She Decided Not To Get Revenge

The sky continent of Camamita.

The continent and the water that surrounds it are joined and float above the sky.

According to legend, when the world below faced a terrible crisis, only the chosen were able to flee to that place under God’s benevolence and avoid suffering.

But it’s just an ancient legend, and for the people, Camamita was all in the world, and everything in Camamita was complete and they’re living a life that can be full with only the circulation in it.

Since only one island, Murta, was big enough to attain national authority, other islands became magnificent tourist resources for those living on the continent. 

Among them, the strange islands connected to the continent’s edge are the most popular. The ocean drains down the end of this flat ground.

Everything had to fall when it reached the edge. Even the boundless sea water, which has no concept where it comes from, flowed down, forming a mist and breaking apart and spreading it in the sky.

Because of the sheer volume, it was difficult to discern what was beyond the mist at the end of the sea. It was closer to heaven than it was to hell, and it was a death and hell wrapped in water fog to be termed heaven.

At the conclusion, looking down was generally accompanied by terror and wonder.

Some borrow magical power to observe the edge, only the vague and distant sky and the futile decay of the mist that has lost its contour like a moose can catch the view.

Those who stood there were terrified by the immensity and absence, yet they felt as if they had conquered the world.

People, though, were most likely unaware. The fact that a portion of the elves’ territory is located at the extreme end of the continent, and that portion is utilized as a site of execution.

It occurred almost 600 years ago.

Probably not till 700 years ago. A wicked half-elf who fooled the world and God, drew a dagger on his body, and demanded his own ‘mark’ was pushed down the cliff.

Towards the lost earth, a site only dreams and horror could describe, which had long since fallen.

A horrible scream, while the lemon-colored hair fluttered. The ‘mark’, which had lost its blue light, couldn’t fully control gravity. 

The half-elf, who sought to push his hand to hold what had not been wanted by High Elf nobles, slid down the path.

While being forced into the arms of those who push their brothers from the cliff, being pushed down on the floor and tied up, crawling on the ground to get there, High Elf Shaurillin, who resided on the battlefield, sobbed in despair. 

He can’t do it. 

He used his magic to drive the priests away and ran without hesitation, pushing his tear-stained face over the cliff.

He saw the faces of the brothers swallowed by the mist. 

Distorted. Painful. Terrible. Faint of despair. 

Purple eyes that resemble him and blonde hair in the color of a lemon tree fall in the sky. 

On the continent above the sky where no earth was seen, beyond the endless debris of the sea water that seemed to have spread tears. He was caught by someone again and dragged back then he cried over it. 

The boundaries of the sky were blurred by the mist that swallowed his brothers.

A half-elf, unable to control gravity, was thus executed. 

Decades later, Shaurilin was still as crazy as he had been before, then he was kidnapped and confined in the palace of Alves after an overwhelming defeat by King Ilinai. 

The elves regarded him as an unjust and heroic prisoner until the day he found his place and returned to the Holy Land, but the Alves believed otherwise.

He is never a prisoner, and individual-to-person friendship and humanity that the harsh and great immortal king would never give anyone were given to Elves not Alves. Thus, he was, repeatedly, never a prisoner.

The Alves called him “Ilinai’s beast, The wolf of the Blue Palace”.

A red-haired beast with frozen purple eyes covered with blood.

Two hundred years since the immortal high elf had left the Blue Palace and returned to the Holy Land, he departed and devoted himself to the land of humans.

Aside from his brother, who was executed at the end of the world, he was maybe the worst traitor.

I. The Iron-blooded Duchess.

                         v. The land of the humans.

Even Shaurillin was surprised by the daily tea session with Isaac Mandera.

Not only did he not anticipate getting close to Luke Mandera since Shaurillin doesn’t have a very peaceful connection with him, but regular people did not feel that close to the 400-year-old prime minister.

Few individuals had no respect for the great elf. No jealousy, no direction, no hatred, simply a person-to-person relationship. Even a simple chat appeared to separate them from the bizarre historical period.

As a result, Shaurillin had never considered establishing friendships with humans. After one of the few precedents in the last four hundred years has been crushed into its worst shape, it has become even more difficult to progress.

Shaurillin also believed that he would never befriend humans again. There was also a reason why he wouldn’t, but he also understood that no one would be his friend. There are no humans who are unaware of the outcome of the High Elf’s friendship.

It became clear to the rest of the world that there was no gracious leniency or flexibility to overlook a small amount of service in that friendship.

Isaac Mandera, on the other hand, was neither of them. 

Among the nine government agencies, the explorer’s department is the one that undertakes the most political work. Unlike Zilosurua, the production minister who left politics due to his origin, Isaac Mandera’s position was derived from his work.

He merely went on an adventure with the passion of an explorer, brought magic artifacts and treasures that would benefit the country, and filled the national treasury. 

Shaurillin pondered how the young man who replaced the Count sat in a seat with nothing left, and Isaac was basically that person.

He just said that he enjoyed Miro’s herbal tea and that he wished to experience the peace and quiet that he felt when sitting near Shaurillin. He frequently came to Shaurillin’s office before heading to work at the exploration hall because he was always earlier to work than the others. 

Then after he relaxes and enjoys a period of courtesy and tranquility. He would go gently after emptying a teacup round like a full moon in the hush of morning.

In other words, Isaac had a very human friendship with the High Elf. If it’s truly bizarre, that’s because he’s a strange person. 

Shaurillin would chuckle to himself whenever he saw Isaac sitting on the sofa in the silent office without saying anything, looking out on the terrace with a very content and tranquil smile on his face, and then turning back.

Isaac’s weirdness did not offend him. Perhaps Miro felt the same way, because the tea leaves Isaac received increasingly infused him with intense commitment and substantial investment as the days passed.

Shaurillin had no idea this was about to happen. 

Katlena’s magic is difficult to influence in this manner, since magic seldom works that way in the first place. He felt it would be his final encounter with Isaac Mandera until he revealed the methods developed from elf wisdom.

Isaac’s face was sad and pained, yet he seemed to be accepting it well. With his fading voice, Isaac stated that he would try to communicate properly with his brother and understand Luke’s admiration for Katlena.

However, the way Katlena manipulated Luke would still have been inappropriate. He apologized to Shaurillin, who was in charge of arbitration. Shaurillin, too, believed he couldn’t deny it.

Isaac is adamant about not using his beloved brother as a human weapon. As a result, he said that he understood. He understands the drive to accomplish whatever he can, no matter what it is or how much it differs from common sense.

And perhaps the answer served as an opportunity. Isaac, who heard the answer, just smiled passionately and asked a question again instead of answering.

“Minister, would it be okay to come and drink tea again tomorrow?”

That’s how the regular visits began. By the end of the week, Shaurillin had purposefully changed his schedule to an earlier time to ensure that Isaac’s arrival time was vacant. It was possible since he was unable to sleep in the morning.

Isaac’s arrival was postponed for another week. 

It was feasible since regular working hours were not strictly enforced. After about an hour to an hour and a half, they’d typically sit face to face and wait for the morning sunrise.

The conversation was hardly back and forth, and it was frequently interrupted by a five to ten minute daily speech. 

Sitting face to face for over an hour every day and just ten minutes every day. The talk was brief, and the subject was unimportant. They frequently sat face to face in deafening silence.

Furthermore, it did not appear uncomfortable or awkward. 

The exploration minister, who went to Shaurillin’s as an errand to give documents, had never been such a “comfortable” person, and Miro, who only met Isaac within Shaurillin’s office, felt it was a bit startling.

Miro was the first to notice, as he watched the weeks pass, that the young man was living with a feeling of rhythm similar to his master’s. 

It is the same speed as the High Elf, who has a shorter life than humans and spends their most wealthy years among the elves. He felt it would be a very leisurely existence, but he lifted his head with exaggerated fears that he would be uncomfortable living in a human country.

Shaurillin had the same impression. He was “like this” with a special history among elves, but he also understood it would not make humans feel at ease.

He remained convinced that Luke and Isaac Mandera’s story was unusual. That is, having to freeze his younger sibling alive cannot be a typical occurrence.

Isaac first brought back the topic about a month later, when the fallen leaves on the tree were generally gone and the temperature grew frigid.

As a result, the conversation was only extended on that particular day. 

The first sentence of the story was “Luke and I are two years apart.”