I Became a Cub in the Elven Kingdom

Fairies lived sheltered lives. From childhood, they were carefree, surrounded by the protection and affection of adult Fairies. Everything generally went smoothly for them, so in theory, they had nothing to worry about or fear.

Five Little Fairies, however, were different.

They had survived a life-threatening ordeal when they were still cubs.

Thirteen years ago, fifteen-year-old Kumandi had accompanied five-year-old Sperien, Dixio, Angel, and Budno on a journey with the adult Fairies to the southern Faerie Forest. They had gone to ask the amethyst tree for one of its branches, only to encounter pirates.

Among those pirates were a necromancer and several Dark Elves.

The adult Fairies had intercepted the necromancer on the beach, but the Dark Elves had secretly slipped into the forest, intending to abduct the Little Fairies.

What followed was a desperate struggle for survival against overwhelmingly superior opponents.

The innocent Little Fairies were hunted through the forest by the Dark Elves and nearly lost their lives. Fortunately, the Elven King arrived in time, killed the Dark Elves, and rescued them.

That terrifying experience had left a mark they would never forget.

So when they entered the nightmare, it was hardly surprising that their deepest fears resurfaced.

After being swallowed by darkness, Kumandi, Dixio, Angel, and Budno lost consciousness for a moment. When they came to, they discovered that their disguises had vanished. They had returned to their small Fairy forms and were standing in a pitch-black forest.

Then a cold, sinister voice sounded behind them, at once familiar and strangely distant.

”Little ones, there’s no escaping now.”

Kumandi looked back, and his pupils contracted sharply.

He had already been fifteen when he encountered the Dark Elves, and the memory had remained painfully vivid. Even after thirteen years, he had never forgotten those wicked crimson eyes.

They gleamed with an eerie light, like the eyes of a predator that had singled out its prey, brimming with savage cruelty and violence. The sight was enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine.

The fear buried deep in Kumandi’s heart erupted without warning.

He seized the hand of the petrified Budno and shouted, ”Run!”

Angel and Dixio had already frozen in terror at the sight of the Dark Elf. They hovered motionless in midair, too frightened even to react.

Only Kumandi’s shout snapped them out of it, and they hurried after him.

The Dark Elf pursued them, calling out threats as he went. His figure flickered in and out of sight, haunting them like a relentless specter, deliberately feeding the fleeing Fairies’ fear.

Budno burst into tears. Two enormous teardrops clung to the corners of his eyes. If Kumandi hadn’t been pulling him along, he wouldn’t have been able to fly at all.

”What do we do? What do we do? He’s catching up!”

”Don’t panic, don’t panic!” Angel reassured him. ”We have to stay calm. We can definitely lose him.”

”Do we have to keep running? Can’t we fight back?” Dixio asked, trembling.

”Don’t be ridiculous! We’re no match for him!” Budno said nervously.

Kumandi stared into the darkness ahead, his brows drawing together.

”Something’s wrong.”

”W-what’s wrong?” Budno asked.

”Someone’s missing,” Kumandi said.

Dixio looked equally confused. ”Who’s missing?”

Kumandi stopped so abruptly that Dixio and Angel nearly crashed into his back.

”Kumandi, aren’t we going to run anymore?” Angel asked anxiously, circling him.

”No.”

Kumandi released Budno’s hand, drew out his high-ranking magic staff, and pointed it at the approaching Dark Elf.

”W-why?” Budno asked, hiding behind him and trembling.

Kumandi answered calmly, ”Sperien is missing.”

Dixio let out a startled cry.

”That’s right! Where’s Sperien?”

Angel immediately drew his magic staff and began chanting a light-element defensive spell without a second thought.

By the time the Dark Elf approached, a glowing defensive formation had already enclosed all four Little Fairies.

Kumandi fixed the Dark Elf with a sharp gaze.

”I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re not cubs anymore. We don’t have to be afraid of him.”

Dixio and Budno suddenly came to their senses.

”That’s right! We’re not cubs anymore!”

They began chanting in unison, unleashing offensive spells at the Dark Elf.

The battle erupted.

Efit was an unusual Dark Elf.

His extraordinary talent had allowed him to overcome many of the obstacles that others faced while growing up. The discovery of an evil-purging remedy had enabled him to suppress the dark energy within his body at an early age. No longer influenced by violent impulses, he had maintained a calm disposition ever since.

Even after falling victim to the Demon Lord’s nightmare, he hadn’t succumbed to fear. Instead, he had protected the two young Dark Elves.

What Lanno and Lujia feared most wasn’t the near-death experience they had endured during the Trial in Uniba Swamp.

It was being abandoned by Efit.

The moment Efit held them tightly in his arms, their fear vanished, and their minds cleared.

”Efit, where are we?” Lujia asked in confusion.

”It’s so dark!” Lanno huddled closer against Efit’s chest.

”Don’t be afraid.” Efit held them close, soothing them. ”I believe that Demon Lord has trapped us with dark magic.”

Lujia shrank back a little.

”How do we get out?”

Efit considered the question.

”We need to find the Demon Lord’s true body and kill it.”

Lanno’s eyes widened.

”But that big monster can’t be killed!”

Efit fell silent for a long moment before saying softly, ”We still have to try.”

Ten-year-old Seriu raced through a gloomy passageway, his face contorted with terror, as though some dreadful monster were pursuing him.

”Hah... hah...”

Eventually, he could run no farther.

He leaned against a wall, gasping for breath.

Although the passageway was eerie, torches had been placed at intervals of ten meters to provide light. Seriu had stopped near one of them, and its orange flames illuminated his magnificent princely attire and his small, sweat-covered face.

He had originally been attending a banquet hosted by his royal uncle.

Out of curiosity, he had chased a black cat into this passageway, only to become lost as he wandered deeper inside.

When he decided to leave, he couldn’t find his way back.

After all, he was merely a pampered young prince. Attendants accompanied him whenever he went out, and he had almost never been left alone.

Now, trapped in a sinister underground passageway, he was thoroughly frightened.

He drew the sword hanging at his waist and cautiously continued forward.

Before long, he discovered what appeared to be a prison cell.

Why did he think it was a prison cell?

Because a large, rusty padlock hung from its iron door, which had a small barred window set into it. From inside came occasional low growls that sounded like those of a wild beast.

Puzzled, Seriu approached.

He wasn’t tall enough to see through the window, so he stood on tiptoe, stretching as high as he could to find out what sort of prisoner was locked inside.

He peered through the bars for quite some time but couldn’t make anything out.

Just as he decided to leave, a pair of deathly pale hands suddenly appeared against the bars.

”Ah!”

Seriu jumped in fright and stumbled several steps backward.

A gaunt, skeletal face pressed itself against the barred window.

Its slightly protruding eyes were threaded with blood-red veins and stared directly at him.

A chill ran down Seriu’s spine. Overwhelming fear welled up inside him as he tightened his grip on his sword.

”W-who are you?” he asked shakily.

It was a woman’s face.

Although she looked terribly haggard, traces of her former beauty were still visible.

”Dan... Dan... Danton... My child... Have you come to visit your mother?”

Longing filled the woman’s eyes. She clutched the iron bars excitedly, her voice emerging in a hoarse rasp.

”Good boy, let me out, won’t you? Mommy doesn’t blame you... Not one bit...”

Seriu stood frozen, listening to her words in bewilderment.

Danton?

Did she mean Uncle? Why was she calling herself his mother?

But Uncle’s mother would be my grandmother, wouldn’t she? And Grandmother... Grandmother died twenty years ago!

When Seriu failed to respond, the woman inside the cell suddenly went berserk.

”Aaaaaah!”

”Danton! You devil from hell! Get out of my belly! Aaaaaah!”

”No! No! I don’t want a child anymore!”

”Mother! Save me! Please save me! I don’t want to give birth to this child! He’s a devil!”

”Danton! Danton! Please, don’t hurt me! Sob... I’m your mother! Please, I’m begging you—”

Seriu backed away, his face filled with horror.

The woman’s hysterical screams terrified him.

Whether her words were true or false, they had struck fear deep into his heart.

He turned and fled as fast as he could, desperate to put the prison cell and the crazed woman behind him.

He couldn’t believe what she had said.

If she really was his grandmother, she ought to have been an elderly woman with a face full of wrinkles, not a young woman who looked barely twenty.

Besides, his grandmother’s portrait still hung on the palace wall, and she looked nothing like this woman.

Seriu ran frantically until he was gasping for breath.

Only when he could no longer hear the woman’s screams did he stop and lean against a wall to rest.

Once his breathing had steadied, he wiped the sweat from his face and continued onward.

After walking for some time, he turned a corner and entered a stone chamber.

Unlike the prison cell, this chamber was perfectly clean, with no strange people inside.

The only thing that drew his attention was a relief carved into the wall.

It depicted a handsome man wearing a crown and battle armor.

He stood with imposing dignity, both hands gripping the hilt of a sword whose tip rested against the ground. His resolute gaze was fixed straight ahead, and his entire figure radiated an overwhelming sense of power.

Seriu slowly approached, gazing up at the carving, utterly captivated by the man it portrayed.

Who was he?

Why had someone carved his likeness here, hidden away in this lightless underground passageway?

Seriu lowered his gaze and noticed a line of writing in the lower-right corner of the relief.

[Sade Trik]

This was...

Seriu’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Sade Trik!

A prince of the Kingdom of Cecilia and one of the protagonists of the famous Elven poem The Maiden and the Swordsman.

To protect an Elven maiden, Sade Trik had transformed himself into the Sword of Carlos and slain the villains who surrounded them.

His story had spread far and wide, and every citizen of Cecilia took pride in him.

However, after the War of the Gods, the Sword of Carlos had disappeared.

From that day onward, the people of Cecilia had been unable to sense the magical sword’s presence.

Seriu knelt before the relief and clasped his hands together, offering a devout prayer to the ancestor depicted upon it.

”Great Sade Trik, I am Seriu Trik, prince of Cecilia. Please grant me the strength to become the master of the Sword of Carlos!”

As though responding to his prayer, a beam of white light shot from the sword carved into the wall and plunged straight into Seriu’s forehead.

Agonizing pain split his head.

Seriu cried out and lost consciousness.

When he awoke, he was lying in his bedroom, and his mother was gently wiping his forehead with a damp towel.

Seeing him open his eyes, the queen burst into tears of joy.

”My child! You’re finally awake!”

”Mother... What happened to me?” Seriu asked, bewildered.

The queen embraced him and stroked his hair.

”You silly child! How could you run off on your own during the banquet? If Cecil hadn’t found you, you would have drowned in the lake!”

Seriu stared at her blankly.

”The lake?”

The ornamental lake at Uncle’s residence?

But I clearly went to...

Where did I go?

Ah! My head hurts!

”Seriu! Seriu, what’s wrong?”

Seeing him clutch his head in pain, the queen cried out in alarm.

”Physician! Someone fetch the physician!”

After a flurry of confusion and frantic activity, Seriu finally calmed down and was left to rest in bed.

The queen had matters to attend to and stepped away for a while, leaving only a maid in the bedroom to look after him.

Seriu leaned against his pillows, feeling drowsy.

His thoughts were muddled, and he had the unsettling impression that he had forgotten something important.

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door.

The maid went to answer it and immediately stepped aside respectfully when she saw who had arrived.

”Is Seriu asleep?” the visitor asked gently.

”Your Highness, the prince has only just lain down,” the maid answered softly.

”I’ll go in and see him.”

The visitor entered the room and approached the bed with quiet footsteps, lowering his head to study the young prince, who was pretending to be asleep.

Seriu hadn’t intended to acknowledge him, but being stared at was so uncomfortable that he eventually had no choice but to open his eyes.

A young man stood beside the bed.

He wore a long black robe, and his jet-black hair fell loosely to his waist. His features were strikingly handsome, his skin smooth and snow-white. His deep-set eyes were so dark that their depths seemed bottomless, and a faint smile played at the corners of his mouth.

He was Danton Trik, the younger brother of Cecilia’s reigning king and Seriu’s uncle.

Seriu, however, didn’t like him.

He had always felt that his royal uncle wasn’t nearly as gentle and refined as he appeared.

Whenever those pitch-black eyes settled on him, Seriu felt as though a venomous snake had fixed him in its sights.

There was something cold and malicious about that gaze.

Seriu pulled the blanket up over himself, leaving only half his face exposed.

”Uncle, I want to sleep,” he muttered.

Danton slowly bent down, bringing his handsome face closer to the young prince.

To Seriu’s astonishment, his uncle leaned in until his lips were almost touching the boy’s ear.

”You saw it, didn’t you?”

The softly spoken words sent an icy chill through Seriu’s entire body.

The palace lay in ruins.

The bodies of Elves and Fairies were scattered everywhere.

The once-noble and elegant Elven King sat in a wretched state before a broken pillar, cradling a blood-soaked, golden-haired Fairy in his arms.

”You can’t save him.”

The Dark God stood before him, looking down at him from above.

The Elven King remained utterly motionless, like a statue, paying no attention to the Dark God whatsoever.

The Dark God did not grow angry.

Instead, he slowly crouched down and extended a long, pale hand.

He caught the Elven King’s chin between his fingers and forced him to look up.

”The Son of Light could just as easily be the Son of Darkness. Why would you rather choose that fool Laiente than become my child?”

”My darling Freyus.”