Slane Theocracy, border military camp.
News of the war's end spread like wildfire across the entire front.
It wasn't done through official channels; the official documents are still on the Cardinal's desk awaiting his signature.
Instead, it was through the oldest and most effective means: word of mouth among soldiers.
"Have you heard? The Elf King is dead."
"Dead? How did he die?"
"I don't know. But it's said that the Slane Theocracy wasn't behind it."
"Then who else could it be?"
"I don't know. But some people say that a group of people walked past the battlefield a few days ago. They just walked past. No one saw them, and no one stopped them."
"... Are you drunk?"
"I swear in the name of the Six Great Gods, every word I have said is true."
Similar conversations played out repeatedly between tents, around campfires, and by the well. No one knew the truth, but everyone was talking about it.
The frontline commander stood at the entrance of his tent, gazing at the silent forest in the distance.
The Elf Kingdom warriors gathered at the edge of the forest, but did not attack. Their banners were still flying, but their posture had changed.
It's not an attack, it's a defense.
No, it doesn't even qualify as defense.
They are waiting.
Waiting for what? The commander didn't know.
But he knew one thing.
The war has truly ended.
He turned and walked back to his tent, sat down at the table, picked up a quill pen, dipped it in ink, and began to write a letter.
Recipient: Cardinal Raymond Zarg Zach Rodel.
Content: Everything is calm at the front. The Elf Kingdom has not made any new military moves. It is recommended to maintain the current situation and refrain from launching any preemptive strikes.
After he finished writing, he folded the letter, put it in an envelope, and sealed it with sealing wax.
"Someone come here."
"Exist."
"Send it to the Divine Capital immediately."
"Yes."
The messenger took the letter, turned, and ran out of the tent. The sound of horses' hooves gradually faded into the twilight.
The commander leaned back in his chair, looked up at the tent ceiling, and let out a long breath.
It's been over a hundred years.
This war, which lasted for over a century, has finally come to an end.
It wasn't the Slane Theocracy that won.
It wasn't the Elf Kingdom that won.
But it's over.
That's enough.
The Elf Kingdom, its Royal Capital.
The bloodstains in the main hall have been cleaned up.
The root-woven floor was polished to a shine, new magic lamps hung from the intertwined branches of the ceiling, and the ancient runes carved on the tree trunk walls were repainted with gold, shimmering with a warm glow under the lights.
Everything looks the same as before.
But everything is different now.
The "Elf King" sat on the throne.
Her long golden hair cascaded over her shoulders, her emerald green eyes were narrow and sharp, she wore a strange crown, white armor with gold trim, and a red cloak draped over her shoulders, spreading out on a chair woven from tree roots.
Exactly the same as the previous Elf King.
But the person sitting on the throne is no longer the same.
Doppelganger.
The substitute left behind by Higashino Makoto.
Its task is simple: to maintain stability in the country until a new Elf King is chosen.
"Pass down the order."
"The Elf King" spoke, his voice deep and languid, exactly like the original Elf King.
"Cease all military operations. Recall all troops at the front."
The Elf Kingdom warriors standing in the hall looked at each other in bewilderment.
"His Majesty..."
An older Elf Kingdom warrior stepped forward and knelt on one knee.
"The Slane Theocracy is still on the border—"
"I said, recall."
The "Elf King" interrupted him, his emerald green eyes fixed on him without any emotion.
"The war is over. There's no need to fight anymore."
The hall fell silent for a moment.
Then, the older Elf Kingdom warrior lowered his head.
"Yes, sir."
He stood up, took a few steps back, turned and walked out of the main hall.
The other Elf Kingdom warriors watched his retreating figure, then glanced at the "Elf King" on the throne. After a moment's hesitation, they all knelt on one knee and bowed their heads.
"Yes, sir."
They stood up one by one and left the hall.
The footsteps faded into the distance, disappearing at the end of the corridor.
Only the "Elf King" remained in the main hall.
It leaned against the throne, gazing at the empty hall, a slight smile playing on its lips.
"First command complete."
It spoke softly, its tone devoid of pride or excitement, only a calm relaxation that came after completing its task.
Then it closed its eyes and began to wait for the next command.
Three days later, in the Elf King, in the council chamber.
The "Elf King" sat in the main seat, with the Elf Kingdom's high-ranking officials seated on either side of the long table before him.
The army commander, the forest priest, the royal steward, and several senior tribal chiefs.
Although these people never caught the eye of the true Elf King, and he didn't even know their names.
Their expressions varied. Some were nervous, some expectant, some confused, and some wary.
But no one spoke. Everyone looked at the man on the throne, waiting for him to speak.
"From this day forward, the harem is dissolved."
The Elf King's first words were like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating huge ripples.
"His Majesty!"
The royal butler was the first to stand up, his white beard trembling.
"The harem is --"
"It's a bottomless pit of wasteful resources."
The "Elf King" interrupted him, his emerald green eyes looking at him calmly.
"Dissolve the harem and release all women. They can go home, they can stay and work in the palace, they can go wherever they want. This is an order."
The royal butler's lips trembled as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he said nothing.
He lowered his head and sat back down in his chair.
"Second."
"The Elf King" continued.
"Stop the selection program. I no longer need superior mothers to reproduce, and my children and people no longer need to go to the battlefield for selection."
This time, it was the army commander who stood up.
A middle-aged male Elf Kingdom with a scar on his face that ran from his forehead to his chin, and who had lost sight in his left eye in battle, wearing a black eyepatch.
"Your Majesty, I dare to ask—"
His voice was low and restrained, but one could hear the suppressed emotions within it.
"Why?"
The "Elf King" looked at him for two seconds.
"You don't need to know, just obey my orders..."
"His Majesty--"
"Follow orders. I made a mistake before, but it's not too late to cut my losses."
The Elf King's voice remained calm, but every word was like a knife.
"It's been over a hundred years."
"The Elf King" continued.
"How many young people has this country lost over the past century? How many children have their parents lost? How much of their childhood have those children lost? What have we gained?"
No one answered.
There's nothing there.
The "Elf King" answered for them.
We gained nothing but hatred and pain.
It paused.
"That's enough. There's no need to continue."
The council chamber remained quiet for a long time.
Then, the forest priest stood up.
She was a female Elf Kingdom who looked to be in her thirties, but was actually over three hundred years old.
Her long green hair was piled on top of her head with a wooden hairpin, and she wore a priest's robe woven from leaves and vines.
"His Majesty."
Her voice was gentle and calm, with a reassuring quality.
"Everything else is fine, but if the Slane Theocracy— "
The Slane Theocracy will not attack.
The "Elf King" interrupted her.
"Why?"
"Because someone is preventing them from attacking."
The forest priest stared into the "Elf King's" eyes for a long time.
Who is that person?
The Elf King did not answer.
It simply leaned back in its chair, its emerald green eyes gazing at the ceiling.
"Unimportant."
It finally said.
"The important thing is that the war is over. Next, we need to rebuild this country. Not with the aim of 'selecting the strongest descendants,' but with the aim of 'letting the living Elf Kingdom live well.'"
The forest priest was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Understood."
She sat back in her chair, placed her hands on her knees, and straightened her back.
The "Elf King" looked around, his gaze sweeping over every face.
Does anyone else have any objections?
No one spoke.
"Very good."
The "Elf King" stood up.
"Execute the orders. Within three days, the harem must be disbanded. Within seven days, all frontline troops must be withdrawn. Within thirty days, I hope to see a preliminary plan for post-war reconstruction."
"Yes, sir."
Everyone stood up at the same time and knelt down on one knee.
Everyone felt something was strange, realizing that this emperor might not actually be the "Elf King".
But... who would care?