The Indomitable Martial King

“Are you telling me to leave you?”

“No.”

She slightly furrowed her brows as the conversation continued.

“I want you to stay by my side.”

It was a hard sentence to comprehend. She made a puzzled face. Repenhardt gave a bitter smile.

“I understand why you might feel that way. I can’t explain the circumstances, but you can understand them well enough.”

It would be useless to make sounds like talking in one’s sleep about going back in time; even Makelin, the wisest among the dwarves who could hear the voice of truth, didn’t believe him until he saw proof. He could endure being abandoned by a loved one, but he couldn’t bear being treated as a madman and despised.

All he could do now was to speak earnestly…

“There is nothing left to bind you now. I merely implore.”

He was not clinging to memories, but facing the delicate girl who clearly existed before him.

“I hope you will continue to be with me.”

Siris looked up at Repenhardt with a vacant gaze.

Her heart raced.

An unknown pain flowed from a corner of her heart.

She was certain.

This man was looking at her, speaking to her, unlike before, addressing her, the girl who was still immature, existing here and now.

After hesitating, Siris quietly replied.

“……Please give me some time to think.”

* * *

Shailen silently observed the situation. Her initial suspicion and fear of Repenhardt had long since dissipated. Watching them, she even felt assured that this large human truly did not consider elves to be slaves.

Suddenly, Repenhardt approached her with a weary gait. It was surprising that such a large, muscular man could appear so powerless. The depth of the young man’s heartache was palpable.

Repenhardt, glancing back and forth between Shailen and the two elf children, asked, “Can you return to the village?”

“Ah, if only you could lend us a camel…”

Repenhardt smirked and shook his head.

“It’s not ours to give permission for in the first place. If you want, you can take them all.”

Shailen’s eyes lit up at that moment.

The ten camels brought by the slave hunters were still idly wandering around them, a picture of leisure. For the Dahnhaim tribe, enduring harsh desert life, ten camels were a considerable asset. Moreover, the camel saddles were laden with water and food gathered by the slave hunters. No one could blame Shailen, even if uncharacteristic of an elf, for her greedy glance.

“Thank you for saving us, and even for this…”

She stuttered with emotion. Repenhardt, looking embarrassed, made a request.

“It’s not just for that… could you perhaps reunite this child with her family?”

He was pointing at Siris, who stood aloof some distance away. Shailen looked at her sister anew, wondering how she had come to meet someone who cared so deeply for her.

Interpreting her gaze as wary, Repenhardt quickly added,

“She is not my slave. She never was, and she is not now. There’s no risk of her revealing the location of your village to humans.”

Shailen had already decided to take Siris back to their tribe. Having observed the situation thus far, she couldn’t believe that either Repenhardt or Siris would harm them. It was just unnecessary worry.

Then it suddenly occurred to her that Repenhardt had excluded himself from his own request.

“Don’t you need to wait for her?”

“Yes, I will wait around here for a while.”

Repenhardt nodded weakly. Shailen smiled broadly.

“Come with us.”

“What?”

“You saved us. It would dishonor our tribe not to repay our benefactor.”

GPT

Shailen, having completely opened her heart, surprised Repenhardt with her words.

“Is it really alright to reveal the location of our hideout to someone else?”

“You can be trusted,” she replied calmly.

At Shailen’s response, Repenhardt clicked his tongue. How could she not have any sense of caution? Her indifference raised questions for him, but Shailen shook her head.

“If I bring that child along, it wouldn’t make any difference than bringing you.”

If Repenhardt had been pretending to be a slave to discover the location of the elf village, whether he took both or only Siris, the hideout would be compromised either way. Since he had permitted Siris, there was no reason Repenhardt couldn’t accompany her.

“And even if both of you refuse, you would find our hideout soon enough anyway.”

The Spelrat Desert was a land too harsh for people to inhabit. The places where one could live were severely limited. While outsiders might not know, Siris had spent her childhood here. With a bit of memory, she could easily recall a location the Dahnhaim tribe might use as a hideout. After all, there weren’t many places where elves could hide.

Repenhardt nodded, convinced by the explanation.

“That’s a rational way of thinking.”

“Elves are always rational.”

Humans were still not trustworthy, but given the circumstances, Shailen concluded that Repenhardt and Siris could be trusted.

Elves, unlike humans, are driven by logical decisions rather than emotions. It wasn’t strange for Shailen to come to such a conclusion after assessing the situation.

“Then we should get ready.”

Repenhardt raised his right hand, gathering the camels. Using a light mind control spell, ten camels lined up naturally, following his gestures as if led by a trainer. The children gawked in amazement around Repenhardt.

“Let’s go, Raiden, Netina.”

Shailen called the children and helped them onto the camels. The camels started moving slowly. The elf children cheered, riding a camel for the first time in their lives. After ensuring the children were secure, Shailen slowly approached Siris, who was walking silently in the middle of the column.

“Serendi…”

“Are you finally acknowledging me?”

Shailen soothed her with a slightly hurt voice.

“You would have done the same if you were in my position, right?”

“That’s true.”

Siris smiled faintly and nodded. Shailen apologized again and glanced back furtively. She murmured in awe, “I’ve met a good human.”

“Yes,” Siris replied instantly. Despite the complexities of their situation, she could not deny that meeting Repenhardt had been fortunate.

“He truly is a good person,” she added.

“Yes…” Shailen nodded understandingly.

“You even told him your name.”

“What?” Siris looked at Shailen, puzzled. Shailen shrugged.

“Didn’t you? He called you by your real name earlier.”

“Ah…” Siris’s face stiffened. The conversation they had just had, a detail she hadn’t noticed, came to mind.

Repenhardt had said it clearly: “Do as you wish, Siris, no, Serendi El Areliana.”

He had clearly stated it, her real name, one she herself had forgotten and thus would never have mentioned.

‘How is this possible…’ Her mind was a whirl of confusion. Seeing her dazed expression, Shailen looked concerned.

“Eh? What’s wrong, Serendi?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Siris shook her head and looked away. It was an explanation she herself couldn’t fathom and did not wish to discuss with Shailen. She glanced back to see Repenhardt trudging a short distance behind. She desperately wanted to run up and demand an explanation, but…

‘He probably won’t answer me anyway…’

After their recent argument, she wasn’t in the mood to start another conversation. Siris buried her questions in her heart and continued walking. The caravan of camels slowly crossed the desert, heading west.

In a vast gorge about 15 kilometers from the village of Gehallen, deep among the sprawling wastelands, the Danhaim clan was hiding. This barren gorge, a scar in the earth where life was hard to find, was where they concealed themselves.

Fifty years after a massive slave raid that decimated their people, the clan realized the necessity of a refuge to avoid repeating such nightmares, thus setting up a hiding place within this gorge.

The steep cliffs on either side of the gorge held tents made of animal hides and dried grass. Defensive positions constructed of sparkling bricks, made from melted sand into glassy bricks, lined hidden paths. All of these were camouflaged so well they were nearly undetectable unless examined closely.

Seen from afar, the gorge, constructed of crumbly sandstone and featuring steep cliffs, was entirely impenetrable and truly a fortress of trials. Indeed, if conditions had permitted, the village might have been relocated to this location.

The reason they could not was simple.

“The water is running out, Elder Relhardt.”

In a crude tent made of animal hides and coarse straw, a platinum-haired young elf was making a troubled face towards an older elf. The elder, Relhardt, closed his eyes and nodded.

“That would be so.”

Relhardt, who was three hundred and forty-three years old, was the oldest and the leader of the Dahnhaim clan. Even by elven standards of longevity, he was considered aged, but he appeared to be in his early forties by human standards.

Humans, who age visibly, would marvel at Relhardt’s maintained youthful appearance. However, for elves, who retain their young appearance until death, the concept of being elderly doesn’t really exist. That an elf has aged to appear middle-aged is a stark indication of the difficulties faced living in this harsh wilderness.

Relhardt sighed and asked the elf before him.

“How long can we last with the remaining water?”

“We could stretch it to a day at most if we conserve it.”

This was precisely why the gorge was nothing more than a hideout.

There was no water here.

Of course, the Dahnhaim clan had built a water reservoir. The desert does not lack rain all year round; it occasionally experiences fierce downpours. Known as sudden heavy rains, the problem is that such events are rare, and the arid desert cannot retain moisture unless it’s stored separately.

While the stored water was not sufficient for agriculture, it was enough to quench the thirst of those hiding in the refuge. However, the water had become considerably contaminated over time. Even if the sand of the desert filtered it and it received the blessing of spirits, it could only be purified enough for drinking. Yet, that would suffice for about two hundred people for a week, and that was just for drinking. It was nowhere near enough to sustain everyday life.