Chapter 390: If: Percy Returns 6

Chapter 390: Alternate Scenario – 6 Days After Percy's Return

Percy ventured deep into the Withering's core, each day pushing deeper and investigating longer. Relying on his light-footed grace, he dodged danger time and again. But on this day, he was careless and got gored in the abdomen by a deer’s antlers.

Infected by the Withering, the elk’s antlers were as sharp as blades, leaving a finger-deep gash. Blood seeped out as Percy tore off a piece of his clothing to make a makeshift bandage.

Seeing that night was falling and shadows writhed ahead, Percy wasted no time. He launched himself back to his small cabin, picked up the day’s desserts, and hurried off.

—If he didn’t return to the Mother Tree soon, he would be late.

The Elven King moved deftly through the trees, light as a songbird. Blood slowly seeped from his waist, the dull ache pulling with every movement, but Percy paid it no mind. Finally, nearly twenty minutes late, he landed on a branch of the Mother Tree.

Beyond the barrier, Elu was plucking at a quill.

He woke up on time every day, waiting for the Elven King’s offerings. Percy had always been punctual, arriving precisely when the first star appeared in the sky, carrying a tray of treats. Gradually, Elu had grown accustomed to his greetings.

He had grown used to Percy’s delicious desserts, to teasing the Elven King until his face flushed red, and to Percy’s restrained gratitude and goodnight wishes.

It had become the only thing worth looking forward to in his long slumber.

So why was he late today?

Just as Elu was practically burning holes through the barrier with his stare, nearly plucking the quill bare from impatience, the Elven King finally landed before the barrier.

Elu complained, “Tch, Percy, you’re so slow.”

“My apologies, Mother Goddess, for making you wait.” Percy replied evenly as he pushed the desserts through the barrier. “Here are today’s cake and drink. I hope you enjoy them.”

Elu carefully lifted his tangled hair and took the tray, asking, “Did something happen today?”

“Nothing at all. Everything went smoothly.” Percy replied softly. “I lost track of time and hope for your forgiveness.”

“Hmm, of course.” Elu picked up the cake and returned to the table, sighing as he gathered his long hair.

—His hair was far too long—not only tangled and unruly but also getting in the way of eating. The slightest carelessness would send strands dipping into his plate or drink.

Outside the barrier, Percy hadn’t left yet.

Though not one for words, he remembered the Water Mirror's advice—that the Mother Goddess was lonely and needed the company of an elf. Just then, the pain from his fresh wound and the exhaustion from days of travel flared up at once. So the Elven King sat down on the branch, gazing softly at the silhouette of the God within the barrier. Feeling it might be disrespectful, he averted his eyes and looked up at the full moon in the sky.

What he didn’t know was that the God was studying him too.

Elu thought, *This is truly a beautiful elf.*

Percy was unusually dressed in full hunting attire today, a longbow at his waist, the fitted outfit outlining every curve of his chest, abdomen, and legs. His pale golden hair was tied into a high ponytail, his handsome face unobstructed and fully visible, perfectly exemplified the aesthetic principles of three highs and four lows. It had even more visual impact than when left loose. Now, he sat with one knee bent on the Mother Tree’s branch, gazing toward the bright moon. Moonlight spilled over his brow and nose, casting a faint, a pool of moonlit shadow.

In short, an Elven King perfectly suited to a God’s tastes.

As the night breeze stirred, the ends of the Elven King’s hair swayed gently, and fireflies from the mountains alighted on the strands, shimmering like satin.

Elu looked up at the breathtakingly beautiful Percy, then down at his own messy, neglected hair.

“…”

He poked at his cake sullenly. “Percy, could you come in and help me brush my hair?”

“Hmm?” The dazed Elven King blinked, startled back to awareness, then stood up. “You mean…?”

He tentatively touched the barrier. “Would you like to pass your hair through?”

Elu: "Come inside."

How could he possibly pass his hair outside? It was cold and windy—did he expect Percy to sit on a tree trunk and comb his hair?

Percy's azure eyes widened abruptly, looking even more bewildered: "I come in?"

From the founding of the elven race until now, no elf had ever entered the abode of the Gods.

Elu: "Of course, I've already opened it."

Percy hesitated, raising his hand. His fingertips passed effortlessly through the barrier. He glanced down at his disheveled robes and long hair, hesitating as if wanting to tidy up a bit. But the next second, Elu grabbed his sleeve.

Elu: "Why are you just standing there? Come in."

With a slight tug, Percy obediently allowed himself to be pulled inside.

Then, he held his breath.

Aside from in the water mirror, this was the first time he had seen the Sovereign of Songshan, the God of the elven race, the Mother Goddess Eluvier.

A pure white robe, silver hair trailing to the ground, lashes lowered like falling snow—just one glance was enough to know this was Songshan's most beloved child.

Percy became stiff again.

Elu, meanwhile, casually finished the last bite of cake and handed over the comb: "Here."

He sat obediently, waiting for the Elven King to attend to his hair.

Percy held his breath as he lifted the silver strands of the Goddess.

The strands were cool and soft, brushing against his fingertips like a mountain breeze.

Afraid of hurting Elu, he was extremely careful. Elu tilted his head toward the mirror, watching the Elven King purse his lips as he wrestled with a stubborn tangle, intent and solemn as if holding precious jewels.

—In any case, it was utterly endearing.

"Percy," Elu said after watching his Elven King struggle with the knot for a long time, "you can use your belt knife to cut them off."

The Elven King carried a short knife at his waist for processing food in the wild.

Percy said quickly: "No."

Only after a full two seconds did he realize he had just refused the Mother Goddess's suggestion. Guiltily, he lowered his eyes. "Your hair is so beautiful. It would be a shame to cut it."

"Oh." Elu settled back properly, letting the Elven King continue his battle.

The only problem was, he was very sleepy.

Originally in a state of forced awakening, relying solely on sugar intake to sustain himself, now that the mealtime had passed, Elu was drowsy.

He stared into the mirror. The lower half of the Goddess's hair was a mess, fluffy like a cat's winter coat, and Percy had only managed to smooth out a third of it. It looked like it would take a long time.

So the Goddess asked casually: "Percy, can you sit on the bed?"

...What?

Percy froze, the comb in his hand. Then, uncontrollably, he recalled the last time he crossed over—when he had ended up directly on Elu's bed in the water mirror, his hands bound and pulled above his head, nearly coming undone under the Goddess's gaze. His thoughts whirled momentarily. But before his emotions could surge, leaving him at a loss, Elu spoke again:

"I want to sleep on the bed. Would you mind sitting there and combing for me?" Percy let out a sigh of complicated relief.

He took a step back, bowed politely with his right hand pressed to his chest, and said, "Of course, as you wish."

Then, he discreetly glanced at the Gods' soft, spacious bed and saw Elu patting the spot beside the pillow. "Sit here."

The Elven King walked over stiffly, limbs out of sync, and sat down.

Just as he was about to ask the Mother Goddess how she preferred her hair to be brushed, a fluffy, silver-haired head was already resting on his lap.

!!!

The Elven King’s expression went completely blank.

Elu didn’t understand why Percy’s thigh suddenly tensed up. He simply pulled the blanket over himself and said, "I’m going to sleep now."

As the Mother Goddess, surely it was reasonable to sleep on her creation’s lap and ask him to brush her hair?

His silver eyelashes lowered as he murmured, "This works for brushing, right?"

Percy took a deep breath. "Of course."

He tried desperately to divert his attention from the God’s strikingly beautiful face, lifting the ends of his long, trailing hair to begin combing again.

But Elu sensed something was off.

The Elf’s touch remained gentle, and his lap was comfortable—soft like his pillow. Yet, there was an off scent in the air.

A faint, iron-like scent—blood.

Elu glanced at Percy’s waist.

The wound had been tended to and concealed beneath his fitted attire, but Elu had keen senses—he could even discern honey’s floral origin by taste. Accustomed to the pure mountain air, the scent of blood stood out starkly.

The God opened his silver eyes and looked at his Elf. "Percy, is there something you haven’t told me today?"

"Hmm?" The Elven King was deeply focused on combing his hair. After a moment’s thought, he replied, "No, Mother Goddess. Everything’s been normal today... Ah—"

Before he could finish, Percy’s hand jerked, causing his waist to tremble slightly. The movement was enough for Elu, still resting on his lap, to feel the shiver run through his body.

The God pressed a fingertip against the spot just below his wound.

"You’re hiding something," Elu said.

Percy’s face paled. This was a dire accusation—one severe enough to earn the Mother Goddess’s displeasure again. He opened his mouth to explain, but before he could, Elu sat up and examined his waist with a cool gaze. "Remove this outer robe."

"...Yes."

Percy hesitated, lowering his eyes without another word. Stiffly, he fumbled with the sash of his robe, mechanically undoing the knots, his movements growing more and more flustered.

Elu’s pale fingers pushed aside the fabric, revealing the bloodstained bandage beneath. Percy hadn’t properly treated the wound, and after rushing to the Mother Tree, the hastily treated wound had reopened slightly, fresh blood staining the now-reddened bandage.

Elu asked, "How bad is it?"

Percy: "No, it’s very minor... Ah—"

The God gave him a warning glance, as if saying, *Go ahead, lie again.*

Percy fell silent.

His heart raced, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet the God’s eyes. He could only let Elu slowly unwind the bandage, exposing the wound beneath.

Elu: "What hit you?"

Percy explained dejectedly: "A deer."

Elu: "An ordinary deer? An ordinary deer couldn’t have done this to you."

"...A deer from the Withering’s edge."

Elu looked at him: "You went to investigate the Withering?"

"...Yes."

Elu: "You’re the Elven King. Why would they send you?"

The elves weren’t lacking powerful warriors. The Elven King’s duties were special—he usually stayed with the clan to command and make decisions. Only when the situation deteriorated beyond imagination would he personally investigate.

"I..." Percy faltered.

Before he could muster an excuse, the Gods narrowed their silver eyes slightly. "Hmm?"

"..."

The Elven King gave in: "I’m not the Elven King anymore."

He laid out what happened, then lowered his head in silence, looking like a guilty child.

Indeed, he should’ve reported the throne’s succession to the Gods.

But Elu asked instead: "So where are you staying now?"

"..."

"?"

Percy didn’t get why she was asking and only whispered: "In the forest, not far from here."

"How far exactly?"

"Uh... just half an hour away."

"Half an hour," Eluvier said flatly. "So you trek from the Withering’s edge, the Mother Tree, and your place every day just to bring me cake?"

"Yes..."

"What do you sleep on?"

Percy hesitated: "What? Sorry, Mother Goddess, I don’t follow..."

"You’re neither with the clan nor in human territory. Where did your bed and blankets come from?"

"Uh... tree trunks."

Percy’s voice shrank. He didn’t think it was a problem, but under that stare, he dared not speak, squirming under the pressure. He inched toward the bed’s edge, nearly toppling off.

Eluvier took a sharp breath.

The Gods said: "Hand me the leaf on the table."

Percy didn’t dare ask—or even tie his robe. Letting it hang open, he walked to the table, grabbed the leaf, and offered it up with both hands.

Elu pressed the leaf onto the wound.

The leaf dissolved into golden specks of light, merging into the flesh. With the aid of divine essence, the wound healed rapidly.

Having done this, Elu remained still.

The Mother Goddess sat quietly by the bedside, her white robe gathered around her, her downcast eyes like a solemn statue, lost in thought.

Percy grew more and more uncomfortable. After a stiff pause, he rose to take his leave. "Forgive me, Mother Goddess. The night has grown late. Please rest early. May I take my leave?"

When Percy had arrived, the moon was already high in the sky. Now, deep into the night, the elves had extinguished their candles, and the pine mountains lay in complete stillness. Only insect chirps and bird calls remained in the forest, adding to the serene stillness.

Elu shot him a cold look, her voice like ice. "The night is dark. Where do you intend to go if you leave now?"

"..."

Percy got goosebumps under that gaze, as though a wrong answer would invite dire consequences.

"Answer me. If you leave now, where do you plan to sleep?"

Percy recoiled slightly, his hairs standing on end. "...Tree...trunk."

Elu repeated tonelessly, "Tree trunk?"

"..."

Seeing the displeasure on the God's face, Percy gritted his teeth and quickly said, "I beg for your guidance."

Without the Mother Goddess' mediation, he couldn’t return to his kin for now. The human settlements were too far away—not only did Percy lack human currency, but the distance alone made it impossible for him to reach them tonight.

And so, the Elven King watched helplessly as the God extended a hand, pointing to the plush bed beside them.

The God said, "Here."