Chapter 365: Book 27 (1)

    Today feels like a series of surprises. Not only did I meet a legendary figure recorded in history, but it turns out his wife is my academic advisor.

    The most astonishing part, however, is their age difference—a staggering 400 years.

    Arwen and Cecily are about a century older than I am. However, as a human, my shorter lifespan makes that difference relatively reasonable.

    But Eiker and Elena? Four centuries apart. That’s an extraordinary span even for elves.

    “Don’t elves care about age? A 400-year gap seems excessive, even for your kind.”

    “It is a significant difference, even for elves. If you were to translate it into human terms, it’d be like a 40-year age gap.”

    “When Eiker was off fighting in the racial wars, I hadn’t even been born yet.”

    Elena’s added explanation gave me a sense of the enormity of their age gap.

    A 40-year difference isn’t just a father-daughter dynamic—it’s more akin to a grandfather-granddaughter relationship.

    How, then, did these two even meet? My curiosity got the better of me.

    “How did you two meet?”

    “I confessed to him because I liked his face. You know, elves generally have smooth, delicate features regardless of gender.

    But rugged, bold-looking elves like Eiker are rare, so I snatched him up. Just looking at him makes me feel secure.”

    It was refreshing to hear Elena candidly explain their story. Indeed, rugged elves like Eiker are nearly unheard of, especially with such a uniquely grown beard.

    “And what about the age gap? That must have been a major concern.”

    “At first, it was. But I realized that loving someone meant getting at least 300 years to spend together—that’s more than enough. Plus, age isn’t a big deal for elves.”

    “I did protest at first, saying she could find someone better than me, but she insisted, saying she wanted to study me as a scholar. So I relented.”

    It figures—Elena’s scholarly side played a role even in their romance.

    Eiker is more than just a living piece of history; he’s practically a fossil, making him an irresistible research subject.

    Add to that his striking appearance and open-minded nature, and it’s clear they’re a match made in heaven.

    I decided to shelve my thoughts about their age gap and simply wished them happiness. They’re so in love—who am I to interfere?

    ‘...Yeah, I really shouldn’t.’

    Especially considering how many women I’m already entangled with. Interfering would be downright hypocritical.

    If Eiker is a saintly thief in the purest sense, I’m nothing short of a rogue collector.

    He’s faithful to Elena, whereas I—let’s just say my track record is far less commendable.

    “By the way, Isaac, where’s the queen? You wouldn’t have come to this sacred site alone.”

    “Arwen went to browse some books. She should be back soon.”

    “Oh my, are you on a first-name basis with her now?”

    Elena teased, her knowing smile adding to her playful tone.

    I merely smiled back.

    News of my relationship with Arwen has long since spread across Alvenheim.

    After spending three uninterrupted days together (except when bathing), it was bound to happen.

    Thankfully, no word of Ariel reached anyone’s ears. Mary and Cecily must have handled everything discreetly upon their return.

    “Well, yes. When Alvenheim offers a gift, there’s no reason to refuse.”

    “Good for you. And how about your fiance?e? Have you spoken with her?”

    “That’s been resolved as well.”

    “Then when do you plan to return?”

    “That... might take some time.”

    With the threat of demon worshippers, I needed to bolster my strength.

    And then there was the matter of handling Ariel’s situation. Not to mention The Chronicles of Zenon nearing its conclusion.

    Returning to my teaching position felt like a distant goal.

    “I see. It must be difficult to answer. Don’t worry; I’ll wait. If worse comes to worst, I could even arrange an early graduation for you.”

    “Really? But I still have so much to learn.”

    “Graduation would just be a formality. You could still visit the lab anytime. Your case is exceptional, after all.”

    “Thank you.”

    “In return, I have one question for you. It’s not about you being a prophet or anything like that.”

    Elena adjusted her glasses and spoke softly as I nodded my assent.

    Judging by her tone, it seemed like a personal curiosity.

    “In The Chronicles of Zenon, there’s an elven hero named Luden—the one who merged with the Dark Elf hero to destroy the World Tree.

    Was he perhaps inspired by Eiker? The resemblance is uncanny, especially the betrayal by the Council of Elders.”

    “Yes, that’s correct.”

    I answered immediately.

    There was no need for hesitation; Luden’s character was undoubtedly based on Eiker.

    While I hadn’t anticipated Eiker’s cheerful and bold demeanor, the inspiration was unmistakable.

    Eiker’s patriotism and self-sacrificial nature for Alvenheim were evident from our conversations.

    “See? I told you! You’re the real Luden.”

    “I never thought I was, given how different we are... but this is embarrassing.”

    “You should be proud. Zenon not only based Luden on you but also gave him a truly heroic ending. If I ever meet the Dark Elf hero, I’ll make sure to thank them too.”

    Elena patted Eiker’s sturdy back with a grin, clearly delighted. Eiker, however, could only smile awkwardly, seemingly unused to her exuberance.

    Yet, Musk’s attention was drawn not just to the impending finale.

    Questions and answers, huh...

    This was an event where readers could ask questions, and the author would address them within the book—a Q&A of sorts.

    It was an activity Isaac had long wanted to do but had been too busy to organize.

    Now, confined to the dormitory due to recent issues with demon worshippers, the timing seemed ideal.

    He had already prepared manuscripts in advance, and with free time on his hands, it was the perfect opportunity.

    Of course, a part of Isaac’s intention was to delay the series’ conclusion as much as possible, though his sincerity toward his fans remained genuine.

    Avoid questions unrelated to the work.

    But even if they announced this restriction upfront, chaos was inevitable. Lobbyists would surely pull every string they could.

    Even before Isaac’s identity was revealed, there had been countless attempts at bribery or threats. Now, the situation was no different.

    Isaac’s social circle was famously small, but what little connections he had were extraordinarily strong.

    Out of them, Musk was the most accessible person. He wasn’t royalty or nobility—just a wealthy commoner.

    This man has a habit of acting without thinking, doesn’t he?

    Though Musk hadn’t interacted with Isaac often, his assessment was spot on.

    Isaac saw the event as a simple gesture for his fans, not considering the potential storm it might bring.

    Or, if he did, he was grossly underestimating it.

    Still, Musk couldn’t just tell him not to do it. Sighing, he looked up from the letter to see his secretary, Matthew, standing there.

    “Anything else delivered with this?”

    “Yes, the manuscript for Mary’s latest work also arrived. Volumes 2 and 3, sent together.”

    “Oh! Is that so?”

    “Yes.”

    The news that the up-and-coming author Mary (also known as Cherry) had finally sent her manuscripts brightened Musk’s mood.

    Though not as monumental as The Chronicles of Zenon, her warm writing style and unique settings had won widespread acclaim.

    Her work was especially popular among women and, given its intriguing premise, attracted many male readers as well.

    Recently, there had been delays in her releases, but with two volumes arriving at once, there was no room for complaints.

    “Excellent, excellent. I can already hear the money rolling in. Send them straight to the printers.”

    “Sir, there’s something I didn’t get to mention...”

    “Hm? What’s that?”

    Matthew hesitated before cautiously responding.

    “About the printing press in the Duchy of Velua...”

    “What about it? Something happened?”

    Musk’s unease grew.

    The Duchy of Velua was a neutral state, serving as a key hub for global trade.

    Any disruption there could severely impact worldwide commerce.

    Knowing this, Musk had invested heavily, setting up a printing press there to save on shipping costs.

    “It collapsed due to a terrorist attack.”

    As expected, Musk’s fears were confirmed.

    Hearing this, his head throbbed, but he knew he needed to get the full story. With a trembling voice, he asked:

    “Who did it?”

    “A demon worshipper detonated themselves.”

    “...Ha.”

    It was too obvious to even laugh at. Unable to target Isaac directly, they were likely trying to disrupt the spread of The Chronicles of Zenon.

    This setback was Musk’s burden to bear. A hit to the Velua branch, of all places, gave him a severe headache.

    “What about the staff there?”

    “There were five casualties. Two, unfortunately, didn’t make it...”

    “...Send three gold ingots as compensation along with a letter.”

    Money could solve many problems, but not all. No amount of gold could bring back the dead.

    The real concern was that this might not be the last. Other branches could face similar attacks. If they couldn’t strike the head, they’d aim for the limbs.

    This was nothing short of a declaration of war. Musk stood abruptly, issuing orders to Matthew.

    “Prepare the carriage. We’re heading to the estate. I can’t handle this alone.”

    “Do you have any plans in mind?”

    “None.”

    “...What?”

    Seeing Matthew’s bewilderment, Musk smirked reassuringly.

    “But we have money.”

    “...?”

    “So just follow me.”

    Though Matthew had no idea what Musk was plotting, he silently followed.