Chapter 193: Sleep

Chapter 193: Sleeping

The Elf King gazed at Ilu and spoke slowly, "There's a shadow of the elf race in your prescription. This method is never shared outside our kind. How did you come to know it?"

Ilu: "..."

He remained silent, busying himself with organizing the herbs, trying to brush off the question. However, Percy suddenly said, "Do you have elven blood?"

Ilu's movements paused.

This body he had crafted was put together casually, with some features of the elf race, such as the pale golden eyes and long hair, but also blended with other races, like the round ears of humans. Combined with his slender build and refined appearance, it was hard to discern his true lineage at first glance.

Ilu hadn't deliberately concealed anything. The traces of death aura on Percy's collarbone, if found on a human, would not be touched so casually.

Moreover, when he said he would help Percy tend to the flowers, they bloomed that very day, though they looked somewhat wilted, the speed was astonishing.

Lastly, the herbs he brought were from the heart of Pine Mountain. If not an elf, one wouldn't even recognize them, let alone understand their medicinal properties.

Each piece of evidence made it impossible to deny.

Ilu thought for a moment, "…Does it count?"

The Elven Mother Goddess, does that mean having elven blood…?

Percy frowned, "If you have elven blood, how did you end up working as a bartender in a tavern, and even get cornered by a human man in an alley? How old are you?"

Elves have long lifespans, making it impossible to guess their age by appearance.

Ilu: "..."

— Just a few dozen to a hundred thousand years, about seventy or eighty cycles older than you.

He said nervously, "T-twenties."

Twenty, barely an adult, still a young elf inexperienced in the world; it was normal for him to be no match for a grown man.

Percy’s furrowed brows relaxed, and he sighed softly, “No wonder.”

As he spoke, his gaze toward Yilu softened.

To the elves, with their long lifespans, twenty years were but a fleeting moment. It was the age when one should still be learning from elders, hunting at the forest's edge. Their skills were not yet refined, nor their minds fully matured. Such a young elf should not be left alone among humans.

Lost in thought, Percy’s gaze became complicated: “In the past twenty years, only one female elf has left Pine Mountain. She fell in love with a male succubus and was caught by the patrol a while ago, then confined back within the clan. Are you their child?”

Yilu: “…”

He knew about this, but Yilu did not involve himself in the internal affairs of the elves. He had merely heard about it and then turned away.

The elves practiced asceticism, shunned reproduction, and rejected physical desires, fearing that their souls might turn from pure white to gray-black. Over the years, the only one who had defied the clan’s rules and left without permission was this female elf.

Yilu said with difficulty, “I guess so?”

It seemed there was no other way but to admit it.

The only problem was that succubi were not well-regarded on the continent.

Succubi, sometimes called succubi in some places, were a race entirely opposite to the aloof and reclusive elves. They loved and enjoyed sex, seeking pleasure being their innate instinct. A succubus’s strength was even tied to the number and power of their lovers.

If they could share pleasure with a powerful elf, the succubus’s strength would increase. The racial talent of succubi was the ability to instantly identify suitable donors in a crowd.

In Nanhutown, there was no better candidate than the former Elven King.

Eilu: "..."

This way, his inexplicable approach to Percy and his odd act of bringing wine seemed to have a strange explanation.

Percy’s gaze towards him gradually became more complicated.

On one hand, as a half-elf with elven blood, Percy, being the former Elven King, should have taken him under his wing for protection. On the other hand, the young man also possessed succubus blood, being overly attentive with impure intentions.

"..."

"..."

They looked at each other in silence.

Percy hesitated to speak, while Eilu was speechless.

Finally, in the eerie atmosphere, Eilu broke the silence first: "I'll cook the medicine for you."

He carried the herbs into the kitchen and, with 66's help, barely managed to identify the utensils. Just as he was about to light the firestone, someone grabbed his collar and pulled him out of the kitchen.

Given the weakened state of the deity, Percy could easily drag him away, leaving Eilu powerless.

Percy settled the young half-elf outside the kitchen: "I’ll do it."

He skillfully struck the firestone, lit the stove, heated the crucible, and moved with such grace and expertise that he was far more proficient than Eilu.

While the medicine simmered, Percy stared at the rising white mist and said softly, "If you have those thoughts, don’t waste your time on me."

The Elf King had no intention of forming any intimate bonds or sharing pleasures with anyone.

Eilu: "..."

He struggled to defend himself, "I don't have such thoughts at the moment."

Percy, gauging the right moment, added the herbs and then turned to ask him, "Do you want me to teach you?"

"I can teach you how to find your way and hunt. Song Mountain is rich and fertile; even if you don't enter the elves' territory and only wander around the outskirts, you can still live a good life."

Elves are naturally drawn to the mountains and forests and should not be confined to serving guests in a small tavern.

Eilu: "..."

He replied tactfully, "Not for now, the work at the tavern is quite good."

Ha, making a frail deity carry a bow and arrow to hunt in Song Mountain would be better off letting him return to the Mother Tree sooner.

Percy: "Hmm."

He did not force the issue but said, "I'll leave you two incantations. If something like what happened with that man last time occurs again, you can tell me."

Then, the Elf King raised his hand and lightly touched the young elf's forehead twice, golden runes sinking into the skin, leaving faint marks.

Eilu nodded in satisfaction, thinking to himself, "Not bad."

This incantation was one of the most difficult spells, but Percy's execution was nearly perfect, even a deity could find no fault.

Truly worthy of being one of his favorite elves.

After leaving a mark on the half-elf's forehead, Percy calmly prepared and drank the medicine.

Then, under Iru's urging, Percy reluctantly unbuttoned his shirt, allowing the half-elf to observe the pattern of the necrotic energy.

In front of his kin, the Elven King let down his guard; he didn't need to worry about the necrotic energy corrupting young elves, as they had strong resistance and wouldn't be tainted unless they ventured deep into the Dead Zone.

Iru examined closely, and in the dim light of the cottage, he leaned forward, pressing his fingertips against the collar to expose more skin for a detailed inspection.

The medicine could only suppress, not alleviate, and as Iru observed, he became engrossed in the patch of skin, pondering solutions until the Elven King's ears turned a light pink, and he forcibly moved Iru's hand away, disappointing him as he withdrew his gaze.

He hadn't finished his study yet.

"Alright, I have a plan," Percy said, his burning ears hidden beneath his black robe. "You don't need to worry about this."

For a while after that, they fell into an odd routine.

Percy would leave early in the morning to delve into the Dead Zone and return home late at night; Iru would sleep until noon, then spend the afternoon in Pine Mountain, conversing with plants and animals to trace the source of the necrotic energy, and in the evening, he would work at the tavern. When it grew quiet at night, they would walk back to the courtyard together under the moonlight.

Iru would bring freshly picked herbs and leftovers from the tavern, occasionally some non-alcoholic drinks and juices. Amidst the bubbling of the cauldron, they would leisurely finish their juice, and then Percy would organize the day's clues, recording them in a ledger, while Iru returned to his own house to sleep.

He still stayed in the attic recommended by the innkeeper, as Percy's bed was too hard for him to get used to.

Days were monotonous, and Percy's records grew thicker, eventually filling two volumes. Iru also began to sketch out the source of the necrotic energy. Percy got used to the courtyard being lit every night, and Iru got used to undressing the Elven King daily to check the necrotic energy.

From the initial blushing of his ears and the pink tinge on his neck, Percy gradually adapted, able to watch the young man tear open his collar without any expression.

"Hmm, it's well suppressed," Iru nodded. "As long as you don't go deeper, just exploring should be fine."

Percy tugged at the corner of his mouth but remained silent.

The days passed as calmly as water, and the deity had almost grown accustomed to life among humans. However, one night, while he lay on the soft bed in the attic, he suddenly caught a whiff of something burning.

The air was scorching hot, and faint plumes of dark purple smoke could be seen rising, accompanied by the faint crackling of wood.

The god, housed in a human body, remained asleep, but 66 woke up first.

The little system rubbed its eyes, floated to the window, and looked down, instantly becoming fully awake.

Crimson flames shot up into the sky, turning half of it a fiery red. The fire originated from the attic, spreading outwards in a circle, engulfing nearly half the block in flames.

However, most other houses were built of stone, so the fire spread less there. Only the attic, made mostly of wood, burned fiercely.

66 jabbed the host frantically with its sharp finger: "Lord Ilu! Lord Ilu!"

The deity jolted awake from his dream, only to be choked by the smoke in the next second.

Ilu covered his mouth and nose, looking towards the stairs, which were completely blocked, making escape impossible for his human body.

66 flew anxiously around the attic, trying to find an escape route, but found none. The fire was spreading upwards from below, and several support beams on the ground floor had turned to black charcoal, nearly collapsing, putting the entire attic in grave danger.

It cursed, "Host, do you remember that guy who cornered you at the alley entrance? I saw him; it must have been him who set this fire!"

That man's arm had been pierced by Percy's arrow, leaving it almost useless. After emergency treatment, he managed to save it, though it remained unsteady. He had been sent to the town for medical care a few days ago and had only recently returned to South Lake.

Who knew that upon his return, trouble would follow.

Unable to find Percy's residence, the man had instead found Ilu's.

66 was on the verge of tears: "Host, what do we do? We can't get down at all."

Yilu embraced him, the deity's face was cold, yet surprisingly calm: "It doesn't matter, I won't die. The worst-case scenario is just returning to the Mother Tree."

Returning to the Mother Tree, he could create a new shell for himself. The only issue was that it would take a long time to emerge from Song Mountain, and how would he explain his disappearance of two months to Percy?

But the next second, the elf king's clear, cool voice sounded in his ear.

Percy said, "Come to the window."

Yilu was taken aback, only belatedly realizing it was a spell left by Percy.

This was too simple for a deity; Yilu had inadvertently forgotten.

Before he could react, Percy said again, "Open the window."

Yilu opened the window, the heat forcing him back a step, tears welling up in his eyes due to the intense heat. Through blurred vision, Yilu saw the elf king.

Slightly shorter than the attic was the town's small Gothic church, built of black rock with tall spires. Percy stood atop one of these spires, looking up at him.

The night wind stirred his robes, and Percy pointed at the window: "Jump down."

The fire had already spread to the top floor. Without hesitation, Yilu pulled open the window and leaped out. The elf king watched his descent, swift as a bird in flight. Before Yilu could even feel the fear of falling, he was caught.

The deity pressed his lips together, thinking, "Percy looks so slender, but he's really strong."

—Why should only he be the weak one when all the shells were crafted by him?

Because they had to save someone, the two were forced into an embrace. The deity, who hadn't left home in thousands of years, was revered by the elves but not often approached. Suddenly being tightly pressed against the elf king, Yilu felt a slight sense of novelty.

The deity's body temperature was low, as half of Song Mountain was above 3,000 meters, covered in perennial permafrost and glaciers. Yilu, the main deity of Song Mountain, also inherited this trait. Now, the other person's warmth seeped through the robes, weaving a fine, warm net. The deity closed his eyes contentedly, feeling as if he were soaking in a hot spring.

Every spring, when the snow melts on Song Mountain and all things come back to life, it feels much the same.

Yilu thought, "I like being close to Percy."

Just as he enjoyed the warm spring days of Song Mountain.

And it was clear that Percy hadn't been this close to anyone before; he felt uneasy, his posture slightly stiff. As soon as they landed, he immediately let go of Yilu, glanced at the fire, confirmed it wouldn't spread to the neighbors, and said, "Let's go, come home with me first."

People began to gather on the street, forming a circle around the area. The humidity in Nanhu was high, and with more people helping to extinguish the fire, the flames gradually diminished and were soon about to be put out.

As he spoke, Percy politely stepped back two paces.

Yilu frowned slightly.

To be honest, he hadn't had enough.

But Percy had already taken a step forward and walked toward the alley.

Yilu had no choice but to follow him. They returned to the small courtyard, where the same straw mattress lay on the hard board bed. Percy handed him some toiletries and went into another room.

Lying on the bed, Yilu tossed and turned.

The deity had lain on silk beds for thousands of years, in some ways even more delicate than the Princess and the Pea, unaccustomed to the straw bed. The last time, he had managed to sleep through the night only because he was feverish and delirious. Now, hugging the pillow and turning from side to side, he watched as dawn approached, still unable to fall asleep.

Just before the last starlight faded, Yilu suddenly sat up.

Drowsy, 66 asked, "Lord Yilu, what are you doing in the middle of the night?"

Yilu replied, "As the Mother Goddess, I demand that my creation serve as a pillow. Isn't that reasonable?"

66 yawned and muttered, "Mm-hmm... Huh?!"

He jolted awake.

The deity had already picked up the pillow, slipped on slippers, and crossed the corridor to stand at the door of the Elven King's room.

Inside, a lamp was lit, and through the yellowed glass, a figure could be faintly seen at the desk.

Percy was still writing.

Ilu raised his hand and knocked three times on the door.

The Elven King’s clear voice rang out, "What is it?"

Though Ilu lacked common sense, he wasn’t stupid. He knew that speaking directly would certainly be rejected, so this time he skillfully employed the techniques from the Hero’s Notebook.

Thus, 66 watched as the deity, with an icy expression and no hint of emotion, said, "I’m scared. I’m really afraid. Can I sleep with you?"

Author's note:

66: “…”