't let him finish. Sarasa's kick shattered the man's knee from the side. CRACK! "GYAAAAAAAHHH!!" The man collapsed, screaming. He rolled around clutching his leg, but the bone was completely broken. White fragments had pierced through the skin, and blood gushed out. "You're the ones who are going to get hurt." Sarasa's voice was cold as ice. "Y-You wretch!!" The middle-aged man frantically drew his sword. But his hands were shaking. It was painfully obvious he wasn't used to combat. Sarasa closed the distance in a single step. Faster than the man could bring his sword down, her palm strike drove deep into his solar plexus. CRUNCH. A dull sound rang out, and the middle-aged man's body folded in half. He collapsed to his knees, vomiting the contents of his stomach. "Gah... guh..." Sarasa grabbed the fallen man by the hair and forced his face up. "I have questions. Answer honestly. Otherwise, I'll break your other knee too." "Eek... A-Anything, just ask..." "Who is this Marguerite? Where is she?" "L-Lady Marguerite is... a high-ranking noble... acting on behalf of her husband, she told us to gather elves..." "Gather them for what?" "I-I don't know... We just transport them as ordered... I swear!" Sarasa's eyes narrowed. This man was just a low-level thug. He wouldn't know the core details. But— "Where are you taking them?" "The noble district... the eastern underground waterway entrance in Candira. We're supposed to hand them over there at midnight..." "I see." Sarasa released the man's hair. He remained face-down on the ground, weeping and apologizing. In the back, the young man was groaning, clutching his knee. He had no will to fight anymore. "Gilda! It's done over here!" Gilda poked her head in through the entrance. Apparently, there had been no lookout outside. "...You really don't hold back, do you." Seeing the two men collapsed on the floor and the blood, Gilda gave a wry smile. "I actually went easy on them." Sarasa approached the cowering elf girls. All three were terrified, their bodies trembling. "It's alright. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. I've come to help you." The girl who looked the oldest timidly raised her face. Fear still lingered in her large green eyes. But deep within them, just the faintest glimmer of hope was beginning to take root. "Y-You're... an elf...?" "Yeah, an elf like you. And more than that, I'm a passerby who wants to help you." Sarasa took out a knife and cut the ropes binding the girls. Freed, the girls clung to each other and began to cry. They must have endured terror for so long. The tears wouldn't stop. "Thank you... thank you so much..." "Your name?" "M-Myuriel... it's Myuriel." Myuriel answered, her face crumpled with tears. Her silver hair fell over her tattered clothes. "Where were you taken from?" "Near the village of Tira... in the Faran Sea of Trees. We're a family of exiles, not allowed into the village. We lived on the outskirts of the sea of trees. Then, three days ago, suddenly..." "I see. Exiles from Tira. I'm the same. So don't worry. We're comrades." When Sarasa smiled, Myuriel's eyes widened. "You were also sentenced to exile... that brand on your forehead..." "Yeah. The village folks are so stubborn, it's a real pain. So, what will you do now? Go back to the sea of trees? Or—" Sarasa was about to continue when Gilda cut in. "Wait, Sarasa. Sending them back to Tira right now is dangerous. According to these guys, elf hunters have been prowling around the sea of trees lately. Even if they go back, they might just get captured again." "Is there somewhere safe?" "There's a hideout in the capital. An old abandoned church in the Ashbottom slums, managed by one of my former subordinates. A woman named Iris runs the place. She might be willing to shelter elves there. But—" "But?" "Iris is a difficult woman. Depending on how negotiations go, she might turn us away." "Then negotiate. That's your specialty, isn't it?" At Sarasa's words, Gilda let out a small laugh. "Well, yeah. I'll give it a shot." Myuriel looked at the two of them anxiously. "Um... what's going to happen to us?" "You'll be protected. I guarantee it. So you don't have to cry anymore." Sarasa placed her hand on Myuriel's head. Her hand was warm, and strong. Tears spilled from Myuriel's eyes again. But they were no longer tears of fear. Gilda tied up the two men and threw them into the wagon's cargo bed. "What should we do with these guys?" "We'll hand them over to the capital guards. This is an elf kidnapping scene. The crime is severe." "You think that'll work? If nobles are involved, it'll just get covered up." "Even so. We'll make our existence known to those nobles. Let them know there's someone out there interfering with their elf hunting." A ferocious smile formed on Sarasa's lips. (*Marguerite, and her husband. I don't know what you're plotting, but I'll never let you kidnap elves right in front of me again.*) On the wagon's canopy, the serpent crest with outstretched wings fluttered in the wind. Sarasa stared intently at that crest. (*So this is the enemy's mark.*) The sky was already deepening into dusk. The western sky burned red, and long shadows stretched across the wasteland. Sarasa, Gilda, and the three elf girls hurried along the road to the capital, their horses and the wagon in tow. Ahead, the walls of Fontile were faintly coming into view. The five-tiered fortress city loomed as a massive shadow in the twilight. "Gilda. The real show starts now. Are you ready?" "Yeah. With you, I'd go even to the depths of hell." "That's reassuring. But before we go to hell, first we'll build our own heaven. And to do that, first we crush every last enemy." Sarasa gripped the horse's reins in one hand and lightly tapped her own chest with the other. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead on the capital.

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Episode 4

Name: Twilight Harem: Reborn as an Elf, Conquer Every Foe and Rise to Power
Author: Novelia

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