Chapter 8: The Half-Elf’s Revelation

Vivian’s eyes, filled with a peculiar curiosity, surveyed the elf who was covering her face in embarrassment. She then gently pinched her father’s earlobe, asking with genuine wonder:

“Father, why is Sister Serina like this?”

“Sister Serina is currently battling a monster named Shame, Vivian. Let’s give her some space to calm down.”

Unfamiliar with the concepts of embarrassment or shame, Vivian, after hearing her father’s explanation, simply believed that Sister Serina was genuinely fighting an invisible foe.

Extending her tender little hand, she gently patted Serina’s head, cheering:

“Pat, pat… all the awkwardness will fly away~ You can do it, Sister Serina!”

Flush—

Cheered on by the adorable Vivian’s innocent voice, Serina felt an even greater surge of shame. Her cheeks reddened, becoming almost as vibrant as the evening glow painting the horizon.

‘Why did I misunderstand so terribly… What was I even thinking?’ Serina mused.

Though it was merely a minor misunderstanding, Lynne observed Serina, who appeared as if she wished to bury herself deep within the earth.

He decided it was best to grant the elven princess some solitary space. It was often said that elven royalty possessed immense pride, and this moment certainly confirmed that notion.

***

A good while passed.

“My apologies,” Lynne suddenly spoke.

“Huh?”

Recovering from her extreme embarrassment, Serina looked towards Lynne’s back with a puzzled expression.

“I unintentionally brought up a sensitive topic just now. Your relationship with the other members of the royal family isn’t very good, is it?”

Lynne’s words caused Serina to pause.

‘Not very good? Well, it’s alright…’ Serina mused, recalling an incident where someone had picked a fight with her, only to be easily beaten into crawling on the ground, after which no one dared to provoke her again.

Serina held no interest or desire for the so-called royal family affection, nor did she aspire to the throne. Her sole ambition was to gain recognition from her mother, the current Elf Queen.

This was why she strived so diligently in swordsmanship, hoping to draw her mother’s gaze and approval.

When Lynne realized Serina’s silence wasn’t due to a painful wound being reopened, but rather her deep contemplation of the sword art he had employed to slay the evil dragon, he was taken aback.

“That’s it?”

Lynne felt utterly foolish, having cautiously assumed he had touched upon a delicate heart.

Instead, he had encountered a sword fanatic. Yet, Serina’s resilience was evident in her refusal to be disheartened by her inability to wield magic.

“With nothing but swordsmanship occupying your mind, remaining in Alfheim truly wastes your talent,” Lynne remarked with a sigh.

Serina, however, paid no mind to his comment. Once the air was cleared, she transformed into an eager student, humbly seeking Lynne’s guidance.

“Ahem… The sword art I use isn’t anything particularly special,” Lynne mumbled, scratching his head awkwardly.

“I understand. A sword art capable of slaying an evil dragon in a single strike must have reasons for not being disclosed to outsiders,” Serina concluded.

Serina lowered her long eyelashes, her face etched with apology. “My apologies, Mr. Lynne, I was not considerate enough.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… sigh, I’ll just show you.” Seeing that she had misunderstood again, Lynne simply revealed the two longswords he had kept concealed, presenting them to her:

Two swords were fastened at Lynne’s waist. One possessed a surface of absolute blackness that seemed to devour the surrounding light, while the other’s blade was almost transparent, with only a strange, flowing white luminescence within, making it appear quite peculiar.

“This is the sword I used to slay that evil dragon,” Lynne stated calmly, gesturing to the pitch-black longsword. “This sword is called Nightcutter, and it’s a Divine Artifact.”

“Di… Divine Artifact!?”

Witnessing a divine creation, legendary to have been forged by the Goddess of Creation herself, Serina’s eyes widened as she gasped in disbelief.

“Is this… a legendary weapon forged by the gods from branches of the World Tree?”

“Uh… not all Divine Artifacts are made from World Tree materials,” Lynne clarified.

In Trasil’s lore, Divine Artifacts were exceedingly rare legendary equipment, forged by the Goddess of Creation from World Tree or other world-tier materials.

Their purpose was to grant mortals the power to utterly destroy the rulers within the Black Tide.

They comprised weapons, armor sets, accessories, and various items, scattered sparsely across the continent.

Each piece was priceless, and those Divine Artifacts possessing inherent authorities were revered as national treasures.

Although their power inevitably inflated in the later stages of the game, in the early days, even before the official public beta, Divine Artifacts were undoubtedly revered treasures.

So scarce were they that even Alfheim itself only possessed three national guardian Divine Artifacts. Yet, two of them were now visible on a single traveler.

This entirely shattered Serina’s understanding.

“Are… are you even human?” Serina murmured, utterly stunned.

“No, I’m an elf. A half-elf is still an elf!”

Serina’s pupils gleamed with astonishment as she covered her mouth. “Eh? Mr. Lynne, you’re a half-elf?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“My apologies, Mr. Lynne, you’ve been wearing your hood, so I didn’t recognize you at first glance,” Serina confessed, her voice tinged with shame.

Lynne removed the hood of his dark robe, revealing his jet-black hair and perfectly pointed ears, which resembled equilateral triangles.

While he possessed elven features, his hair color was strikingly different from Serina’s.

Within Trasil’s game lore, the elven kingdom of Alfheim was home to High Elves, Dark Elves, and Half-Elves.

The method of distinction was quite straightforward, if a bit crude: one simply observed their hair color and pupil characteristics.

The High Elves residing in the central-southern royal capital region inherited pure elven bloodlines, boasting dazzling golden hair and a high sensitivity to aether.

In essence, they were naturally attuned to resonate with and guide aether, making them inherently more suited to be mages.

To the east resided the equally ancient race of Dark Elves. Contrary to the High Elves, their distinguishing feature was silver hair, shimmering like moonlight.

While Dark Elves did not possess as high an aetheric sensitivity, they excelled in agility and skill.

Simply put, Dark Elves were a race adept at using various weapons like daggers or bows, employing nimble movements for lethal one-hit kills.

Although Dark Elves could also use magic, they preferred to fight with weapons, unlike the High Elves’ innate high sensitivity.

Thus, for Serina, a High Elf unable to cast magic and instead wielding weapons like a Dark Elf, she was considered an anomaly.

Had she not been the Second Princess, her marginalization would likely have been far more severe than simply being an outcast.

As for Half-Elves, as their name suggested, they were a lineage born from the fusion of elven and human blood.

Half-Elves occupied a middle ground; while they possessed talents from both humans and elves, these talents were generally quite mediocre. Jet-black hair was the distinctive trait of this blended elven and human heritage.

Incidentally, Alfheim had a clear hierarchy, roughly: High Elves > Dark Elves > Half-Elves at the very bottom. In Dark Elf territories, this order was reversed.

Naturally, Half-Elves remained at the lowest rung, constantly wandering, no matter the region.

Lynne had initially chosen the Half-Elf race primarily because they could learn almost anything, offering a far broader range of potential skill paths than the other two races.

He also found black-haired elves quite handsome. Of course, the most crucial reason was that the other two races could not change their hair color.

In any case, withinTrasil’s lore, Half-Elves also possessed a long lifespan, which made no significant difference to Lynne.

“Now you understand why I wear a hood, don’t you? After all, I’m a Half-Elf, at the very bottom of Alfheim’s hierarchy.”

Lynne offered a self-deprecating smile.

“And I’m a marginalized princess within the royal family; we’re quite similar, aren’t we?” Serina replied with a natural smile. If I may be so bold, Mr. Lynne, your wife is…?”

Serina’s gaze flickered towards Vivian, and she likely already had her answer.

“A Dark Elf. Surprising, isn’t it… a Dark Elf and a Half-Elf giving birth to a pure-blood elf.”