Chapter 69: Banana Disposal

After parting with the knight company, Ellen and Elrin guided Ion’s group to their lodging—their own home.

Parts of the elf village were ruined from the Giant attack, but Ellen and Elrin’s house, shielded by a Solminium barrier, remained intact.

“First time in an elf house. Looks like a human one, just with more wood,” Zieg remarked.

“The mana’s richer here… Oh, this crystal generates mana! A mana crystal!” Semir pointed at a crystal on the wooden table by the fireplace.

Ellen nodded. “We process field byproducts into mana crystals. Every elf keeps some at home. They last a week, but I can give you a few if you want.”

“I won’t refuse. Unlike elves, humans can’t freely gather mana. The more storage tools, the better.”

Ellen handed Semir all the crystals from a drawer. Semir’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“I-I didn’t mean all of them.”

“Take them. You’re our benefactors. We can make more crystals, but repaying you may not come again.”

“…Thank you.”

The temptation was too great, and Semir accepted sheepishly, glancing at Ion, the true hero, to check if it was okay. Ion didn’t care, placing his polished Sansevieria pot at the center of his assigned bed.

Stroking Sanse’s leaves, he noticed a basket on the nightstand, lined with soft cloths and holding a pink egg slightly smaller than an ostrich’s. Zieg spotted it too.

“Whoa, an elf egg? Where elves are born from?”

“Correct,” Ellen said. “Elders produce eggs, and a chosen volunteer raises it. Elrin volunteered this year and received one.”

“Don’t you need to hold it constantly?”

“Early on, yes, but it’s grown enough now.”

“When will it hatch?”

“Within a month or two.”

“Cool. I wanna raise one,” Baba chirped, fluttering onto the basket.

Ellen swiftly scooped it up, clutching it protectively.

“I’ll take my leave. Rest well.”

“Huh? Where to? It’s night. Do elves sleep late?” Zieg asked.

“We’ll sleep at the village hall. Rest comfortably, our benefactors.”

“Oh… thanks!”

The hosts left their home to the guests. Ion hurried after Ellen, who paused.

“Something wrong?”

“I want to commission ring crafting. Is there an enchanter in the village?”

“The ring? From the Giant Executor. One of our elders is a skilled enchanter.”

Ion had retrieved the Executor’s ring—specifically, the insignia portion.

Two reasons: First, the Demonkin, as allies, would demand he fight Giants. Showing the ring, proof of killing an Executor, would shift their view from “pathetic humans” to “impressive.”

Second, the ring was a pinnacle of Giant chemistry. On Earth, chemical engineers could analyze and apply it.

Ion handed the insignia to Ellen—a 30cm by 20cm oval metal piece with a volcano engraving, heavy and large. Ellen carried it effortlessly, while Ion would’ve needed weight-reduction or strength-enhancing magic. In Idea, mana was plentiful, but Earth’s scarcity made enchanting necessary.

Enchanters were like Earth’s item crafters, embedding aura into materials like parchment, beads, or planks to store objects. Damaging the material released the item. Ion requested the insignia be stored in a small ring—not to wear, but to keep in Sanse’s pot, his storage.

“What school or master did you study under, Master Ion?”

“Got a sister? I saw someone like you at a party in Iliand’s Floren region.”

“Using aura and mana together is tough. How do you do it?”

“You treasure that plant so much—any special story? Like a fiancée’s gift?”

“I’m an Aura Expert. How long to reach Aura Lord?”

“Your familiar uses standard speech, but you’ve got a clear Iliand accent. Where in Iliand did you grow up? I stayed there as a kid.”

These were questions Semir and Zieg bombarded Ion with during their stay. Semir’s were scholarly, Zieg’s personal—none answerable.

Shouldn’t have agreed to travel together. If this persists, I’ll ditch them after a warning.

On the third morning, Ion woke with that resolve. The house was silent—Semir and Zieg, eager for the village’s pure mana, had left early for mana-absorption training, as they did yesterday. Ion, who needed little sleep, had been pretending to oversleep to avoid them.

“Dam Ion.”

“…!”

A bat fluttering in his face startled him.

“I told you to make noise—you’re too quiet.”

“Yup.”

“Not just agree—make sounds.”

“How do I make noise?”

“Flap your wings, cough, call my name.”

“Yup. Called your name. Problem?”

“…”

Ion sighed, preparing to leave. Baba circled him.

“People outside talking about you.”

“Outside? Semir and Zieg?”

“No. Elves.”

Elves talking about me?

It was their last day in the village. Thanks to the elves’ hard work, the black powder field transfer crystals were sent to other strongholds yesterday after coordinate adjustments. Though Giants outmatched level-3 monsters, they’d be a nuisance.

Ion planned to pick up the crafted ring and leave.

The past three days, elves avoided Ion, chatting freely with Semir and Zieg but whispering about him from afar. Only Ellen and Elrin approached him.

Why talk about me now?

Wiping dust from Sanse’s leaves, Ion stepped outside. Elves lingered near Ellen’s isolated house, scattering when he made eye contact, only to regroup and whisper again.

“Baba.”

“Yup.”

“Listen to their talk.”

“I hear from here. Some say you’re not a Revelator. Others say you are. They’re arguing. Lots of arguing.”

Debating if I’m a Revelation attribute user.

Ion deemed it serious enough to use sensory enhancement magic—a mana-heavy spell he’d used only once during training on Earth. Ten years later, he cast it as skillfully as if practiced daily.

His hearing sharpened, catching distant elf whispers as if they were beside him. But his Elven was rusty, picking up only fragments.

“Revelator… familiar…”

“…benefactor… magic… Revelator…”

“They’re talking about you too,” Ion said.

“Yup. Elves don’t think bad of you. But they don’t trust you ‘cause of the bat familiar. Wonder why you keep a bat. They don’t like me…”

Baba landed on Ion’s shoulder, wings drooping.

No big deal.

Ion dispelled the magic—elves’ mana affinity risked exposing him.

“They like you. Say you’re cute, don’t look twenty, all soft and fluffy.”

“Not that. Anything else?”

“One elf saw another at Cheti’s house last night. That elf’s embarrassed, says it’s not like that.”

“Not that either… Forget it, stop.”

“And they want to give the bat bananas.”

“What?”

“Say the bat looks hungry. Want to give bananas. True. I’m listening now.”

“They don’t like you but want to feed you?”

“Dunno.”

“They’re not saying that. You said you catch bits, so don’t lie—I won’t trust you again.”

“Tch.”

Caught lying and it’s “tch”?

Plants were superior to animals—they didn’t lie. Ion continued his walk, cradling Sanse. Elves bowed, and he returned the gestures. Baba kept yammering about bananas.

“They really got bananas for me. True. Piled up for when we leave.”

“Where?”

“Village entrance.”

From the hill, Ion saw a crate of bananas—twenty bunches, now forty as elves added another.

“Just now, an elf called me a pig. Am I a pig?”

Ion was on the hill, the banana crate tiny, elves like toothpicks.

“You heard that?”

“Yup. Am I a pig?”

“How far can you hear?”

“Anything I want. Heard Zieg’s bow, Semir’s prayers, Ellen and Elrin teaching kids. Oh, Zieg just farted. Stinks. Wanna puke. Need banana smell.”

“…”

Watching the bat flare its nostrils, Ion pondered.

This palm-sized bat was likely an S-rank chimera. Its Giant creator taught it Elven, modified its vocal structure for fluent speech, and gave it exceptional hearing and smell.

“What did your owner intend for you?”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Banana disposal.”

“…”