Unbelievable, I couldn’t believe it, but Lord Noah’s words turned out to be true. Â
Breaking the stubbornness of the elders requires a bit of reckless courage from the young.
For those who refuse to accept change easily, you must be determined to force that change upon them.
I tried to persuade them with kind words.
Even if it seemed like a childish tantrum, it was fine. Â
If they had just brought Mother Forest’s bow before me, everything would have been alright.
But as expected, my kin immediately started slandering me, calling me corrupted and whatnot.
What I had to do there was, of course, just one thing: persuade my stubborn kin.
If words wouldn’t work, then the best option was to drill some sense into their ears with physical force.
It seemed they still didn’t understand that spirits and magic could ultimately be resolved with fists.
If it had been lower-ranked warriors skilled with bows, it might have been more troublesome.
In the elven world, those who are mediocre with spirits and magic resort to this as a last resort.
But as expected of elves, their aiming and shooting skills were top-notch.
In the Great Forest, they were nothing more than guards protecting the forest and the village.
But to me, with my mediocre skills in spirits and magic, arrows were the most frightening.
They probably struggled even to close the distance, gasping for breath.
“…Do you become this strong when you leave the village?”
Seril couldn’t hide her bewilderment when I reverse-summoned a spirit three times and asked me that.
As far as she knew, spirits drew their power from the world itself, so reverse-summoning them was usually impossible.
She seemed curious about how just swinging a scabbard could make them all disappear with a ‘poof!’
“Spirits are a form of life, after all.”
“So?”
“Even if they draw power from the world itself, it’s not infinite. Moreover, since they’re connected to the spirit user, they must feel pain. Even if not, they would still be shocked.”
Something that didn’t exist in the world gains a physical form through a contract.
That means physical force, which previously didn’t work, now does.
And I made the most of that. Â
“…If it were that easy, humans wouldn’t be so obsessed with spirit magic.”
“I also learned diligently from Elenia.” Â
Then Seril muttered, “I don’t really like spirit magic either, maybe I should ask for a favor.”
That’s a great attitude.
How do you expect to survive this harsh world with just magic and spirit magic? Â
There’s no benefit in neglecting or looking down on something.
Mastering everything is the best approach. Â
Especially since elves have much better physical abilities than humans, yet they don’t put in the effort, which is truly a pity.
“Tyreal. Over there.”
Led by the elder, the oldest members of the village were bringing something.
It looked like a box covered in vines, with grass and flowers growing all over it.
“Here. As you wished, Mother Forest’s bow. Tyreal.”
The elder tapped the box with magic, and the tightly wound vines suddenly disappeared.
The flowers that were in full bloom retreated, and the grass covering the entrance thinned out.
“You’ve been so persistent, so we’ll grant your wish. But there’s one condition…”
“If I fail to draw Mother Forest’s bow, I will accept punishment and live according to the elders’ wishes for the rest of my life. Is that acceptable?”
It’s obvious what the older kin want to say to me.
Even if they couldn’t stop me, they believe I won’t be able to handle this treasure.
So they plan to use this as an excuse to suppress the rebellious young kin.
How satisfying it would be for them to see the young elf, full of audacity, fail to overcome the forest.
A young elf realizing their limits before Mother Forest’s bow, shedding tears of regret.
That would be the only way to quell the current turmoil caused by the young.
“…”
Be careful.
What I aim to break is the narrow-minded views and thoughts of my kin. Â
If I handle this sacred object carelessly, it could backfire.
I am also an elf.
I must not forget that.
I must respect tradition.
“Before handling Mother Forest’s bow, please tell me what I need to do.”
At my words, the elder’s expression softened slightly.
He must have been worried that I would handle the sacred object recklessly.
“First, kneel and offer your prayers to the World Tree, Mother of the Great Forest, and the ancestral spirits, proving yourself to them.”
I almost asked if they were even listening, but I held back.
At least for this moment, it’s best to do as they say.
I knelt before the box.
A refreshing energy filled the air; it was clearly an extraordinary object.
I began to vaguely understand why magic and spirit magic were necessary.
The surrounding mana felt different.
Even I, with my low sensitivity, could feel it.
That says it all.
An average elf would have given up just trying to touch it, as the mana would reject them.
“Hoo.”
I steadied my breath and cautiously expressed my inner thoughts, unsure if they were listening.
“Call me arrogant if you will. It’s fine to call me presumptuous. After all, I am still an elf. But as an elf, I don’t want to be called or judged as something else. We must prevent this beautiful and noble race from collapsing under its own sins.”Â
So today, I will handle this object and succeed.
With that resolve, I reached for the bow without a hint of hesitation.
*
“…”
Seril, unable to hide her anxiety, was fully focused on her childhood friend.
Mother Forest’s bow.
She had never handled it herself but had heard many stories.
Stringing it required mana control, and drawing it needed the help of spirits.
There was a reason all elves had tried it that way.
That was the only way to even attempt it.
Without it, they couldn’t even touch it.
But Tyreal choose a method that directly opposed that.
Without any mana control or spirit assistance.
Relying solely on his own strength. Â
He began to struggle, trying to grip Mother Forest’s bow and string it.
“Tsk tsk. I knew it. Trying to brute force it.”
“If that were possible, why would magic and spirit magic be considered the best? These youngsters never listen to the elders’ experienced advice.”
“Let it be. He’ll learn from his failure.”
The elder and almost all the elves clicked their tongues and shook their heads.
It’s impossible.
That’s far beyond what physical strength can achieve. Â
It’s a foolish endeavor.
No matter how many days he tries, nothing will change. Â
“Tyreal!”
At that moment, a familiar voice called out.
Turning my head, I saw Tyreal’s parents. Â
Having known Tyreal for so long, I had also met his parents many times.
“Father. Mother.”
“Seril! You, when did you—! Well, it’s good you returned early. That’s a relief. By the way, Tyreal has returned, right? Where is he now?”
“Over there.”
The two elves looked in the direction Seril pointed and gasped, covering their mouths.
Why?
How?
Their son, who still had time before his coming-of-age ceremony, was holding Mother Forest’s bow.
“What is this…”
They themselves had tried the bow during their coming-of-age ceremonies, so they knew well.
It’s not just difficult.
There’s a reason it constantly requires magic and spirit assistance.
Without them, one could easily get seriously hurt.
A sacred object is sacred for a reason.
‘What are you doing! We need to stop him!’
“Y-yes, we should! Seril?”
“I’m sorry, but you can’t right now.”
Seril, blocking Tyreal’s parents, continued firmly.
“Right now, Tyreal is fighting for our kin. For us elves. I’m sorry, but you must not interfere.”
“What are you talking about! Mother Forest’s bow is no ordinary bow! He could get seriously hurt if he mishandles it!”
“Do you think Tyreal doesn’t know that? No, he knows. He knows and still chooses to do this.”
Please trust your child.
He’s a fool, but a fool you can trust, who ran away to achieve something.
At Seril’s words, the two elves could only fidget, unable to say anything more.
Meanwhile, there was no significant change with Mother Forest’s bow.
Tyreal, gritting his teeth, continued to struggle, but there was no sign of the string being drawn.
It’s not just that the string is tough.
The surrounding mana is refusing to allow it.
It’s natural for it to resist when someone tries to handle what cannot and should not be handled.
“Tsk tsk. Such stubbornness.”
“Shouldn’t we stop him now? He could really get hurt.”
‘If he gets hurt, he has no one to blame. It’s a good lesson for him.’
For a moment, a vein popped on Seril’s forehead.
What are these damn old folks saying?
Who said it’s okay if he gets hurt?
Have they already forgotten about that elf they kicked out of the village last time?
Do they need a reminder of what their temper is like?
“…Huh?”
If it weren’t for the sigh of an elf standing right next to her.
She would have lunged at them, showing not respect for the elderly but an attack on the elderly.
Creeeak!!
There, with a loud noise, Tyreal finally managed to string the bow.
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