Gardenia’s Heart

Inside a properly sterilized white tent, several incredulous shouts began to rise one after another.

“That’s impossible, something like this is impossible!”

“I thought I would never have my hand again!”

“My leg! I can feel my leg!”

As the glow of hundreds of tiny green petals began to fade, a beautiful girl with golden hair placed her hand on the person lying on the next cot.

“[Blooming Embrace]”

Along with the words assuring that everything would be fine, the tent was once again filled with a powerful emerald light.

Slowly, the many green petals that formed covered the body of the bloodied man on the cot.

With a powerful and warm pulse whose sole purpose was to keep the existence before her alive, the air filled with the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. And, as if a miracle had been performed, the human who had been fighting for his life only a moment earlier sat up with such panic that everyone around him was startled.

“I-I… I’m alive?”

The blood-soaked bandages that once covered his arms fell onto the bed. All the pain that had ravaged his destroyed internal organs—barely keeping him alive—vanished. In genuine shock, the man who now had both arms again, after having been unconscious for weeks, looked desperately around him, trying to understand what had happened.

“Captain, you’re alive, man—damn it, you’re alive!”

“What!? What happened!?”

Watching the soldier who had thrown himself on top of him for a tearful embrace, the man who had just awakened could not have been more confused.

“Th-This… Eck! This doctor came and healed you! Everything’s going to be fine now!”

Struggling to understand the words that came out between sobs and tears, the middle-aged man finally managed to focus his eyes on the woman beside the bed.

Surrounded by many others who spoke endless words of gratitude, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life wore a gentle smile.

“It’s alright, you don’t need to thank me. Even with advanced potions, it’s impossible to regrow a severed limb from nothing. Since I’m here now, it’s simply my duty to help those who need me.”

Delicately tucking a strand of her golden hair behind her pointed ears, the lady—so graceful even while wearing heavy silver armor—had her cheeks slightly flushed with joy.

“Thank you for your help, Princess Elarielle!”

The shout that rose above all the others came from a single woman in a white lab coat.

Lowering her head as much as she could, the woman with pointed ears and black hair bowed before the high elf in her presence.

However, suddenly she felt a slender finger pressing beneath her chin, and in an instant she was looking up.

“You’re General Riari’s daughter… Klara, aren’t you?”

The lyrical voice, as gentle as the morning, was as warm as the emerald eyes that looked her up and down.

Caught completely off guard, Klara—standing on the tips of her toes—watched the beautiful face only centimeters away as it studied her. The scent of flowers, as soft as the magic the woman had used moments earlier, filled her senses.

“As the only elf with medical knowledge in this rear unit, you had to deal with all the wounded who arrived by yourself. Know that I am very proud of you for all your hard work.”

Hearing the princess of her kingdom say those words made the corners of Klara’s eyes sting. Her chest was filled with such powerful emotion that she knew she would cry in moments—but before she could give in to her tears, she felt her shoulders being gently grasped by the high elf.

“Everyone, don’t forget. Those who had a limb restored will still need intensive physical therapy to be able to use that new limb properly. Anyone who had an organ recreated will need examinations to ensure the body has adapted well.” Holding Klara’s shoulders, Elarielle pulled the black-haired woman slightly closer before looking at all the patients in the infirmary. “Listen carefully to everything Doctor Klara tells you and you’ll be fine, understood?”

It didn’t take even a second for the excited shouts of those whose lives had been saved to fill the place.

“Yes, Princess!!”

Smiling as she saw everyone so spirited, Elarielle left the medical tent and was greeted by the sunlight of the forest.

The Valley of Dawn was not exactly a pleasant place to be. Thorny trees and generally unwelcoming flora made the landscape far from enjoyable for daily life. Dangerous monsters with an intense thirst for blood could attack at any moment, so even while resting everyone still had to remain on guard.

Because of this, even at the outpost she might need to act immediately. Thus, even while eating or resting, she had to keep her armor on and her amber axe ready.

Walking along the dirt roads built inside the camp, Elarielle observed the general structure of the place she had just arrived at.

Meticulously assembled tents offered shelter to the soldiers, and the smell of food drifting through the air showed that lunch would be served soon. Although the camp was composed mostly of humans, the high elf still received a few waves from groups of elves as she walked.

Noticing a group of humans using improvised instruments to play music, the princess in silver armor approached them.

“We’re close to an infirmary, so keep the noise to a minimum, alright?” Leaning her body forward, placing her index finger over her lips and giving a wink, Elarielle watched as everyone playing—both men and women—fell backward with flushed cheeks.

Smiling, Elarielle continued walking until she finally reached a large tent. Two guards stood at the entrance, but upon seeing her approach, they stepped aside and allowed her to pass.

“Soldier Elarielle reporting!”

Performing a military salute, the golden-haired elf stood at attention before the two individuals seated at the large wooden table in front of her.

Sitting closer to the entrance, an elf with golden hair softly graying at the roots studied several maps spread before her. In the areas her armor did not cover, her well-defined physique was visible. Despite her advanced age, she exuded such an intense aura that Elarielle could feel every hair on her body stand on end, becoming alert.

Her emerald eyes had crescent-moon-shaped pupils. Like precious gems, those eyes observed the girl entering the tent. Atop her head rested a golden crown studded with gemstones.

Even though she was her mother, they were on the battlefield, so she could not address her informally. Here, she was her commander—the aura she radiated made that perfectly clear.

“At ease.”

However, the firm voice that followed did not come from the woman in front of her.

On the other end of the room, a single man in a black combat suit stared at the very core of her existence with eyes that bore vertical pupils.

Short indigo hair left a single horn protruding from his forehead exposed. Four platinum wings swayed gently on his back, and a long scaled tail extended behind him.

This was the first time she had seen that dragon in person. Although he remained silent, she knew from that cold gaze and the pressure weighing on her shoulders that she was being evaluated.

“General Virelia, General Fafnir, I received the urgent message and came from the North immediately. Am I really being separated from my current squad? Have my results been unsatisfactory in some way?”

Careful with every word she spoke, Elarielle tried to discover the reason for her summons.

“Elarielle, your performance in the conflict in the dwarven kingdom was commendable.” Looking over the reports on her desk, Virelia spoke with a faint note of satisfaction in her voice. “You stepped onto the battlefield for the first time less than two weeks ago, and your results have been extraordinary.”

Continuing to flip through the documents spread across the table, Virelia turned toward her daughter.

“All the critically wounded in the field hospitals you visited were stabilized, and even while engaging directly in conflict against monsters and demons, not a single member of your squad of over a hundred soldiers died in any of the battles initiated, thanks to your healing magic.”

For a novice, her achievements were exceptional. No—even for a veteran, each of her actions up until that point was far beyond the norm.

Having accomplished so many feats, there should have been no dissatisfaction that would lead to her being removed from her post in the North.

“Then… why…?” Elarielle asked quietly, unease evident in her voice.

“We are trying to develop an elite group.”

The voice carrying a lethal coldness came from Fafnir.

Turning her gaze toward the four-winged dragon, Elarielle felt her body tremble slightly when the man rose from his seat.

“This idea has been discussed among the generals for some time now, and we are finally beginning to see that it may be possible.”

Walking around the large circular wooden table, the indigo-haired dragon approached the elf. With his hands behind his back and a perfect posture, the tall man looked at her with intensity.

“This will be a team of individuals specialized in carrying out special, high-risk operations where failure cannot be allowed under any circumstances. It will be a unit in which nothing less than absolute success will be expected.”

Words that sounded almost excessively optimistic—nearly utopian for a battlefield—felt like crushing pressure on the confused elf.

Exchanging a discreet glance with her mother, who gave a small nod, Elarielle swallowed.

“Sir, with all due respect, you don’t seem to be telling me this to ask for my opinion… don’t tell me that—?”

“You will be part of this team.”

An unpleasant panic began to invade her chest.

“Please, wait. As General Virelia said, I’ve only been here for less than two weeks.” She stood before her generals. Even though he belonged to another race, she needed to show respect, so despite her panic, she did her best to explain her point of view without raising her voice or sounding arrogant. “There are other elves who have been fighting for years who would be far more capable and experienced on the battlefield than I am.”

“Elarielle, you have already proven yourself more than worthy of bearing such responsibility.” Fafnir spoke with such intensity that the girl’s words became lodged in her throat. “Your ability to endure prolonged battles, along with your specialization in elven healing magic, makes you someone more than qualified for this task.”

Thanks to her presence, dozens of conflicts that would have ended in massacres were resolved without casualties.

Among all the elves with healing abilities, Elarielle was certainly superior. Whether she liked it or not, she would be the one chosen.

At that moment, she knew that continuing to protest would accomplish nothing. From the beginning, her opinion had never truly mattered.

“If I may ask, who else will be part of it?” she asked reluctantly, trying to gather more information.

Stepping away from the elf, Fafnir returned to his seat. Resting his arms on the table, he spoke again.

“We are planning to form a team of five individuals. At the moment, including you, we already have four selected members. In addition to General Virelia, who will act in long-range attack and as the strategist, one of the dragons, Bahamut—who is currently on the front lines—has also been selected to join this group.”

So her mother had also been chosen for this.

Among the elves, TheSage, Virelia, was certainly suited for this role. Beyond her wisdom, the current queen also possessed the ability of precognition, allowing her to see the future.

Bahamut—although she had not met that dragon in person yet—was someone whose strength she knew well.

To have been chosen alongside people like them meant she had certainly earned recognition despite her short time of service. Even though she still had doubts given the weight of such a task, she could not help but hide a faint smile.

“General Fafnir… and the other one?”

According to the general’s words, the group would have a total of five members. With four already chosen, Elarielle wanted to know who the other remarkable individual would be.

“He is the heir of the Alocasia family, which currently leads the human council.”

However, the words she had been so eager to hear made her stomach turn cold.

“Wait, General… you’re not referring to The Mad Slaughter, are you?”

Just as she knew Bahamut because of her feats spreading across the battlefield, the elf also knew of that particular person—even if she had never heard his actual name directly.

“Even for a human, his display of magic and mana control is unprecedented.” Looking at a document on the table, Fafnir cast a cold glance toward Elarielle. “He managed, alone, to hunt down and kill the eighth Twilight. That is a feat extremely worthy of attention.”

“But isn’t it also said that every team and captain who tried to work with him ended up being wiped out?”

Elarielle pointed out, but the voice that followed struck her like a hammer to the head.

“Exactly.”

The elf swallowed hard once more, pressing her lips together.

A military asset valuable enough that he was not removed from the battlefield even after committing atrocities.

Instead of punishing him, they were assembling a team of people who could survive at his side. As the greatest healer among the allied forces, Fafnir was essentially saying that she had been placed on the team as a way to prevent any extreme actions from the human mage.

Her mother’s expression also made it clear that she did not fully agree with the choice. However, not only could she not show favoritism toward her daughter, she also could not deny that, from a cold and strategic perspective, it was an effective decision.

War was a situation where feelings had to be set aside. If keeping that man meant bringing the war closer to its end, they would do it.

Besides, if she could place Elarielle in that team for this reason, despite the danger, she would at least be able to keep an eye on her daughter. The elf was certain that was what was going through her mother’s mind.

“We planned to summon you to explain all of this once the conflicts in the North had ended, but something urgent came up.” Calling her daughter, Virelia extended a sealed document, which the elf soon took. “This document contains the details of the urgent mission you two have been assigned.”

“Two?” Elarielle repeated, confused.

“The heir of the Alocasia family is also in this camp. It may be sudden, but Elarielle, you will be joining him to carry out this mission,” Fafnir replied to the confused girl. “Even though he is your senior, for this mission you will hold the position of team leader and may make whatever decisions you deem appropriate and reasonable. Dismissed.”

Finishing the conversation without any room for questions, Elarielle found herself walking out of the tent while gripping the document tightly in her hands.

Walking deeper into the forest and crouching on the ground, the girl—covered in a light cold sweat—hid her head between her legs.

“A mission where nothing less than absolute success is expected…”

Elarielle swallowed hard, panic rising within her heart.

This was bad—extremely bad.

It wasn’t just a change of battalion. From one day to the next, she had taken on a role of immense responsibility.

“Thelira…”

If she could follow her own wishes, she would return immediately to the elven forest to see her younger sister.

She didn’t want that responsibility. She wanted to be home, taking care of her beloved little sister.

“And on top of that, I was chosen to clean up his mess.”

Furrowing her brows, the girl swallowed the irritated shout that nearly escaped her throat so she wouldn’t attract the attention of the guards on patrol. She jumped to her feet in a single motion.

The situation was bad, but not impossible.

As long as she didn’t mess everything up, she could find a way to get through this. She knew she could.

First, she needed to find the heir of the Alocasia family. Despite everything, he was still a human, so perhaps she could get along with him. Secondly, it wasn’t as if every horrible story about him had to be true—she should at least give him a chance.

Unlike many other elves, Elarielle did not harbor hatred toward humanity as a whole. She knew the complications that had existed between elves and humans in the past. But here, on this battlefield, those differences had to be set aside.

After asking several people, she soon discovered where the man might be.

Apparently, he had not even entered his tent since arriving and was now wandering near a wood-gathering area of the forest for the camp.

Making sure to keep a smile on her face, Elarielle walked along the dirt road until she reached a zone filled with cut logs waiting to be processed.

The strong scent of wood filled the air, mixed with the scattered fragments covering the ground.

The workers seemed to have gone to lunch, as only their tools remained behind.

The work area was not very large, since the uneven vegetation made the job difficult. Because of that, it didn’t take long for her to notice a presence sitting atop several stacked logs nearly a hundred meters away.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Lophantera Elarielle Phaea—!?”

Elarielle never finished her sentence.

Was it irrational, or a miracle of instinct? It didn’t matter.

Gathering every ounce of strength to move faster than she ever had in her life, the girl concentrated all of her mana into her arms.

It was coming straight for her back.

She didn’t know what it was.

But she knew one thing.

If she tried to block that attack… she would die.

Twisting her body so violently it threatened to tear her waist apart, Elarielle swung her left arm to strike away what would have ended her life.

With a sonic echo, the sound of metal being destroyed rang through the forest, along with the blood that burst from her mouth.

Throwing the chestplate of her armor onto the ground, Elarielle—her left arm completely ruined—quickly spat the red liquid from her throat.

Dropping to her knees, countless green petals covered her body, the emerald glow slowly restoring her shattered flesh and bones.

“Oh… you protected your vital organs by redirecting my strike to your ribs?”

The emotionless voice carried a faint trace of surprise.

Although blood continued to spill from her mouth, Elarielle did her best to keep her body steady while she healed.

Raising her head, she looked at the figure standing before her.

As if it were the duty of the world itself to adjust to his pace, the solitary man stood completely still.

Long silver hair was tied into a ponytail, catching the daylight as it fell in soft, natural strands. His gaze, serene and unwavering, carried an absolute calm—almost apathetic. Two blue eyes, as clear as the sky, looked down at the elf with evident coldness.

His garments, blue and white, evoked a sense of tranquility. The long white cloak that draped over his shoulders and back was adorned with golden details that did not shout wealth, but clearly conveyed authority.

“For you to have survived that… you’re not half-bad after all.” Whispering as if the elf’s survival were an impressive surprise, he didn’t even raise an eyebrow before turning away and sitting down on one of the fallen logs.

“You were aiming for my heart?”

Watching the silver-haired young man, Elarielle—who had finally managed to stand—wiped the blood running from her mouth. The disbelief over what had just happened left her so confused that she couldn’t even feel anger.

“From zero to ten, you’re already at a two. That’s enough for you to stop being a bastard and become merely a clown. To accompany me… that’s acceptable.” Adjusting his white cloak and resting one leg on the log, the silver-haired man spoke in an expressionless tone.

“Two…? Clown… What?”

So many questions began piling up in her adrenaline-filled mind that Elarielle could barely process the words being thrown at her.

“I was informed I’d have a new group. Be glad, my esteemed clown—if it were only a one, I would have killed you for real already. I don’t walk around with trash, after all.” Unbothered by the elf’s confusion, the man let out a short laugh. “I’m in a good mood, so I’ll do you the favor of introducing myself.”

Swinging his arm so that his cloak fluttered slightly, his blue eyes met the elf’s.

“Consider yourself privileged to witness the dawn of this era, for everything you see and dare to imagine rests beneath my shadow.”

His voice remained cold, almost emotionless, but now carried a depth that made Elarielle—despite her confusion—instinctively become alert.

“I am Malus Alocasia, the one who will bring order to this chaotic and disordered treasure they call the world.”

Finishing his introduction, the silver-haired man crossed his legs atop the log.

“So, Alocasia—”

“Call me simply Malus. I’ll allow you that, elf clown.” Cutting her off immediately, Malus ordered while frowning. His words carried weight, but the minimal effort he put into saying them made his disregard for the situation obvious.

She didn’t like him.

Elarielle was absolutely certain she didn’t like him.

She had only met this man a few minutes ago, yet she was sure she disliked him from the depths of her being.

“Malus…?” She fought against all urges to curse and said that name.

“Very well. What mission do those old men want me to carry out now?”

Elarielle wanted to say that her mother was one of the people he was referring to so rudely, but she concluded it would be pointless.

That man didn’t seem interested in the opinions of others or in any form of respect. An argument would only delay their mission, so as the leader, she would have to swallow that frustration.

Even though she disliked him, he was now her teammate. She could go back to the generals and report what had just happened to try to get out of this, but that would destroy all the trust they had placed in her.

To succeed in this mission and win the war, she would have to figure out a way to deal with this man.

“We’re going to The Fall.”

Forcing a smile onto her face and opening the large map that had come with the envelope on the ground, the elf pointed to a specific location southeast of their current position.

“Scouts watching the maritime borders informed us that they found what appears to be one of the enemy’s research laboratories. We’re going to verify the information, because if it’s true, the chances of finally finding the Fifth Twilight are high.”

“Fifth? Which one is that?” Malus asked, still sitting.

His ignorance of such information made Elarielle widen her eyes. She rubbed her temples once before speaking again.

“The Fifth Twilight is Orlaith, The Soul Engraver. She has currently become the greatest threat on the front lines. Using her magic, she is capable of controlling monsters. Right now, she’s launching constant organized attacks using the calamity monsters born in Finis as a combat force.”

Looking at Malus—the man who had already killed one of the Twilights—Elarielle fixed her emerald eyes on his pale blue ones, trying to make him understand the importance of the mission.

“Several battalions that confronted her monsters directly disappeared without even their bodies being found. On top of that, reports say she is the mind behind the development of the enemy’s artifacts and military technology. She is currently the alliance’s highest-priority elimination target, and because of that, we are the ones being sent on this mission.”

A group from which only perfection was expected.

Even if there were only two of them.

This would be the first mission of what would become a legendary group carrying the hopes of everyone.

“We cannot fail.”