Chapter 364: Unexpected Encounter (3)

    The Race War, as you know, was the great conflict that broke out 300 years ago.

    If you’re struggling to grasp just how long 300 years is, think of it this way: it’s the equivalent of the time when the Industrial Revolution first began in England.

    Two centuries later, World War I erupted, and not long after, World War II followed, becoming a major turning point.

    If even a decade can bring significant changes to a land, imagine what 300 years could do.

    Such a span of time should unquestionably belong to the annals of history, rather than being considered part of the present.

    When we speak of “living witnesses to history,” we usually refer to elderly individuals who have seen much in their lifetime, though even they rarely live beyond 100 years.

    “To think that Zenon is reading something I’ve written... This feels rather surreal.”

    And now, before me sits not just a living witness to history, but someone who is history itself.

    He is an elf who bears a striking resemblance to Thor—a tragic hero, Eiker Lightsinger.

    Eiker is a figure described in records from the Race War 300 years ago, yet here he is, sitting right in front of me.

    It’s difficult to process.

    I’ve met many elves before and come to understand that their ages often far exceed my own.

    Yet, these encounters rarely felt tangible—they were simply characteristics of their species that I acknowledged in passing.

    Eiker, however, is different.

    He is a figure clearly documented and repeatedly mentioned in history.

    I may one day be recorded in history books myself, but I can’t guarantee I’ll still be around 300 years later, alive and well, as Eiker is.

    “Are you really the Eiker...?”

    “Yes, I am.”

    “The one who fought in the Race War?”

    “If you can call cutting off supply lines ‘fighting,’ then yes. Though after that, I was imprisoned by the damned pointy-ears.”

    “.....”

    I stared at him, dumbfounded.

    To be honest, it’s hard to believe.

    Even including the years from my past life, I’m not yet 40, but Eiker is a figure from 300 years ago.

    In other words, he’s at least 300 years old.

    Considering elves reach societal maturity around the age of 50, and Eiker was already a “Commander” during the war, he must be over 500 years old.

    ‘...That’s an overwhelming gap.’

    It hit me again just how long-lived elves are.

    Standing before this living piece of history left me awestruck.

    But that wasn’t the only thing on my mind—I couldn’t help but wonder why Eiker was here.

    By all accounts, he was supposed to be living in seclusion at his home.

    “Weren’t you living a reclusive life at your residence? That’s what I’ve heard.”

    “What good would it do to hole myself up at home? My lifespan is already ridiculously long—I need to keep busy. Reading is one of my hobbies, you see.”

    His deep, resonant voice filled the air. I nodded at his response.

    Though it still didn’t quite feel real, it seemed certain that the elf in front of me was indeed Eiker.

    Especially given his casual use of the term “pointy-ears.”

    Most elves wouldn’t dare utter such a term, yet Eiker used it so nonchalantly it seemed second nature to him.

    No doubt, it carried anger and resentment in the past, but now it seemed like little more than a habit.

    “It’s truly fascinating. Reading a book, only to find its author sitting right beside me—an author who’s a historical figure, no less.”

    “The feeling is mutual. Zenon himself is reading my book beside me. It’s embarrassing, yet oddly gratifying.”

    Eiker wiped under his nose and let out a soft laugh, seemingly equally amused by the unexpected encounter.

    It truly was a meeting by chance—one that neither of us could have anticipated.

    I met someone I’d only ever read about in history books, and Eiker met the famous Zenon.

    What a strange and serendipitous event. Eiker rarely ventured outside of Alvenheim, let alone to a place like this.

    Yet here we were, crossing paths in such a vast world. Truly, it made one think the world was small after all.

    “Did you come to the sanctuary to read as well?”

    “Partially, yes, but my wife also came here for research. She’s currently on a field assignment, so I follow her whenever she’s back.”

    “Your wife’s a scholar, I take it?”

    “That’s right. And the most beautiful one at that.”

    That last part didn’t seem necessary, but his devotion to his wife was already apparent.

    Since we had the opportunity, I decided to make the most of it and ask him about various topics.

    There had always been things I wanted to know about Eiker.

    I’d already learned through his books that he was far from solemn or distant; rather, he was a patriot who loved Alvenheim deeply.

    Moreover, he wasn’t the typical elegant elf but had a rugged, Viking-like aura that made him all the more intriguing.

    If the treaty hadn’t satisfied the humans, the war likely would have continued.

    “What do you mean by ‘duped’? I’ve never heard that before.”

    “Are you familiar with the terms of the treaty?”

    “Yes. For the next 200 years, Alvenheim agreed to provide food, magic, mana training, and knowledge to the Human Alliance. This allowed the humans to enter a golden age.”

    “They left out tariffs.”

    I blinked at his response, then let out a dry laugh.

    Even basic food supplies would have had enormous tariffs, but they waived them all.

    As Eiker put it, Alvenheim had essentially been conned on a national level.

    The Human Alliance must have banded together to easily acquire Alvenheim’s goods and resources.

    “It was a diplomatic defeat, then.”

    Come to think of it, the records barely mention any military victories.

    All they talk about is the humiliating treaty, which essentially marked Alvenheim’s defeat.

    You could blame the elves for being fools, but it’s also important to note how insular Alvenheim had been.

    By the time they noticed the rapid progress humans were making, it was too late.

    Elf arrogance, self-destruction, and human strategy had synergized to lead to Alvenheim’s humiliation.

    Combine that with the elves’ significantly longer lifespans, and you get a complex war.

    “Hearing it from someone who lived through it gives me a new perspective. No wonder Alvenheim lost in such a strange way.”

    “Lost, indeed. No offense, but humans swarmed like a pack of wolves. Even skilled elf knights couldn’t handle it. Especially with a few outstanding individuals among them, the damage was significant.”

    “...”

    By the time I chuckled at his remark, Eiker was looking at me thoughtfully.

    “Come to think of it, may I ask you something?”

    “Ah, sure. Go ahead.”

    “What do you think will become of Alvenheim in the future?”

    Despite being betrayed by his nation, he still seemed patriotic. Without hesitation, I answered.

    “It has nothing but bright days ahead. As long as Arwen remains on the throne.”

    “A convincing answer. With you alive, there won’t be much political instability either.”

    “...So what about you, Eiker? Do you have any plans? Perhaps...”

    I was about to ask if he planned to return to the military, but he shook his head before I could finish.

    The Council that constantly hindered him was long gone, but he seemed to have no intention of returning.

    “I laid down my sword 300 years ago. Others have taken my place. Returning now would only cause confusion.”

    “That’s a shame. You could be a great help to the nation.”

    “Haha. That’s a bold suggestion. Well, unless something like the Demon Invasion from The Zenon Chronicles happens, I have no plans to pick up a sword again. I’ve decided to enjoy the rest of my days.”

    It was a carefree answer, yet it suited him.

    Just as we were chatting, a familiar voice interrupted.

    “Honey, I found those documents you asked for... Oh?”

    “...?”

    I turned to see who it was.

    The woman who entered was familiar—too familiar. With light green hair tied back, glasses, and an elegant black suit that highlighted her slender figure, it was...

    “Professor Elena?”

    “Isaac? What are you doing here... Ah, that’s right. You mentioned you’d be coming.”

    Professor Elena, my history advisor. She looked at me with surprise before nodding in realization.

    But wait... what did she just call Eiker?

    I turned to look at him. He smiled faintly, as if enjoying my reaction.

    “What an interesting coincidence. The student Elena spoke so highly of... is you? Impressive.”

    “Uh... Professor, are you really...”

    “My beloved wife,” Eiker said matter-of-factly.

    “Stop embarrassing me in front of him!” Elena lightly smacked his shoulder, flustered in a way I’d never seen before.

    More importantly, I tried to calculate her age.

    As a younger-generation elf, she wouldn’t be older than 300. She mentioned she was about 200 not long ago...

    “Um, Eiker? How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

    “I’ve seen 681 springs.”

    “... ...”

    “Why that face?”

    What a cradle robber!