Chapter 153: 153: The Secret of the Elf and the Charming Girl

Words : 1274 Updated : Oct 4th, 2025

The crisis in the Elven Forest was over! For the forest elves, this was a monumental relief. They had almost forgotten about the victims lost during this ordeal—every elf was simply too overwhelmed with joy. These naturally reserved beings rarely indulged in celebrations, but if one observed closely, they would notice the elves speaking in louder voices, their tones lighter, filled with newfound cheer. Perhaps it was the lifted tension, but many unmarried elves began seeking out potential partners, and for the next several days, the entire village was steeped in an air of romance. ... A small figure stood by the crystal-clear lake, her golden hair shimmering as the breeze tousled its strands. She stood with perfect posture, her left hand gripping a bow while her right remained poised in a drawn position, as though she had just let an arrow fly. And indeed, she had—an arrow had just soared across the lake, landing with a thunk into a straw target on the opposite shore. "Ligeitoli?" A sweet voice called from behind, causing the elven girl's ears to twitch slightly. She knew exactly who it was, and her excitement dimmed immediately as she muttered under her breath, "Ugh, why is it you, Courtois?" "Hey, you can call me by my actual name—Fleur Delacour." The silver-haired French girl walked up beside Ligeitoli, crossing her legs and smoothing down the strands of hair the wind had disturbed. She sat with an air of elegance, sighing dramatically. "Why does every elf in this village insist on calling me veela?" she complained. "You all act like you have zero fondness for me. I don't understand why. I mean, would a vampire receive better treatment than a veela here? That hardly seems fair. Vampires are actual dark creatures, after all!" "Annoying people are a different matter altogether!" Ligeitoli declared crisply. "He saved our home!" Fleur eyed her curiously. There was something odd about the way this little elf spoke of vampires, but she decided it wasn't her concern. "Ligeitoli, I heard that you have veela blood," Fleur said, tilting her head slightly. Ligeitoli scowled. "I don't know what answer you're looking for, but yes, I do!" Her expression darkened as she gritted her teeth. "Listen, Courtois, I don't want to argue with you! But if you're here to badmouth my parents like the other elves, or stir up trouble, I will shoot this arrow straight at you!" "I'm not here to argue," Fleur said calmly. "I didn't come to Ireland for a vacation. I came here looking for family." "Veela family?" "Possibly... I'm not sure." Fleur hesitated, spreading her hands in a slightly awkward gesture. "You see, I'm actually only part-veela. A half-blood witch, really. I only inherited a little of their abilities." She sighed. "In my family, my grandmother was a veela, but she wasn't a full-blooded one either. Her lineage also contained a touch of elven blood." Ligeitoli's jaw nearly dropped. She stared at Fleur in disbelief. "Hey, don't look at me like that!" Fleur protested, shrugging helplessly. "I'm just saying, my grandmother is old now. Veelas don't have long lifespans, do they? I think... maybe she wants to find her remaining family. The elderly always seek out their loved ones in their twilight years." Ligeitoli muttered under her breath, "I have a veela sister. We share the same parents, but she's a veela with elven blood, while I'm an elf with veela blood. She doesn't like me very much." "...Would her name happen to be Franche?" Ligeitoli's lips twitched slightly. She stared at Fleur for a long moment, her expression complicated. "So, you're her granddaughter?" "Great," Fleur muttered, exasperated. "Does this mean I'm supposed to call you Great-Aunt or something?" She looked half-amused, half-dismayed. And frankly, who wouldn't be? The so-called "Great-Aunt" in front of her looked no older than thirteen or fourteen—barely a teenager. In fact, Ligeitoli seemed even younger than Fleur herself! But the little elf remained unbothered. To her, this was nothing unusual. Elves were a long-lived race. In their villages, it was common for younger-looking individuals to be far older than those who appeared mature. Ligeitoli's own father, when he was still alive, had the appearance of an eleven-year-old boy. How her mother—a veela—had ever fallen for that was anyone's guess. Ligeitoli's voice softened as she asked, almost hesitantly, "Is Franche... doing well?" "She's doing... alright, I suppose. Or maybe not. She's aging rapidly," Fleur admitted with a sigh. "Grandmother has always missed her parents... and the forest where she was born." Ligeitoli's large, bright eyes darkened with sorrow. "Poor Franche... She must still remember how the villagers cursed her when she was cast out of the forest. And I—I didn't protect her. What kind of awful sister am I?" Her voice wavered. "Maybe... maybe I should go see her..." "I was hoping you'd come to France with me... Great-Aunt," Fleur added awkwardly. Then, as if trying to brush off the awkwardness, she suddenly raised an eyebrow and patted Ligeitoli's shoulder with surprising familiarity. "Hey, Ligeitoli, look over there!" "Maybe you should just call me by my name, Fleur," Ligeitoli muttered, wrinkling her nose. "It sounds way better than 'Great-Aunt'..." Then, she pursed her lips as she followed Fleur's gaze. "Huh? That annoying guy? What's he doing?" At that moment, Nolan Von Draugr was being surrounded by about twenty male elves as they led him toward the lake. His expression was one of utter irritation, his brows furrowed as if he'd rather be anywhere but here. "Listen up, elves," Nolan said flatly. "I don't have time for this. Unlike you, I actually value punctuality. Sure, vampires and elves have similar lifespans, but I actually care about how I spend mine." "We don't have time either," one of the elves, the biggest and burliest among them, grunted. He jabbed a thick finger against Nolan's chest. "Listen, vampire brat, you're not taking our Priestess Lúthfa away! She should stay in the village, marry an elf, and bear the next priestess—just like her mother did!" "Are you done?" Nolan asked coldly. "Lúthfa and Shafa already belong to me. Your words mean nothing." "You can't do this!" Another elf shrieked. "Priestess Lúthfa is a symbol of our village! Everyone wants to marry her! You have no right to take her away!" "Don't talk to me about 'rights,'" Nolan said dismissively. "And don't try to lecture me on what I should or shouldn't do. If there's anyone in this world qualified to give me orders, it's my professor and my sister, Felicia. Not a bunch of idle, art-obsessed elves." He pulled out a short dagger, twirling it between his fingers. "Enough talking. If you want to take something from a vampire, you fight for it. Winner takes all." The male elves exchanged uncertain glances, but then, as if reaching a silent agreement, they all drew their swords and charged at him. Not far away, Ligeitoli and Fleur grimaced as they watched the unfolding chaos. "Merlin's beard... This is just sad," Ligeitoli muttered sincerely. "I have no idea where they got the courage to challenge Nolan." "Want to place a bet, Great-Aunt?" Fleur smirked. "How long do you think it'll take for the vampire to wipe the floor with them?" "Three minutes?" Ligeitoli mused. Then, after a moment of thought, she added, "...Oh wait, that might be too long."

Chapter 153: 153: The Secret of the Elf and the Charming Girl

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