Academy Saintess of My Chūni Writing Days

Looking at Arlil, the reason why honorifics like ‘this person’, ‘that person’, and ‘the other person’ are not followed by ‘nim’ is surprisingly simple. The term ‘Arlil’ itself already means ‘the great tree,’ so adding ‘nim’ would result in something ridiculous like ‘the great tree nim nim.’

“Sometimes, other races end up adding ‘nim’ to Arlil out of unnecessary respect, but for elves, it seems more like mockery than anything else, so it’s better to be cautious,” Kihmuhir advised.

Before coming here, my plan was to attend only the mandatory events briefly, take a quick tour of the Elven Village, and return as soon as possible. But now that I’ve become a ‘High Priest,’ that plan was out the window.

The most important part of the festival was the rituals. ‘Remihar’ meant both the elven festival and the very sacrifice performed during that time.

It was the first time I learned that elves had a festival, and here I was, becoming the ‘High Priest’ for the most important event.

…Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn.

I never thought that my habit of signing blindly without reading the terms during membership registration, bank account creation, and credit card applications would lead to such a disaster.

Looking back now, even during my first interview at a company, they showed me a contract with cruel terms like ‘salary including severance pay’ and ‘weekend work excluded from annual leave.’ At the time, I didn’t sign because the company was too far away and the building was too old, but had it been a company closer to home, I’d have probably signed without a second thought.

I only learned the contents of that contract later, after it was revealed in the news as a company notorious for unfair contracts.

The company I ended up working for later was also not exactly normal.

Alright, from now on, if someone hands me a document and asks me to sign, I’m at least going to read it!

This resolution may have come a bit late!

…Whether or not I had the right to refuse to sign is a different story altogether.

“Welcome, Saintess, to the homeland of all elves.”

As I disembarked from the plane, Kihmuhir spoke in an incredibly formal tone and posture. He placed his right hand on his left chest while his left hand rested behind his waist, bowing gently. It was probably some sort of elven greeting.

There was indeed an airport in the Elven District, located on the outskirts. But because the elven region wasn’t particularly large, I didn’t have to spend several hours driving from the airport to the central area; I could see Arlil from the air.

The reason the Elven District is more compact than others is probably because their living radius is dependent on Arlil. While Arlil’s divine power could reach pretty far, if there was an Arlil in a large area like the 21st District, it wouldn’t be able to cover the entire area.

Moreover, elves didn’t really need to rely on cars for transportation, which left the few available roads surprisingly wide and clear.

Even in the middle of a dense jungle, the strangely straight road was well maintained beyond my expectations. There were no cracks in the asphalt, and no leaves piled up either.

Funny enough, the road was six lanes wide, but there was hardly any traffic. It was a beautiful sight, with Arlil reaching for the sky at the end of that peculiarly wide and straight road.

On both sides of the spacious road, thick jungles stood, and in the distance, a giant tree emitted a soft golden glow—

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Kihmuhir, seated in the middle of the backseat of the large van, turned to me and asked. His voice clearly brimmed with pride.

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” I admitted willingly. From the moment I landed at the airport, I was surrounded by far more elves than humans; there was no point in saying anything to upset him.

Besides, while Kihmuhir was just one elf outside this region, within the Elven District, he was positioned as the heir of a notable family. Having received ‘approval’ from someone in such a position, I had no reason to throw that away.

Of course, being on the receiving end of such approval didn’t feel particularly good either.

But, well, it’s nature after all.

What’s wrong with being beautiful? Being able to acknowledge something purely beautiful, regardless of elven approval or political judgments, is the least I could do.

I thought this while infinitely gazing at Arlil outside the window.

*

The elven clothes fit me perfectly. The size given at the church must have been the one used to tailor my saint’s robe. It wasn’t just a case of finding a size that fit; it seemed like they had specifically crafted a new outfit to fit my measurements.

Well, that was to be expected. The elves would want my assistance not just this time, but for the long haul. They’d keep needing my help until the appearance of the second or third Saint.

Both the church and the government would continuously make requests of me.

Now that I’ve already come once, refusing next time would probably invite questions like, ‘Why? Did they do something bad to you?’

…Talk about stepping on a landmine!

Even if I knew which zone the landmine was laid in, I doubt there was an alternative path.

At least the good news is, the saint’s robe was much looser in design compared to how tightly it clung to my body.

The saint’s robe fit snugly from below the chest to the waist when I stood, clearly outlining my body shape, while the elves’ attire—let’s say ‘Lahihir’—while slightly tight around the chest, allowed ample room below for the waist to hip, creating a natural drape.

The hem of the dress was fundamentally different from Kihmuhir’s slightly longer tunic; this one was longer than the saint’s robe. Although there were slits on the sides, since I wore dark leggings beneath, it was actually less bothersome than when wearing the saint’s robe.

While it was nice not to worry too much about my appearance…

I can feel all these eyes on me, and I don’t think it’s just my imagination.

No, it doesn’t seem because I’m a human. If that were the case, then surely the Knights behind me would also be getting the same kind of attention, right? They’re the ones in shining plate armor and helmets, so if looks of caution are to be cast, wouldn’t they be more the target of such gazes?

Well, perhaps it could be because I’m a Saint…

But Aurora, walking just behind me, also seems to be drawing glances.

Moreover, the gazes primarily come from the males. It’s likely the elves, both male and female, are all charmingly good-looking. Most tend to have long hair, and they can be tough to distinguish as male or female just by seeing them at a glance.

Even the males tend to be slender, and the small children are incredibly difficult to distinguish.

—Ah, right.

It’s that distinguishing between males and females is ‘not easy.’

Whether it’s male or female.

What I’m saying is that the bodies of elven females ‘don’t differ greatly’ from males.

So, are these glances I’m receiving due to a biological curiosity about a form they’ve never seen before? Or is it sexual curiosity about a colossal being they’ve never encountered before?

…Both are reasons I absolutely don’t want to think about.

Come on, at least judge based on ear shapes or something!

*

I had no idea what significance breast size held for elves, nor do I wish to know in the future. Given their super traditionalist views, it’s safe to assume they’re quite sexually conservative. So, very likely, no one would wish to broach such topics with me, an outsider.

It’d be preferable if they could at least do something to lessen the gazes…

But then again, I can’t really say anything since I have a history of being unable to look away from the bursting figures of my homeroom teacher, Seo-A. Perhaps among elves, the meaning behind breasts is similar.

In contrast, Aurora seemed completely unfazed, steadily admiring her surroundings.

The village inhabited by the elves was, quite literally, a village of elves.

Some homes were dug out from thick, tall trees, while others were built atop sturdy branches. Bridges allowed passage in between trees, supported by long wooden pillars.

Although it was a jungle, perhaps they periodically pruned the branches since sunlight poured down beneath the trees. To my surprise, the area beneath the trees was well-kept, allowing us to walk easily on smooth, solid ground.

The road that seemed to lead straight to Arlil suddenly came to an end. The next stretch continued in much the same manner, a wide path covered in short, trimmed grass rather than the artificially paved sidewalks of human society.

Well, the grassy field made of soft earth without a stone in sight is somewhat artificial too.

Kihmuhir was leading me, Aurora, and the Knight faction following behind us. After the elven driver who brought us drove us off, he vanished somewhere, and we were left with no choice but to follow Kihmuhir.

After walking for about five minutes, I began to hear singing from somewhere.

Actually, not just from somewhere; it was coming from everywhere.

“Ra-hir-rya-lir, El-pre-ya-mi-hir.”

Well, that’s approximately how it sounded.

True to the elves who communicated through song, the many elves harmonized beautifully as they sang. It felt as if I had walked into a musical sung in a foreign language I didn’t understand.

“Hello, Saintess. Welcome to the homeland of the elves.”

Kihmuhir, who was walking in front of me, turned around and said so. Even while he turned, he kept walking backward without slowing down, which was impressive in its own right.

It seemed that exceptional balance was part of that overwhelming physical coordination. Personally, I thought Kihmuhir could roll backward without any problem. Of course, his stamina might falter sooner than a human’s, but still.

He could probably place well in gymnastics competitions.

“That’s what I mean,” Kihmuhir replied with a slight smile.

I slightly raised my head and looked up into the trees. On each swinging bridge connecting the trees and on every staircase spiraling around thick trunks, elves gathered, singing.

This could mean that it wasn’t just singing but perhaps a collective cheer. To my human ears, it simply sounded like singing.

Would there come a day when, upon mastering the elven language, I might hear the songs of others as songs in another language?

Although I had no intention of plunging into the hell that linguists so often spoke about.

Even so, it’s a good thing that elves were this welcoming toward humans.

No matter how traditionalist they may be, if they kept such attitudes in my presence, I wouldn’t need to feel uncomfortable.

Considering they were welcoming me like this, it was possible they might treat me lavishly for political reasons, too.

If I just refrain from causing any incidents, wouldn’t I be able to wrap things up and leave quickly?

*

—There was a time when I thought like this.

With quite a warm welcome, I entered the Senate, which was reportedly the lowest building among elven architecture.

Having heard a rough overview of elven society while on the plane, I was aware of this.

The Senate, dug out from inside the giant tree, was literally where the elders gathered to hold meetings. It was a luxurious structure carved into the inside of the tree with three levels, but since it was ‘the place where the elders, who were the subjects of all elves, gathered,’ it was built in the lowest part.

It might seem impractical to build something there considering the inner space but the elves had brought other foreign species along with Arlil, and many of those plants were different from one another. Among them were the grasses and herbs that were staples for the elves, as well as timber for construction.

It was reminiscent of the baobab or sequoia trees, but these were even thicker, making them perfectly usable as buildings.

Of course, such ancient trees were rare, and most were used to build public facilities like the Senate.

The Senate was constructed within the largest tree among them. It wasn’t so much that it had to be in the lowest part but more that it was simply easier that way.

Anyway, those who occupied the elder seats in the Senate were the oldest and wisest among the five most distinguished families of the elves.

Indeed. There was no such thing as voting among these traditionalists. I have no idea why the oldest would also be the wisest.

While they could live for hundreds of years under the grace of Arlil, the elves who migrated here now live similarly to humans. Still, if they stayed close to Arlil without falling behind, they could live to about 90 years old without issue, meaning they live slightly longer than humans. However, if they drifted too far away for too long, their lifespans would diminish accordingly.

Thus, the elders were the true definition of traditionalist old-timers among elves.

As I stepped into the Senate, the faint singing promptly came to a halt. Ah, it seems that what I thought was singing was actually a discussion. Since I, of course, didn’t understand elven speech, it would be Kihmuhir who caused it to stop, not me.

Following Kihmuhir in, I heard someone’s voice saying, “Ramihi.”

The problem was I completely failed to comprehend what came after.

One of the elders addressed Kihmuhir with song-like speech, and Ramihi nodded in response, continuing the exchange.

I heard fragments like “Ha-hra? Khur? Rihyar?” but didn’t possess the ability to interpret any of them.

…I really wish they’d at least assigned a translator…

It was Kihmuhir who was meant to handle translation for our group, so there would be no translator provided.

In fact, it would be impossible to add one. The transliteration would never be entirely the same for everyone. To decode each word’s disjointed sounds into elven language and each separate fragment into meaning would require geniuses with extraordinary memorization, a profound understanding of language, and perfect pitch, all at the same time.

It’d be better to leave it to an elven collaborator.

“Ah, I see, so you’re the Saintess sent from the church,”

easily transitioning into song-like conversation, one elder suddenly halted, turning to look at me and speaking.

Seeing someone use informal language immediately after we first met, especially when they usually use honorifics, was quite refreshing.

Not the pleasant kind, though.

“Yes, I am Saintess Clara Anderson.”

I replied to the elderly elven man with long gray hair pulled back and a neatly groomed, lengthy beard, who didn’t introduce himself, so it was natural I wouldn’t know who he was. All I could discern was that he was obsessively neat, meticulously grooming his beard and all.

“You needn’t feel sorry for speaking our common tongue. From our perspective, the human language is far too simple. Since humans cannot grasp our language properly, we, thus, had no choice but to learn to approach you. It’s fine, it’s all fine.”

As that elder chuckled while stroking his beard, I couldn’t help but feel bewildered for a moment.

I’m sorry, but there’s nothing for which I feel sorry!

Moreover, didn’t you call for me? Aren’t I the one doing you a favor?

And have you truly tried to approach me?

The elder spoke human language with a touch of a melodic tone. Honestly, had I not felt bewildered, I might’ve burst out laughing at his musicalized speech.

This would have inevitably led to a catastrophe.

I’m grateful for the common sense that allows me to find such utterances absurd.

“By the way, young lady.”

The middle-aged man seated right beside the tidy-bearded elder spoke, his musical tones just as apparent.

“Can’t something be done about that chest? Even if you’re a different race, flaunting it so openly is too much. Shouldn’t you at least hide it like that human woman standing next to you? It is said humans cannot be found for their modesty, but still, you will be assuming the role of High Priest, won’t you?”

“…What?”

“Excuse me!?”

Aurora and I exclaimed in shock simultaneously.

You all prepared this clothing, didn’t you?!

“W-wait, don’t be so harsh!”

The elderly man beside the middle-aged one said this. He looked like a cross between the old man in the middle and the younger one. He had long hair tied back and a tidy beard, smiling gently.

“Our family is responsible for the attire of the Saintess. From the measurements we received, that body is evidently wholly of the Saintess herself. The form of the humans is unlike that of our elven bodies. It doesn’t necessarily need to be compared to their ears.”

“What the…!?”

The middle-aged elf gasped, wide-eyed.

“Humans are this distant from modesty…?!”

…Well, if we’re distant from modesty, that’s fair enough, especially compared to you lot, you filthy old-timers.

How on earth do you elves procreate? Is there some kind of seed that you plant to grow them?

“And I hear that, for humans, those are a point of pride. If we’re experiencing different cultures, shouldn’t we at least try to understand?”

That elder, lacking a beard, nodded his head as if stroking the air.

“Humans truly…”

What are elves even…

Ah, I suddenly feel like wanting to perform a drop kick.

If I unleash a drop kick here, it’ll definitely escalate into an international incident, right?

---