All the elves took Luca's words to heart.

In that moment, something shifted—centuries of quiet obedience cracked open.

They looked at one another, saw the same fire in each other's eyes, and the celebration exploded with renewed, defiant joy.

They partied like the world was ending—or beginning anew.

Dancing circles widened around the bonfire.

Songs rose—old ones, new ones, improvised ones about the Hero who turned exile into triumph.

Alcohol flowed freely: sweet berry wines, sharp root spirits, honey meads passed hand to hand.

Laughter echoed through the canopy.

And by the time the moons were halfway down the sky, the party had gone on for hours.

The fire crackled lower, its brilliant blaze reduced to a softer golden hue. The ground was littered with empty mugs, plates, and half-eaten loaves of bread.

One by one, the elves began to falter.

Some were slumped over tables, others were dragging their exhausted friends by the arm or over their shoulders.

One drunk elf was being carried away by another and slurred.

"Nooo...don't take me...I want to party! I want to party!"

The other sighed, adjusting the drunk elf's weight on her shoulder.

"Sure, sure—you've had enough partying. You were about to fall into the fire a few minutes ago! That's more than enough for one night."

With that, she hauled her away, still laughing softly.

Soon, the clearing grew quieter. Only the crackling of the fire and the gentle hum of the night wind remained.

Of course, a few of the more sober elves stayed behind to clean up. They gathered the scattered plates, bowls, and cups from the feast earlier that night.

Surprisingly, among them—was Luca.

He was sitting on a tree stump, sleeves rolled up, with a wooden bucket of water beside him. He had taken over dishwashing duty, scrubbing plates clean with a calm smile as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

One elf paused, arms full of bowls.

"Hero...you really don't have to do this. We can handle it."

"Yes, go rest!" Another nodded vigorously. "You danced all night. Those moves were...um...unique." She hid a grin. "Very energetic. You must be exhausted."

"And anyway, washing dishes is women's work." A third added, concerned. "Not a man's duty—especially not a Hero's. Let us take care of it."

The other elves murmured in agreement, all of them looking concerned and a little embarrassed that the Hero himself was scrubbing dishes like an ordinary villager.

And hearing their complaints, Luca stopped mid-wash, glancing up at them with an amused smile.

"Women's work?" He repeated, his voice light but curious. "What do you mean by that?"

The elves exchanged uncertain glances, suddenly unsure how to explain it.

He chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't really care about that sort of thing." He said simply. "You all prepared such wonderful food for me tonight and I got to eat until my heart was full. I also laughed, danced, and celebrated because of your kindness."

He dipped another bowl into the water and rinsed it clean, his voice filled with conviction.

"So, I'm just doing my part. That's all. You don't have to worry about it and just have to bring all the dishes here."

"You can even bring the dishes back in your home here....I don't mind washing them."

The way he said it—so effortlessly, so naturally—sent a shockwave through the group of elves.

They all froze.

Their faces turned pink almost instantly.

And before they could stop themselves, they started rubbing their thighs together subconsciously, a strange, restless heat spreading through them.

None of them could explain it, but hearing a man—a Hero, no less—say such words, and mean them so sincerely, was...indescribably hot.

For their entire lives, no man had ever said anything like that.

In their culture, men never helped with cleaning, cooking, or anything remotely domestic. Those were always considered 'women's duties' and the men of their village carried that arrogance with pride.

But here he was, a being of divine strength, sitting calmly and washing dishes, not out of obligation but out of gratitude.

And he looked so at ease doing it that their hearts nearly exploded.

The six elves exchanged glances, bodies burning, hearts fluttering wildly.

They were all looking at Luca like wolves who had just spotted their prey.

If he had turned around right then, he might have been greeted by six glowing, hungry gazes ready to devour him alive.

But Luca, completely oblivious, just kept scrubbing the dishes happily.

One of the bolder elves even opened her mouth, ready to call him over—to invite him to her house for another drink and, perhaps, something more.

But before she could speak, Luca looked up with a cheerful grin and said,

"You know, you all really know how to drink."

The elf froze mid-breath.

He went on, chuckling, "You look so thin and elegant, I honestly thought you'd all fall over after one cup. But you handled alcohol better than half the men I knew in my past world!"

The elves immediately blushed harder, suddenly realizing what they'd been thinking a moment ago.

They coughed, pretending to act normal again, and one of them quickly spoke up, trying to change the subject.

"Well." She said proudly. "One should never judge a book by its cover! We elves have been drinking for thousands of years. Even among beastkin, we hold our own when it comes to alcohol."

"Especially the women." Another nodded. "Male elves are hopeless when it comes to drinking! A few cups and they're out cold."

"But us?...We can go all night!"

Luca chuckled at that, washing another plate.

"I can agree with that—for most of you, anyway." He said with a playful glint in his eye.

"Oh?" One elf tilted her head curiously. "What do you mean 'most of us'?"

He smirked. "I mean Luna and Lulu."

The group blinked, and then laughter burst out.

"Those two?" One elf asked between giggles. "Don't tell me they couldn't handle a drink?"

"Oh, they tried." Luca said, grinning wide. "Lulu was bragging about how she could handle her liquor better than anyone. She took one sip, and half a cup later, she was already spinning in circles, dancing and shouting random things!"

"And Luna—she didn't even last that long. Half a drink in and she was fast asleep!"

The elves burst out laughing, clutching their sides.

"Oh, those two are definitely Leona's daughters!" One said teasingly. "Just like their mother—feeble when it comes to alcohol!"

Another giggled. "True! But their aunt, on the other hand, is built different. Nyx could drink all of us under the table without even blinking!"

Luca nodded thoughtfully, stacking another plate.

"Yeah, that sounds right." He said with a grin. "She strikes me as someone who could probably finish an entire barrel and still look elegant doing it."

He glanced around the clearing, then frowned.

"But speaking of her...where exactly is Nyx? I didn't see her during the whole party."

The laughter stopped.

The elves expressions shifted, slightly uncomfortable and avoiding his eyes.

Luca noticed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Where is she?"

The elves exchanged nervous glances until one elf who was slightly more drunk lifted her hand lazily and said,

"Oh...she's probably with the men right now. Spending time with them."

Luca tilted his head.

"With the men?" He frowned, confused. "I mean, that's not technically wrong. Drinking with them is fine."

"But judging by the look on your faces, it's not exactly that simple, is it?"

"Well, that is…" One of them started, trailing off awkwardly.

"Umm..." Another one opened her mouth but nothing came out.

"The thing is..." A third tried to speak but she couldn't.

And seeing how hesitant they were, he sighed before gazing at each of them firmly and saying,

"Please, don't hide anything from me. If I'm going to help your village, I need to understand everything—every problem, every secret, every custom."

"So please...be honest and tell me everything you know."

The elves looked at one another again, then sighed collectively.

"Alright." One of them finally said, reluctantly. "We really don't want to talk about this. It's...a bit of gossip, and we don't like spreading rumors. But since you're asking sincerely…"

She hesitated a moment, then continued carefully.

"Nyx is...well, to start with, she's amazing."

"She handles all the hard work around here. The supplies, the distribution, any disputes. If anyone has a problem, she's the first person they go to. She's dependable. Everyone respects her."

"And she's kind, too." Another elf nodded. "Always smiling, always approachable. She listens to everyone's troubles and somehow knows the perfect thing to say."

"She's hilarious too." Another chimed in. "She makes jokes at the perfect moments but knows when to be serious."

"Honestly, she's wonderful. We all love her."

Luca smiled faintly, hearing the affection in their voices.

"It's hard to not like someone as chill as her."

"Yes." One elf said slowly. "But…"

Luca tilted his head. "But?"

The elf hesitated, then sighed.

"Even though she's like that...she has a side that worries us. A side that we don't really understand."

Luca's tone softened. "What kind of side?"

After a brief pause, another elf finally spoke up, lowering her voice.

"A side where she...spends a little too much time with the men."

"A worrying amount."

—

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