Chapter 209: Extra: Married Life/Percy from an Alternate Timeline Returns

Chapter 209: Extra – Married Life / Percy from the If Worldline Returns

A month after the wedding, the entire elf community was in a zombie-like trance.

The elder left the scene with a stiff face, clutching the wedding vows, only to walk straight into a tree. The younger elves hastily stood up, tripped over their own feet, and ended up eating dirt one after another. The elf community was plunged into unprecedented chaos.

The chaos wasn’t overt—they still woke up, patrolled, wove, and gathered fruits and flowers as usual. But upon closer inspection, beneath each elf’s calm expression lay barely contained hysteria, like a massive undercurrent lurking beneath a tranquil sea.

—WHAT THE ACTUAL—Lord Percy! What have you done?!

—Why is your partner Lord Elu?!

—What did you do to our Divine Matriarch?!

Why had their Divine Matriarch suddenly transformed into their Elven King’s consort?

Or… perhaps the Elven King’s husband?

In any case, the elves who had once visited the Elven King’s balcony, hoping to coax Elu out to play, now wished they could bury themselves alive in penance. And when Percy attended council meetings, the elders treated him like they were walking on eggshells.

After all, this was the god’s husband.

No one had ever imagined that the elf once spurned by the Divine Matriarch would now stand by the deity’s side, bound to him in an eternal bond.

The elders who had once given him a hard time became hermits overnight, while the remaining elders were sweating bullets, stealing glances at Percy’s expression from time to time.

Because of this, the Elven King could only heave a sigh. “There’s no need to overthink things. Just handle matters as usual. Our way of interacting won’t change just because of the wedding.”

Thus, the Festival Master Elder tentatively spoke up. “We’ve prepared many queenly attires for the queen… er, for Lord Elu, and were planning to throw a garden party to introduce him to the elf community. Is that still necessary?”

Based on prior information, the silver-haired beauty was an outsider. Since he had married the Elven King, it was only natural for him to integrate into elf society, and a garden party with refreshments would have been the perfect opportunity.

But now…

Even if the deity wanted to attend, no elf would dare to eat and drink casually at a garden party with the Divine Matriarch present!

Percy rubbed his temples in exasperation. “The robes… the robes can stay. The garden party isn’t necessary.”

Given the deity’s homebody nature and hatred of socializing, he probably wouldn’t want to attend a garden party anyway.

And so, that evening, the Elven King returned home carrying armloads of queenly attire.

Most of them ended up being worn by Percy himself.

Meanwhile, far away, the Succubus had no idea what had happened. He sent an urgent delivery to his father-in-law, shipping a box of miscellaneous items with a note: “All the latest trends on the continent, curated by yours truly! Give them a try—you’ll love them.”

Unfortunately, by the time the dwarven cargo arrived in elf territory, the Elven King wasn’t home, and the package was signed for by Elu.

The deity picked up a pair of scissors, opened the box, and stared blankly at a pile of bizarre contraptions—wonky-looking doohickeys, fluffy hair doodads, squiggly appendages with suction cups, and a bunch of runes and incantations with no clear purpose.

Elu flipped through the instruction scroll provided by the Succubus.

The deity tapped his chin and narrowed his eyes slightly.

Hmm. Sounded interesting.

And so, when the Elven King returned home, the deity eagerly suggested they test them out.

Percy could never say no to Elu—and this time was no exception.

He donned the queen's formal robes, then obediently lay upon the bed, watching as the deity unwrapped him from his garments like a gift.

Percy discovered for the first time that there were so many intoxicating sensations on the continent—pain, pleasure, surrender, and loss... but he couldn't deny that he somewhat enjoyed them.

When spent and limp against Elu, the god whispered softly, "Shall we do it on the Mother Tree?"

The succubus's instruction manual claimed that unlocking specific locations could enhance the experience.

For all elves, the Mother Tree was undoubtedly the most special place—the dwelling of the deity, the birthplace of elves before their existence, the lifeblood of all Pine Mountain, the holiest sanctuary.

Percy's breath caught.

But under the deity's luminous gaze, he nodded in agreement.

Most elven dwellings were wooden, with poor soundproofing, often requiring restraint. If things got slightly too intense, drawing whimpers from Percy, the Elven King would be too embarrassed to speak to him for hours.

But atop the tree canopy, surrounded by cicada songs and bird calls, this wasn’t an issue.

Through experience, Elu concluded that the succubus spoke truth.

Lying within the Mother Tree, Percy was more sensitive than usual, trembling at the slightest touch. In his haze, his emerald eyes gazed blankly out the window, where golden leaves swayed in the wind, their veins pulsing with divine essence.

He closed his eyes, no longer daring to look.

Elu kissed him gently. "Why fear gazing upon the divine essence, Percy? Now your womb cradles it too."

The Elven King’s face flushed pink as he bit his lower lip hard. The next second, Elu hissed in pain:

"Percy, that hurts—"

That hurt!

He’d never speak carelessly again. QAQ.

In an era reliant solely on word-of-mouth messages, news traveled slowly across the continent. The succubus, patrolling beyond Pine Mountain, only learned much later whom the Elven King had married. Before receiving the news, he had already sent numerous gifts to his father-in-law.

Elu accepted them all.

By reading through the succubus's instruction manual, Elu discovered that the continent had developed a new practice called roleplay.

The succubus had even considerately provided several costumes.

Elu began playing these roles with Percy.

For instance, Percy was a tyrannical monarch, and he was the helpless captive queen; or he was a princess about to marry another, while Percy was her loyal and pure captain of the guard; or today, he was the ruthless lord of the land, and Percy was the foreign swordsman who failed to assassinate him and became his plaything.

Elu raised Percy’s hands above his head, binding them to the bedpost with a wide silk ribbon.

Percy cooperated, striking a pose. Elu, in high spirits, was plotting his next move—unwrapping the "gift"—when suddenly, something felt off.

He sensed a ripple in space.

Though indolent and homebound, as one of the oldest deities, Elu’s power was unquestionable.

The last time something similar occurred was when System 66 arrived from afar.

Who was coming?

The deity's gaze fell upon his lover.

Percy was looking up at him, emerald eyes shimmering with confusion and helplessness.

The Elven King's last memory ended with the moment of his death.

Rejected by the Mother Tree and banished by his people, he had settled in the human town of South Lake. Then, he went into the heart of the Withering to investigate—and died there.

So why was he here now? Bound like this?

The moment he took in the sight before him, Percy's eyes widened. His fingers instinctively tightened, but all he could do was helplessly grip the binding straps.

—Elu was terrible at tying knots—his attempts were always messy, and this one was secured directly with a spell. Percy couldn’t break free.

What did Percy think was happening to him?

Looking down through the transparent dome, the distant valleys of Pine Mountain’s heartland rolled out in staggered layers, while nearby, the overlapping pale golden boughs of the Mother Tree stretched endlessly. Without a doubt, this was atop the elven Mother Tree. And the silver-haired deity before him, dressed more regally than any earthly ruler, could only be the Elven Mother God who despised him most—Eluvier.

After death, he had returned to the Mother Tree, hands bound above his head.

—An interrogation stance.

"……"

What had he done wrong? To be questioned and punished even after death?

And so, Elu watched helplessly as those emerald eyes trembled, lowered, and shimmered with tears.

Elu: "!"

He had never seen Percy like this before.

Elu panicked.

His fingers motioned through the air, and a soft golden glow spilled from his fingertips. The binding straps snapped apart soundlessly. Then, the deity sat on the edge of the bed, unfolding a soft blanket to wrap the elf entirely within it.

He didn’t even know exactly why he was doing this—only that Percy looked so distressed that Elu instinctively wanted to envelop him in the softest fabrics, to wrap him in cotton and down.

Percy curled his arms around himself, burrowing nearly completely into the blanket, as if the dim shelter could offer him some meager sense of security. All the deity could see now were a few strands of pale golden hair.

The Elven King’s hair was shorter than the deity’s—not long enough to drag on the ground, but still cascading past his hips. Normally, Percy would have braided it carefully before sleep, but now, he had no mind for such things, leaving it spilled across the floor.

...This wasn't *his* Percy yet. He had to be careful.

Elu gently tugged at the blanket, gathering the loose strands of hair, then patted the bundled elf through the fabric. "Percy?"

The blanket was wrapped so tightly it looked like a cocoon, and the elf showed no intention of emerging.

Elu lay down beside Percy, wrapping his arms around the "cocoon." Through the layers, he found the back of the Elven King’s head and gave it a gentle pat. "Percy, don’t panic. I don’t mean to hurt you. The reason you were tied up was…"

Elu struggled for words. "A misunderstanding."

What kind of experience was it to be in the middle of playful intimacy, only for a traumatized version of your partner to suddenly appear?

Truthfully, more than passion, Percy preferred the deity’s embraces—they gave him a tangible sense of being cherished. Elu pulled the cocoon closer. "Come out, alright?"

The body beneath his palm shifted slightly.

The deity murmured softly, "Percy… sweetheart?"

The breathing beneath the blankets hitched for two beats.

Elu thought to himself, "It really is the same person— even the terms that make him nervous are identical."

Meanwhile, soothed by the god's gentle presence, Percy finally noticed something was wrong.

Why was he on the bed?

Earlier, he had only noticed his hands being bound and his body in a kneeling position. In his foggy state, he hadn't even realized he was kneeling on the bed.

If they really hated him, he wouldn’t have been placed on a bed, right?

Wait...

Under no circumstances should he have been placed on a bed!

The Elven King froze completely.

It took him a long moment to regain his composure before he stammered, "M-Mother Goddess?"

Elu had already waved his hand, summoning a cup of honey-sweetened flower tea from the table—originally prepared for the exhausted and dehydrated Elven King, but it would work just as well to calm him now.

"Yes, it's me," Elu replied.

He thought it was strange—the Elven King had always been shy. Ever since *that* incident, Percy had refused to call him "Mother Goddess," always addressing him simply as "God." Later, as they grew accustomed to each other, he switched to calling him "Elu" directly.

Handing the cup to Percy, Elu couldn't help teasing: "I'm here. What does Mother Goddess’s precious one need?"

Percy broke into violent coughing.

He nearly spilled the entire cup of honey tea onto Elu’s bedding, but thankfully, Elu caught his wrist just in time to avert disaster.

At the same time, Elu was secretly relieved.

...Thankfully he wasn't *inside* him right now. Given Percy’s intense reaction, he couldn't imagine how painful that would have been.

In any case, amid all this chaotic confusion, Percy started coming to his senses, his green eyes wide with confusion.

Elu set the teacup back on the table. "It's complicated—too much to explain now. I'll just show you the memories directly."

The god pressed his fingertip to the elf’s forehead, and memories came flooding in.

It all started when a system breached the barrier, rousing the slumbering god.

From there, it unfolded—how the god’s gaze fell upon the elf in the valley; how the elf had left, how the god pursued him, how they eventually reunited by the southern lake, how the elf died and was revived, and finally, the grand wedding that followed.

Within the memories, there were hazy blank spots.

"Sorry, I can't show you these parts," Elu said. "When *my* Percy comes back, he'd be upset."

Percy never scolded him outright. When angry, he would simply hug a pillow, leave the tree alone, and return to his dwelling in the valley, brooding under the moon for hours.

To the god, even Percy’s anger was endearing.

Images he'd never imagined now filled the elf’s mind, leaving him completely stunned.

Elu gave him a reassuring pat. "In short, no matter the space or time, Percy, I've never hated you. I was merely asleep. The same goes for your world—‘He’ must still be slumbering. Please don't drown in guilt or harm yourself. I believe that no matter which version of ‘me’ it is, they all love you."

"..."

The elf clutched the blanket tightly.

A long time passed before Elu heard a muffled "Mm."

The elf was now calm.

Then Elu went to get some cake and juice to bring to the elf. When he returned, however, he saw Percy examining the loosened ribbons, trying to retie them.

The deity's lips curled into a faint smile. "You're back?"

"I'm back. I left a letter for 'myself,' telling him how to start a conversation with you."

As he spoke, the elf had already adjusted the silk ribbons, tying his hands above his head again. "...Should we keep going?"

Elu: "Of course."