There Is No World For ■■

Despite his terrifying reputation, Demerond gave off the vibe of a laid-back uncle when met in person.

The way he sipped wine reminded Yeomyeong of a foreman at a bar after work—but that didn’t help him relax.

Most of the elves Yeomyeong had met were lunatics, and the one in front of him stood at the very peak of that madness.

“You don’t need to be so tense. If I meant to kill you, you'd be dead already.”

Demerond spoke in a soft voice, as if to ease the tension. Yeomyeong quietly pulled mana into himself as he responded.

“...Did you come here to find me?”

“Partly yes, partly no.”

Yeomyeong narrowed his eyes, prompting Demerond to add,

“If I told you I came because I sensed the mana of the World Tree while passing by... would you believe me?”

“...”

“Mana strong enough to be felt kilometers away—any elf would be drawn to it.”

Pinel in Dreiteriel, now Demerond.

Yeomyeong swallowed a sigh, realizing the World Tree’s crystal had an unexpected downside. Demerond emptied his glass in one go and spoke.

“Well then, now it’s my turn to ask questions. If you haven’t done anything wrong, we won’t need to shed any blood.”

In other words, if there is a problem, blood will be spilled.

Yeomyeong clenched his fist loosely, ready to pull a weapon from his inventory at any moment.

“You came from Dreiteriel, didn’t you? Ever meet an elf named Pinel?”

So he was on his way to Pinel? When Yeomyeong gave a slight nod, Demerond gave him an unreadable look.

“Did you kill her?”

Instead of replying with ‘No, I just cut off her arm,’ Yeomyeong pulled a letter from his coat.

“What’s that?”

“Something she asked me to deliver when we parted ways. A report—meant for you.”

He hadn’t expected to be handing it to the intended recipient the very next day.

Regardless, Demerond broke the seal without hesitation.

There was only a single slip of paper inside. He read it in a flash, crumpled it, and shoved it into his pocket.

“A thousand men... So you were the thousand. That explains it—you were traveling with a dragon. But how’d you get here from Lord Howe Academy?”

The elf scanned Yeomyeong with eyes that now held a mixture of surprise and suspicion.

“I had personal reasons.”

“Reasons? The kind of personal reasons that involve crossing dimensions and stopping a nuke? Now that I’d love to hear. Did the gods give you a divine revelation or something?”

He spoke as if Yeomyeong had somehow known the nuke was going to launch.

In the next instant, a flicker of clarity flashed across Yeomyeong’s mind.

A sudden encounter. A communist. A nuclear weapon. And fate...

He didn’t hesitate.

“...You were heading to Dreiteriel.”

“...”

“To find out why the nuke that was supposed to wipe out the Empire’s capital never went off.”

Demerond didn’t answer. No denial. No shock.

He just quietly stared at Yeomyeong.

Those green eyes—so like Meridis’—met Yeomyeong’s gold ones.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.

And in Demerond’s, Yeomyeong could read his thoughts.

Confusion. Suspicion. And... anticipation.

****

Before Yeomyeong could speak again, Demerond suddenly held out his wine glass.

“Would you pour me a drink?”

“...”

“I swear on the Mother World Tree that not a drop of blood will be spilled tonight.”

The elf gave a slight nod toward the bottle.

A vow on the World Tree? Yeomyeong took the bottle and filled the glass as requested.

Drip— The wine flowing into the glass only heightened the strange tension in the room.

And then, Demerond shattered it with a soft, casual tone.

“How’s my daughter doing in school?”

“...?”

What? Yeomyeong blinked, stunned. Seti, sitting beside him, answered instead.

“She’s doing well.”

Trying to push through her nerves, she lifted her wine glass and took a small sip before continuing.

“Her grades are good, she’s getting along with classmates, and her identity hasn’t been exposed.”

“...And you are?”

“Her roommate. Hong Seti.”

Demerond didn’t look surprised. He’d seen far too much in life to be moved by coincidences like this.

Instead, it was Neti—who had been quietly shrinking into herself—who reacted like she’d been struck by lightning.

“Ssoemiri is an elf?! Wait—is she that elf princess from the news?!”

The words had barely left her mouth when three sets of eyes landed squarely on her.

Realizing her mistake, Neti clamped her mouth shut and bowed her head.

It could’ve come across as rude, but Demerond just let out a quiet chuckle.

Because of the alias—nothing else.

“Ssoemiri? Ssoemiri? Of all the names, why the hell would she pick ‘Sso’?”

The elf rolled the syllable around in his mouth like it left a bad taste. Then he looked back at Yeomyeong and Seti.

“Are there any actual students at the Academy with the last name Sso?”

Neti blinked in confusion, not following. Seti kept her mouth shut. So did Yeomyeong, avoiding the elf’s eyes.

Demerond ran a hand through his stark white hair, instantly sensing they were hiding something.

“So there is someone. Don’t tell me that guy’s dating my daughter?”

“No.”

Immediate answer. Demerond followed up.

“Then is there someone she likes?”

Seti glanced briefly at Yeomyeong. The elf also stared directly at him as he clarified,

“Not him. I mean someone else—among the students.”

“There are a lot of guys crushing on her, but as far as I know, she hasn’t shown interest in anyone.”

Except Yeomyeong, Seti left that part out on purpose.

“Is that so? Pity.”

He said the words, but there wasn’t even a hint of disappointment on his face.

If anything, he looked familiar with the idea. Which was odd, considering they were discussing his daughter’s love life.

Then suddenly, he clapped his hands together.

“Oh—what about girls?”

“...Sorry?”

“I mean, is there a girl dating her? Someone she’s interested in? What do they call it—homosexuality? I hear it’s all the rage among Earthlings these days.”

“...”

Seti couldn’t hide her stunned expression. What the hell is this elf saying?

Demerond took her silence as confirmation there wasn’t anyone and stroked his chin, disappointed.

“The melody’s out of tune, and the performer’s seat is still empty. Life’s cruel.”

Muttering some nonsense, the elf sipped his wine and stared straight at Yeomyeong again.

Then his scarred face twisted into a curious expression.

“Hmm... Thousand-Man?”

“Yes.”

“Did you, by any chance, sleep with my daughter?”

The reactions came immediately.

Neti, sneaking wine when her sister wasn’t looking, spat it out—pfft!

Seti turned her head to hide her face.

Yeomyeong just furrowed his brow in open disgust.

“What kind of question is that?”

“Well, an acorn that’s just fallen to the ground needs all sorts of coincidences to become a tree. But once it’s sprouted, all it needs is water.”

“...”

“Judging from that reaction, I can tell the seed hasn’t sprouted yet. Forget I said anything.”

Like hell I could forget that. Yeomyeong, throat dry, knocked back the rest of his wine.

You’d think the alcohol might ease the tension in the air, but both Demerond and Yeomyeong drank in silence.

Then, after opening the next bottle, Demerond finally spoke.

“Well, since things have come to this, I’d like to make you an offer—or rather, two offers.”

“...An offer?”

“First option: we part ways here, don’t exchange anything, and keep things quiet. Though, of course, I’ll pay for the drinks.”

The elf pulled a gold coin from under his poncho and placed it on the table, continuing without pause.

“Second option: you do one favor for me, and in return, I’ll give you advice and training. What do you say?”

It was vague and open-ended, but ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) not something Yeomyeong could easily dismiss.

The look in Demerond’s eyes was far too serious for that.

While Yeomyeong debated internally, Demerond topped off his glass and added,

“Whatever you choose is up to you. Just know that the only reason I’m making this offer at all is because I respect the World Tree’s decision.”

“...”

The decision didn’t take long.

By the time the merchants’ chatter and Neti’s quiet sipping of wine echoed in his ears—

Yeomyeong had made his choice.

“I’ll accept the second offer.”

****

There were several reasons Yeomyeong chose the second option, but the biggest was Demerond’s level.

One of the top ten strongest beings across Earth and beyond the dimensional gates.

His battle abilities were so classified that only urban legends remained. What kind of teachings could someone like that offer?

If it meant getting his guidance, enduring a difficult request seemed like a fair trade.

With those thoughts in mind, Yeomyeong looked up—and instead of a lesson, Demerond began with advice.

“Send the dragon home.”

Neti immediately lifted her head in surprise, and Demerond elaborated.

“If you keep traveling with the dragon like this, you’re going to keep drawing in people who are after it. A human with Kahal Magdu’s dragon bones and a real, living dragon... to poachers, that’s a walking lottery ticket.”

“...We can handle poachers just fine.”

Seti spoke up in protest, but the elf shook his head.

“I’m giving you this advice because you can handle them. You defeat the poachers—what then? Does it end there? No, the real problem starts after you beat them.”

“...After?”

“Even if they’re criminals, they’re still citizens. Earth’s governments love to use ‘citizens’ as an excuse to get involved. Don’t you think?”

He spoke like someone who’d seen it firsthand. And Seti, knowing the history between elves and the United States, had no rebuttal.

Meanwhile, Yeomyeong, without meaning to, recalled Kahal Magdu’s final warning.

That those who hunted dragons would come after him.

And hadn’t he already seen firsthand the horror over dragon ribs in Manchuria?

“Still... isn’t the dragon safer with us than alone?”

Neti sounded reluctant, but the elf immediately shut her down.

“Dragon Scale Mountains are a natural fortress. Unless someone like Stalin bombards it with poison gas and tanks, there’s no safer place for a dragon.”

“...”

Hearing that, Yeomyeong turned his head and looked at the dragon.

The red dragon was near the campsite, grilling a massive hunk of beef with its breath. Merchants and laborers had gathered around, watching the scene in awe.

It was a warm sight—but maybe that’s what made his heart feel heavier.

If the dragon were to die while helping him, how could he face the dwarf king who’d handed him the royal seal?

The decision didn’t take long. The choice came fast.

“...I’ll follow your advice.”

Maybe it surprised the elf to see Yeomyeong accept the advice without protest or excuse. A faint expression flickered across his face.

“You think of him as a true companion, not a pet. Are you sure you’re from Earth?”

“...”

“If I may give one more piece of advice—hold onto that mindset. Dragons never forget sincerity.”

With that, Demerond rose to his feet.

“Now then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Yeomyeong didn’t refuse. He reached under the table, gripped Seti’s hand tightly, and then stood to follow the elf out of the camp.

As the sound of leaves crunching underfoot, Corvus’s laughter, clinking glasses, and the dragon chewing its beef slowly faded behind them—

Demerond finally spoke again.

“This spot should be good.”

The place they reached wasn’t far from camp. A small clearing.

Without explanation, Demerond pulled out a wine bottle—who knew where he’d had it hidden—and flopped down onto the ground.

“Just to be clear, when you accepted the second offer... did you have any idea what kind of favor I might ask for?”

“I trusted it wouldn’t be anything too outrageous.”

Spoken with confidence. Demerond blew into the bottle with a blank look on his face.

“Not trust—certainty. Let me guess. You figured, since the World Tree chose you, I wouldn’t push you too hard?”

Yeomyeong responded with a dry smile. A silent yes.

Demerond didn’t argue or criticize.

He just chuckled faintly and muttered, “Clever bastard. I like that.”

Finally—after drinking half the bottle—he began the lesson.

“Show me every martial art technique you know. Right here, right now.”

A bit different than what Yeomyeong had imagined.

“Oh—and don’t use any mana.”