Vol 1 Chapter 6: The Distorted Truth (Great Labyrinth Arc)

“Why? Why? Why? Why did you let me help you? You’re an Ancient Elf, aren’t you?”

Since a while ago, you’ve been non-stop asking that, but it seems you’re not troubled by the issues I was worried about.

“—At least I’m glad that unchaining you didn’t suddenly trigger rapid aging and death, or unleash some hidden malice that goes completely out of control.”

Yuu, now free at last, suddenly looked as if she had realized this was all real. She rushed up to me, repeating “why, why” over and over.

What were those chains, anyway? She claimed they were uncuttable, but they were nothing more than ordinary chains that I could easily slice through.

Then again, for what reason were you confined here all alone? Why did you wish for death? How many years on earth did you really spend in this place?

I have far more questions I’d like to ask. But now that Yuu has been freed, she seems more expressive than before. Even in the darkness, I can clearly see her face and body.

Even though she spent over two hundred years here, her short, white hair still gives off a strangely soft, almost fluffy impression. And with her emotions now on display, her eyes—once only vaguely visible in the gloom—are unmistakably clear.

Her droopy eyes, which I initially thought were beautiful double-lidded greens, now appear rather dull.

Unlike the grimy elf slaves I’ve seen in the royal capital, her snow-white skin is pristine, making her look like nothing more than a slightly timid little girl.

Whether by blessing or sheer luck, she still wears her brown robe, white shirt, and black leather pants in surprisingly good condition. I’ve heard that wealthy connoisseurs sometimes take elves as brides instead of slaves—could this be what that looks like?

Yet the way she keeps asking “why, why” is entirely different. Now that she’s free and could go anywhere, she clings to me, repeatedly questioning why I set her free.

Fed up with her incessant questioning, I pulled her away slightly and asked in return,

“Then why shouldn’t I have helped you? Sure, prejudice against the elf race is strong, but you’re an Ancient Elf, right? You could just push anyone aside, escape from this underground dump, and live it up in some faraway forest.”

It shouldn’t be impossible. Sure, in the course of our escape you might have to stick with me for a bit, but once you’re out, you can make up for lost time—heal your emotional scars, even. Heck, you could even head to a country across the sea where no one cares about elf prejudice and finally be happy.

After all, you’ve been alive for more than two hundred years; surely you understand that.

But Yuu shook her head vigorously and, with tears gradually streaming down her face, her voice trembled with anguish,

“I have been denied existence…! I devoted myself to the world, to people and elves alike, even sacrificing everything that wasn’t me… yet the world, people, elves, and even demons rejected me. They cast me aside as unnecessary, oppressed me, and gave me nothing but despair, sealing me away in this darkness…!”

The words she wove were by no means the kind that could offer simple comfort.

Unable to find any words to say, I finally managed to utter only one phrase: “What happened?” as I watched Yuu tremble in tears.

Through her tears, Yuu said, “I am an unnecessary existence,” and began to recount events from several centuries ago, little by little.

Her manner was reminiscent of a confession—a painful appeal, as if she were rubbing her head against the ground before a god, begging for forgiveness.

But if a confession is meant to seek a god’s forgiveness, then as the one listening, I had to carefully absorb every word, chew them over in my mind, and consider whether to forgive the sins.

Above all, I had to atone for having driven her to suffer so much that she wept in anguish.

Yet the “truth” Yuu recounted was not something that could be simply forgiven or easily absolved.

Every tale told about the Ancient Elf was nothing but a fabrication.

“…Let me just sort this out in my head,” I said.

And so I began to organize everything she had spoken in my mind.

First, the Ancient Elf had originally been rushing across the world to prevent the burgeoning conflicts among humans, demons, and demi-humans. In the process, the tales that are now told were distorted by those who craved conflict.

The power of the Ancient Elf did not bring about the terrifying calamities described in those legends.

Sure, she could wield powerful magic, but she specialized in a unique form of sorcery unseen in other races; as one of the rare types among the elves, she lived through endless time.

Back then, there were only a few dozen Ancient Elves, including Yuu, yet they were revered as leaders among the elf kind.

Even Yuu, who was very young at the time, apparently devoted herself to study for the sake of the elves.

Those Ancient Elves—and the strikingly beautiful elves like Yuu, both male and female—were exploited by those who desired conflict: the current Demon King and the human king of that time.

They secretly colluded, asking them to use their unique power and striking beauty to help put an end to the fighting.

Kind-hearted Yuu and the other Ancient Elves of the past agreed, and with the elves in tow, they went about quelling conflicts all over the world.

At first, the power of the Ancient Elves “stripped away the ability to fight and ended the wars.”

Their power was complex; in simple terms, it was the “transfer of the inherent elements contained within all matter.”

To put it simply, imagine a swordsman and a mage clashing in battle.

Elements like hardness and sharpness would be transferred from the swordsman’s blade to the mage’s staff.

And from the mage’s staff, the element of magical power would be transferred to the sword.

Suddenly, the sword would absorb magical power—without any enchantment or catalyst—and lose its cutting edge and hardness, ceasing to function as a sword.

Likewise, the staff would lose its magical power and, even if it gained sharpness and hardness, would no longer be suitable for a mage to wield.

Within limits, that was the method used to end conflicts. If anyone resisted, the accompanying elves would silence them with bows or magic—merely by intimidation, never through outright attack.

Their goal was “to end interspecies conflict without bloodshed.” For that purpose, the kind-hearted Ancient Elves and their elf followers devoted themselves entirely.

They controlled every battlefield and every force, bringing an end to the fighting.

But these efforts were doomed to tragedy by the conspiracies of the Demon King and the human king.

The Ancient Elves were deliberately kept in the dark about which battlefields the demi-humans were destined to lose their strength.

Demi-humans were considered a minor race—neither human nor demon. They had no fixed motives or ideology, and no one could predict what they might do.

Yet, given their inherent strength and the distinctive way each race thought, they were a nuisance to both humans and demons.

Thus, the Demon King and the human king of that time branded the demi-humans as “vermin that ravage the land.”

Then, by employing the more numerous elves and the powerful Ancient Elves, they systematically weakened the overall strength of the demi-humans.

Before long, the demi-humans—having lost their ability to resist—declined steadily and came to be treated as slaves or serfs, as they are today.

In the end, humans and demons joined forces to trample upon the remaining elves.

They labeled the demi-humans as “barbarians” who attacked without regard for form or decorum, uniting them as a common enemy.

All of this was orchestrated under the guise of a conflict between a faction of humans and demons, all for the further prosperity of both races.

For humans, manufacturing standardized weapons and armor to combat a single enemy—demons—was a way to streamline their economy.

For demons, arming unruly monsters—beasts that wouldn’t even heed the Demon King’s orders—with such weaponry allowed humans to be dispatched to eliminate them and maintain order.

This was the “scenario” secretly devised by the Demon King and the human king of that time.

Even the Hero was nothing more than a pawn, manipulated into making people believe that demons were evil and enemies to be defeated.

And as Sieg has said, this scenario continues to this day.

Behind the scenes of this scenario, the Ancient Elves were resented, hated, and had their very existence denied—not only by their fellow elves but also by the demi-humans who were once their allies.

The Demon King and the human king, who had once interacted with smiles in the name of peace, naturally came to regard them as “no longer necessary” and rejected their existence.

As a result, the Ancient Elves became targets for every race; one by one, they were slain, leaving only Yuu behind.

Ironically, Yuu managed to escape until the current social order was established, but once she was captured, she was sealed away deep underground along with the chains meant to prevent her from taking her own life—under the notion that perhaps she might one day prove useful—and eventually, she was forgotten.

This is the twisted outcome that led Yuu, by chance meeting the Demon King and the current Hero Sieg, to confess her truth so agonizingly that she begged to be killed.