The Elf King visibly trembled as it laid its eyes on Merek and Azel did too.

There was something about this feeling, even through the memory that simply couldn't be compared to other Great Mages in the very least.

The pressure radiating from the floating wizard felt like standing at the edge of an abyss, staring into infinite darkness that stared back with malevolent intent.

Even as just an observer in a memory, Azel's instincts screamed at him to run.

The magical energy surrounding Merek wasn't just powerful… like the man had burned away everything human about himself and replaced it with pure destructive force.

"He was Humanity's first Archmage… a man who could use ten mana circles however he engraved those circles into his bones and veins, turning his human body into a living machine." The Elf King said, its voice tight with something that might have been fear. "He was unbeatable, even my Father could not hope to defeat him despite having lived longer than him."

Azel watched as the dying Elf King in the memory reached up with a trembling hand, pressing it against the younger version's chest.

Golden light began to pour from the older King's body, flowing into the successor like liquid fire.

"So he risked his life to seal that monstrosity somewhere where he would never be able to harm both humans and elves anymore and peace returned."

The memory showed the older Elf King's body beginning to crumble, turning to ash even as Merek screamed in fury above them.

Magical chains of pure light erupted from the ground, wrapping around the Archmage and dragging him down into a swirling vortex of spatial magic.

Merek's face twisted with rage and agony as he was pulled into the seal, his hands clawing desperately at the air.

His mouth opened in a soundless roar before he vanished completely, leaving only scorched earth and silence.

Azel was speechless.

The sheer magnitude of power required to seal something like that… to sacrifice yourself to trap a monster who had single-handedly destroyed the strongest beings in the Elven Empire…

"...However, Merek was the fiancée of the woman that wanted to run away with Yarog." The Elf King replied.

That made Azel's eyes widen and his breath caught in his throat.

"What…?"

"Even after her death… she led to the death of my parents, of powerful elves and all of my other siblings apart from myself." The Elf King continued, its monotone voice somehow conveying an ocean of bitterness beneath the flat delivery.

The implication settled over Azel like a heavy blanket.

Gwendolyn's death had triggered all of this.

Her love affair with Yarog had set off a chain of events that culminated in the near-destruction of the Elven Empire.

One woman's choice to run away with a forbidden lover had cost thousands of lives and created a monster so terrible it took the sacrifice of the Elf King himself to stop.

'No wonder they hate humans…' Azel thought, feeling a chill run down his spine.

The last memory showed the current Elf King sitting on the throne, looking impossibly small in the grand seat.

Its face was completely emotionless and blank as fresh paper.

Around it stood advisors and nobles, all bowing deeply, but the young ruler simply stared ahead with those tri-tone eyes that seemed to see nothing at all.

"I have been on the throne of the Elf King for four hundred years now… and I'm tired, however I must maintain my focus and fulfill my wish to the very end." The Elf King's voice echoed through the memory.

Then everything dissolved.

They returned back to the study for good this time and Azel stared at his tea.

Suddenly he didn't feel very good.

His stomach churned uncomfortably, and the weight of everything he'd just witnessed pressed down on his shoulders like physical chains.

The casual atmosphere from before had evaporated completely.

He swallowed hard.

"That is not a story meant for regular humans to stomach, I apologize for dumping it on you like that." The Elf King said, setting down its cup with a soft clink. "But I have answered your request and now I will lay my own down…"

Azel nodded slowly, trying to compose himself. "Feel free to."

He took a sip of the tea, finding his mouth felt bitter.

The Elf King paused for a long moment, its tri-tone eyes fixed on the liquid in its cup.

Its fingers tightened around the ceramic, and for the first time since they'd met, the Elf King looked… nervous.

"I want to choose a gender…" The Elf King said as it grasped the cup with both hands.

It lifted the tea to its lips and drank down all the liquid in one fell swoop, like someone taking a shot of courage before diving off a cliff.

The cup came down with a decisive thunk.

"I would like you to make me fall in love with you."

"Huh?"

Azel didn't spit his tea out but drank it down all the same, the hot liquid burning slightly as it went down his throat.

He set the cup down carefully and looked at the Elf King with wide crimson eyes.

"What do you mean…?"

The Elf King's expression remained perfectly neutral, but there was something in the way its shoulders tensed that suggested this was not an easy request to make.

"I meant exactly what I said. There are many limitations on this body… as I merely exist, I have not experienced the feeling of expelling urine neither have I experienced sexual pleasure, I have also not experienced the feeling that most of you do all the same…"

The Elf King's voice remained monotone, but each word felt carefully chosen.

"While I don't really need those to survive as the Elf King," it continued, meeting Azel's gaze directly. "I have lived like this… an alien among my own kind for so long, with no other pure bred royal elves. This suffering will surely end with me."

"I have already decided that if I don't find love within the next two hundred years, I will effectively kill myself."

The way the Elf King said it… it sounded scary, especially with the monotone voice. Like someone commenting on the weather rather than announcing their planned suicide.

The casual delivery made it worse somehow.

Azel felt his throat tighten. "How are you supposed to fall in love…?"

"You'll know when it happens." The Elf King replied simply.

It had been very apprehensive about that feeling for quite a few hundred years since it got Yarog killed.

Watching its childhood friend throw away everything for a human woman, seeing the destruction that followed, witnessing the pain and suffering love had caused…

But it also wanted to know what it felt like.

That feeling that made Yarog abandon all of his scientific logic and chase after a woman. That emotion powerful enough to make someone risk death, exile, and the hatred of their entire people.

It really didn't care if it became a man or woman at this point.

The Elf King simply wanted to experience a feeling that it had never experienced before, to finally understand what it meant to be alive rather than merely existing.

"You have over the trial to make me fall in love with you, effective tonight… you'll be sleeping in my room as well." The Elf King said matter-of-factly.

Azel settled back in his chair, processing this completely insane request. Though he wanted to ask questions, a thousand of them really, one rose above the others.

"And if I fail?"

"We can still be friends…" The Elf King said, and something that might have been a smile tugged at the corner of its mouth. "I would love to see how much you grow. However if you succeed, and I become a woman… you can have an Elf King that truly loves you all to yourself."

A deliberate pause.

"Not like the Elf Princess using you for her personal goals."

Azel blinked.

'At this point… I'm not even surprised.' He thought, letting out a slow breath.

"You knew?"

"It was very obvious." The Elf King said, reaching for another biscuit and biting into it despite not being able to taste anything. "Though you can still choose to help her, that is none of my concern but know this, if Sylvia wins the Elf King trials… I will live until she dies just to ensure that she never becomes the ruler of the Elven Kingdom."

'That's like another sure way of making sure you don't kill yourself… Still according to her in-game personality, I thought she was nice.' Azel thought, almost amused by the irony.

Then he shrugged, deciding to ask the obvious question.

"Why?"

The Elf King's tri-tone eyes darkened, all three colors seeming to swirl with barely contained intensity.

"She's going to lead the Elf Kingdom to total destruction." The Elf King simply said.

…

…Hours had passed since the Elf King had that talk with Azel and it wondered whether that was a good idea.

'The issue with this bloodline is that I must truly fall in love…' The Elf King thought, staring up at the ceiling of its chambers.

How was it meant to fall in love with a human?

What even was love… what made up that feeling? It knew the definition, had read countless texts describing the emotion in flowery prose, had witnessed it destroy Yarog and devastate an empire.

But understanding love intellectually and experiencing it were entirely different things.

It knew that it could not do that with elves. She couldn't even consider it when almost everyone was younger than it by centuries.

The age gap felt insurmountable, like trying to form a romantic connection with a child. Every elf in the kingdom looked at it with either reverence or fear and never as an equal.

She would rather do so with a younger human than a younger elf.

At least humans lived fast, experienced emotions with intensity, and treated each other as equals regardless of age differences.

Besides, elves didn't really pride themselves on love and most engagements were based on power, political maneuvering, and bloodline preservation.

Love was considered a luxury at best, a weakness at worst.

Slowly the elf began to shrink, its body compressing until it stopped when it was about 5'7.

'I grow tired of extending my form outward to seem menacing.' It thought as it fell on the bed with a small sigh.

The mattress was soft, probably too soft given how rarely it actually used the thing.

It was already night-time and it wondered how Azel was even planning to start. What did one even do to make someone fall in love? Was there a formula? A process?

The Elf King had no idea.

The human had left the study immediately after their small talk and showing of memories, and the Elf King could not help but feel a bit nervous.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, that flutter of uncertainty in its chest. Normally it felt nothing but calm detachment, the emotional flatness of someone who'd lived too long to be surprised by anything.

But now? Now there was… anticipation? Anxiety? It couldn't quite name the feeling.

Just then, the door opened with a soft creak.

Instead of the maid it had expected, it was Azel, dressed like a butler with an apron tied around his waist.

In his hands was a big tray covered with several domed dishes that clinked softly as he walked. The smell hit the room first… something rich and savory that made the air itself seem warmer.

"You brought food…?" It asked, sitting up slightly. "That won't wor—"

The Elf King stopped mid-sentence.

It looked at Azel's face properly for the first time. He looked handsome… unlike all those elves with their perfect, almost identical features.

His face had character, sharpness and a roughness that came from actual living rather than ageless beauty.

His crimson eyes caught the candlelight, and there were smudges on his face here and there… flour maybe, or soot from cooking.

He looked… very real.

"I made it specifically for you…" Azel said, setting the tray down on a nearby table with practiced ease.

Then he looked up, meeting the Elf King's gaze directly. "But you will have to bathe first. You smell."

The Elf King immediately retaliated, its pride stung.

"It is impossible… I don't—"

But even as it protested, doubt crept in. The Elf King raised its hand to its own armpit and took a whiff.

Its nose wrinkled involuntarily.

The smell was… not good.

Actually, it was terrible.

"I smell… to this level?" It asked, voice smaller than before. The realization was mortifying.

"It might not smell because of the clothes you put on but since it's both of us and your robes are off, you stink." Azel said bluntly as he placed the platter more securely on the table.

He turned to face the Elf King fully, his arms crossing over his chest. "When last did you take a bath…?"

The Elf King hesitated, genuinely trying to remember.

"A physical bath? I believe the last time I took that was about five hundred years ago."

It watched Azel's face gradually shrink in horror, his mouth falling open slightly and his eyes widening with pure disbelief.

A strange sensation bubbled in the Elf King's throat… something light and ticklish that it hadn't felt in decades.

It tried to suppress it, pressing its lips together.

"I used a cleaning spell though," the Elf King added quickly, trying to salvage the situation. "Like two hundred years ago."

"You dirty elf…"

Azel's face scrunched up with such exaggerated disgust that the Elf King couldn't hold it anymore.

Laughter burst out of its mouth.

"Sorry… your face… just looks so funny." The Elf King said between laughs, the sound strange and rusty from disuse.

Then it stopped laughing immediately after, the emotional wall slamming back down. Its expression turned emotionless once more, blank as fresh snow. "Well I have a bath here."

She pointed at a door on the far side of the room, partially hidden behind a decorative screen.

Azel walked over and reached for the handle, pulling it open.

Immediately, several cockroaches scurried out, their dark bodies catching the light as they fled across the floor.

The stench of stagnant water and mildew hit like a physical force. Inside, the bathroom was covered in dust, grime, and what looked like centuries of accumulated neglect.

He shut the door immediately, his hand still on the handle.

"When last did you even clean this place?" He asked, turning to stare at the Elf King with barely contained horror.

"Well… four hundred years ago, I don't have any need to bathe or excrete my food so—"

"Get off that bed and join me in cleaning."

Azel's voice cut through the explanation like a knife. One eyebrow was raised higher than the other, and his expression made it clear this wasn't a request.

The Elf King sighed, a long suffering sound that came from deep in its chest. Then it stood up from the bed, its bare feet touching the cold floor.

"Fine," it muttered, walking over to join him at the bathroom door.

Azel had already pushed the door back open and was surveying the damage with the critical eye of someone planning a military campaign.

The bathroom was spacious, probably beautiful once, with marble tiles and an enormous sunken tub.

But now it was a disaster zone.

"We're going to need supplies," Azel said, already rolling up his sleeves. "Cleaning cloths, soap, probably some kind of magical solution to deal with whatever's been growing in that tub for four centuries."

The Elf King peered over his shoulder, wrinkling its nose at the sight.

"I could simply use magic to clean it instantly," it offered.

"No." Azel's response was immediate and firm. "We're doing this properly. With our hands."

"Why?"

"Because," Azel said, turning to look at the Elf King with an expression that was somehow both stern and gentle, "you need to remember what it's like to be alive. To do things. To feel your hands get dirty and then clean again. That's part of being human… or whatever you're trying to become."

The Elf King stared at him for a long moment, those tri-tone eyes searching his face for something it couldn't name.

Then slowly, it nodded.

"Alright," it said quietly. "Show me how."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.