Volume 1 Chapter 30 The Banished Half-Elf and the Foolish Prince [Dranix III]
Meanwhile, Dranix lounged in his private chamber, an elegant chuckle slipping from his lips as he cradled a cherished bottle of wine. The crimson liquid swirled slowly, catching the flicker of candlelight. Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes.
At last... the filth is gone.
Across from him, King Baranix sat tall and composed, a faint nod acknowledging the triumph they shared. His golden gaze burned with pride.
"Indeed. Only pure elves remain. This is how our nation should be."
The king savored his wine, letting it linger on his tongue, as if the flavor carried the taste of victory itself.
"And that damn brother of yours. Who did he think he was? Claiming half-elves are our equals. Utter nonsense. He was a counterfeit, tainted by human blood."
Dranix's grin widened, sharp and cold. "Half-elves are an inferior breed. To call them equals is an insult beyond measure. Killing him was definitely the right call."
Laughter rumbled low in the chamber, dark and pleased.
"Oh, Dranix... that's a secret for just us, yes?"
A casual wave of his hand followed. "Dead men tell no tales. No one would ever suspect the royal family."
CLUNK.
A sharp noise echoed through the stone walls, sudden and hollow.
Baranix's gaze snapped toward the sound. "Huh? Someone eavesdropping?"
Dranix's head tilted, expression unbothered. "Father, don't worry. It's just a bird."
Perched on the windowsill, a black crow watched silently, its eyes gleaming with unnatural stillness.
The tension eased from Baranix's shoulders. "Oh... just a scare." He leaned back, gaze turning thoughtful. "Now, about the labor force to replace the half-elves..."
A glimmer of pride shone in Dranix's eyes. He rested his hand over his chest, fingers tapping lightly in rhythm with his steady breath. "The Magic Dolls are performing flawlessly."
Baranix nodded, a slow curl of satisfaction at the corner of his mouth. "Magic-powered dolls... they never tire, never rebel. They work without rest. Wonderful."
A faint glow of triumph settled over Dranix's expression. Soon, I will be king.
"With the dolls in place, we'll never need to dirty our hands again. The entire kingdom will run itself under their labor."
Efficient. Unrelenting. A single order to increase production, and the constructs multiplied—obedient, tireless, flawless.
Baranix's gaze gleamed as he raised his goblet. "Truly remarkable. This magical automaton... nearly invincible. Dranix, you are my pride."
The wine tasted sweeter than ever. They drank deeply, basking in the glow of mutual admiration.
"Foul bloodchild," Baranix muttered, sneer curling his lip. "Imagine where we'd be without these dolls."
Dranix's laugh came soft and certain. "Truly, Father dear~. My automatons are absolute perfection. Flawless. The pinnacle of my genius. Performance beyond perfection—something no mere bloodchild could ever achieve."
Their laughter echoed through the cold stone walls, a sound both triumphant and hollow.
That night, the height of their lives.
...And yet, they were blind.
This was the beginning of their downfall.
The magical automatons followed commands with perfect precision.
Managing horses, for example. Feed them at a specific time? Done, without fail.
But their well-being? Their health? Not a consideration.
No compassion. No instinct to care. No soul.
That very night, the kingdom's beasts—mistreated and starving—broke free.
They ran amok.
* * *
A few days after Mida's induction—
Guildmaster Act led her deep into the forest. The trees loomed like ancient sentinels, their trunks shrouded in a thick, unnatural mist. No human dared tread here.
Their destination lay hidden, sealed behind a barrier of silver fog.
Mida's steps slowed as unease curled around her. "Mr. Act... what is this place?"
"The hidden sanctuary of the Centaurs."
A sharp intake of breath escaped her. "Wh-what!? No way!"
Centaurs—intelligent, high-ranking magical beasts. They avoided humans, shunned all contact. Pain and no gain, they said.
Yet now, one of them stood ahead.
'Lord Act.'
A young Centaur approached, his voice a deep resonance that carried through the mist. His expression, calm and respectful.
Act gave a nod in return. "Hues. Sorry to trouble you."
'It's no problem. Especially for you, Act.'
Mida stared, awe widening her eyes. "W-wow... A Centaur, showing respect to Act... Who are you?"
"I told you." Act's gaze remained steady. "Just a Guildmaster."
"No way... you're totally not ordinary..."
Hues turned his gaze on her, sharp and assessing.
'Girl. State your name.'
"M-Mida... but—"
'Then, Mida.' A bow took shape between Hues's hands, formed from woven magic. He held it out to her. 'Try hitting the target.'
Her fingers hesitated before closing around the weapon. "Target...? I can't even see anything! This fog—"
'You have good ears,' came the simple reply. 'Catch the sound of the wind.'
Confusion clouded her face, but she listened. The Centaur's instructions were brief, his tone calm. Doubt still lingered as she notched the arrow.
It flew.
"I missed, didn't I?"
Act gestured forward. "No. You hit perfectly. Go check."
The target appeared out of the fog—an arrow embedded cleanly in its center.
Mida's breath caught. "W-what... How did you know?!"
"My eyes saw the future where you were delighted."
Her head spun. "Your eyes... seriously off the charts..."
Hues approached, nodding slowly as he examined the result.
'As expected. There's a reason Act brought her here. A genius with the bow.'
The truth settled around her like a weight. She had never touched a bow before. Yet, here she was. The fog, the distance—none of it had mattered.
"Mida." Act's voice came steady. "From today, you'll train under Hues."
"Got it..." Her gaze flickered uncertainly. "What about my [Tamer] training?"
"Continue reconnaissance. But focus on the bow for now."
A pause.
"Then, you'll be reborn. You will become the strongest existence. No one will ever look down on you for having a tainted bloodline again."
His hand rested lightly atop her head. A warmth bloomed in her chest.
Mida smiled and turned toward Hues, offering a respectful bow. "Please take care of me."
'Leave it to me.' His tone was resolute. 'Normally, we Centaurs don't lend our power to humans. But since Act asked... this is a special case. I'll pass on our techniques to you.'
Act nodded once and turned away, leaving them behind.
"Guildmaster, where are you going?"
"I'm gonna do my thing. You focus on yours."
The fog swallowed him as he walked, leaving Mida standing at the threshold of a new future.
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