The Paranoid Elf Queen Turned Me Into Her Sister

Volume 3 Chapter 10 – Hammocks Are Hard to Sleep On

He hadn’t slept well. Naturally—who could sleep comfortably on such a hard wooden floor?

But that wasn’t the main reason for his poor sleep.

In the middle of the night, Dylin woke up in a haze, feeling as if something heavy was pressing down on him—like sleep paralysis. Whatever it was pinned him down, making it impossible to roll over.

When he opened his eyes, moonlight shone through the window ledge, illuminating the room and casting its glow on a slightly chubby, doll-like face. A few golden strands with a silvery sheen tickled his nose, swaying gently back and forth.

Seeing that she’d woken Dylin, the girl straddling his waist froze.

The two stared at each other in silence under the moonlight, an awkward scene frozen in time.

“Why are you up so late?”

“I…” Yimi averted her eyes. “I was afraid you’d catch a chill sleeping in the living room, so I came to cover you with a blanket.”

“Where’s the blanket then?” Dylin glanced at her empty hands.

“I… was worried I’d wake you if I brought it, so I just wanted to check if you were sleeping soundly.”

“Oh? Then care to explain why both of your hands are around my neck?”

“...........”

Yimi looked down at her soft fingers gently resting on his neck and quietly pulled them away. “I was worried you were cold… so I was checking your temperature.”

“Oh.” Dylin feigned sudden realization. “Right. The neck is the body part closest to true body temperature, so that’s why you were touching it, huh?”

“Mm, yes, exactly,” Yimi nodded rapidly like a pecking chick, her expression unchanged.

“You seriously bought that excuse yourself?” Dylin grabbed her wrists and lifted her up. “You didn’t bring a blanket and claim you wanted to warm me up. Is there even a second blanket in this house?”

“Or did you want to turn into a little heater and snuggle me all night?”

“Next time you come up with a lie, use that little brain of yours and make it at least halfway believable, okay?”

“Okay.” Like a little chick being lifted up, Yimi nodded her tiny head with a blank face. “So… Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Sleep? You sneak out of bed in the middle of the night to interrupt my dreams, and now you say you’re sleepy? If you weren’t sleepy, you shouldn’t have gotten up.”

“No, I am sleepy. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“You didn’t sleep all night, yet now that you finally get a chance, you have enough energy to get up and act reckless? Clearly, missing a night of sleep means nothing to you—your energy’s boundless.”

“I was wrong.” Yimi admitted quickly, her face still expressionless.

She was always like this—eager to admit fault, never willing to change.

“Save your speech for the morning. I’m not in the mood.”

“I told you before—I don’t go easy on people who try to harm me.” A faint, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at Dylin’s lips as he pulled out a bundle of rope from his bag.

“You don’t like soft beds? Fine. Let’s switch to a different ‘bed’.”

“All done.” After a while, Dylin yawned and waved at Yimi. “Goodnight, Yimi. See you tomorrow.”

The next morning, Piece naturally opened her eyes. For her, waking up at a precise hour was just part of her routine.

But today was different. Yesterday, two unfamiliar yet not entirely strange guests had taken up residence in her cabin. This morning, she expected to see them in bed.

To her surprise, the bed still had only her in it.

Already up?

She had woken up early—earlier than most—yet the two guests had beaten her to it.

Walking into the living room, the scene left her silent.

Dylin was nowhere to be seen. A little golden-haired girl swayed back and forth in midair, suspended from a ceiling beam, swaying in rhythm with the breeze from the window.

“.........”

Even with all the knowledge in Piece’s brain, she could not logically explain what had happened during the night.

“Miss Yimi, what are you doing?” She finally asked, her face betraying a flicker of confusion as she stared at the dangling girl.

“.........”

Yimi said nothing. Not because she didn’t want to—but because she couldn’t.

Last night, after stringing her up, Dylin had removed her socks and stuffed one into her mouth to keep her quiet and prevent her from disturbing his sleep.

Piece pulled the white sock from Yimi’s mouth, and she finally let out a breath.

“It’s fine. I was just… sleeping in a hammock.”

“.........”

Piece stared, her calm expression unable to form an adequate response.

“Did you sleep well?”

“No,” Yimi answered honestly. “The hall has no windows. The wind blew me around all night—I couldn’t sleep properly.”

Then why even bother?

“It really wasn’t comfortable. I won’t sleep like this again.”

Piece gave her an odd look. The way Yimi said it so seriously made her feel as if her own intelligence was being mocked.

No intelligent being would believe someone could tie themselves up and suspend themselves from a beam like this. Yet this golden-haired girl insisted on putting on a face like “I did this to myself because I wanted to try sleeping in a hammock.”

Who was she trying to fool?

And are you sure this is a “hammock” and not just you being tied up and hung from the ceiling?

“Mm.” Piece didn’t call her out. “Need help?”

“Mm.” Yimi didn’t refuse. The two emotionless ones exchanged a silent agreement.

Piece untied the rope and let Yimi down.

“Oh, you’re both up?” Dylin returned from outside, having just washed his face. He saw Piece untying Yimi.

“How was your sleep, you two?” he asked, mostly directed at Yimi.

Yimi looked away expressionlessly, muttering, “Two-faced cow.”

To Piece, sleep was just a biological necessity, no different from eating.

She retrieved some refrigerated food from the enchanted icebox—just some vegetable leaves.

Dylin glanced at the ingredients in her hand.

To be honest, he suspected Piece wasn’t human—her diet was all vegetables. She might be an elf.

But that didn’t fully add up.

Elves, who cherished nature and tranquility, wouldn’t settle in a place like this—especially not next to a Corpse-Rot Flower. Physiologically, it should repel them.

Dylin tried using Divine Appraisal to scan her, and the result surprised him. After a flicker of garbled text, it displayed her race as human.

But how could a human live so long and stay eternally youthful?

He had considered that she might be a long-lived race—but Divine Appraisal wouldn’t lie. It must mean her biology leaned more toward humans than elf.

Still, everything about her—her habits, her diet—felt distinctly elven.

Elf-like, but not an elf.

He suddenly remembered what Piece had told him—she had no name, and names meant nothing to her.

Even the food she made matched an elf’s taste exactly.

But this morning’s meal… it tasted exactly like yesterday’s.

“Miss Piece, may I ask—how many years have you lived here?” he asked at the breakfast table.

“How many years?” Piece tilted her head, then shook it. “I don’t keep track of time. But when I first appeared here, that tall city hadn’t been built yet.”

She glanced out the window at the distant walls of Kanz, where the Empire’s eagle flag fluttered.

She’d settled here before Kanz was even built??

That was before the great Demon Race invasion!

Dylin set down his bowl, unease stirring within him as he looked at the ethereal silver-haired girl.

If she was telling the truth—then who was she?

This was just too bizarre.

Dylin thought of the Golden Butterfly Hairpin.

Though unlikely, had he been guided to Kanz on purpose—was the butterfly leading him here to meet her?

Maybe… she knew Teresa?

“Miss Piece, I have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Do you know Teresa?”

“.........”

At the mention of that name, Yimi—who had been silently eating—lifted her head, glancing at both Dylin and Piece.

“Te-ri-sa?” Piece slowly shook her head. “I don’t know her.”

“Who is she to you?”

“No one. Just a question. I don’t really know her either,” Dylin replied, extinguishing his theory.

“Is she human?”

“No, she’s an elf,” Yimi suddenly said, still holding her bowl. “A golden elf royal with extraordinary talent, hailed in elf history as the Elf War Goddess.”

“Elf? Elf War Goddess?” The term made Piece’s gaze flicker.

“What’s her connection to Elica?” After a long pause, Piece asked.

“Elica?” The name sounded familiar to Dylin.

“You mean the first Elf Empress, eldest daughter of Galnorin—the Mother of All Forests and Life? The [Golden Hymn] and [Holy Mother] Elica Galnorin?” Yimi added helpfully, knowing Dylin had amnesia.

“...Mm.” At that name, a ripple appeared in Piece’s otherwise unshaken expression—as though a deity had been touched by mortal sentiment.

“They were like junior and senior. Teresa lived thousands of years after Elica’s divine era,” Yimi said calmly. “Though both were known for their immense Divine Authority and gifted bloodlines, their character couldn’t be more different.”

“Elica sacrificed her soul to become the trunk of the Sacred Tree, blessing the elves for generations. Teresa, well...” Yimi glanced at Dylin with a mischievous smirk. “She’s... just so-so.”

“They’re both golden elves, but they’re not in the same league.”

“E-li-ca.” Piece paid no mind to Yimi’s belittlement of Teresa. Her attention remained on Elica. She murmured the name like a spell, gazing out the window—as if seeing something—before snapping back.

“It’s begun.”

Begun?

Dylin looked in the direction of the city wall. Thick black smoke was rising—like a battlefield cloud.

“What is that?” Dylin stood up.

“Retribution,” Piece said, her voice hollow and ethereal. “Kanz has begun to burn.”

Fire in Kanz?

The smoke was too heavy to be a simple fire. Dylin’s sharp hearing picked up faint cries and screams from within the city—and even a faint metallic scent of blood.

Had Kanz fallen??

That couldn’t be. The Empire wasn’t at war—who would invade?

And the smoke was coming from the city. Even if there was an attack, the walls shouldn’t have fallen this quickly.

Dylin considered another possibility.

A rebellion?

It was possible. But Kanz’s military wasn’t incompetent. They might not be great against foreign enemies, but they excelled at crushing uprisings.

This wasn’t Blue Star’s medieval era. Pitchforks and scythes meant nothing against magic, alchemy, and Divine Authority.

Against trained troops with mages and Divine Princesses, peasants couldn’t stand a chance.

That was why the lower class endured nobility’s oppression—because rebellions never succeeded. A single spell could wipe out dozens. The rest would fall in line.

Still, uncertain, Dylin decided to see for himself.

“Where are you going?” Piece suddenly asked as he moved. “To help? But help who?”

“To help the oppressed humans create chaos? Or to help the oppressors suppress it?”

“I’ll make my own judgment,” Dylin said, understanding her implication: meddling was meaningless.

He stopped at the door. “Besides—I seek answers. The kind hidden behind persecution and war.”

“No matter what you do, you can’t escape causality,” Piece said softly. “Whatever is happening in that city is the result of too much negative energy—the world’s law correcting itself.”

“War, chaos, regime change—these are natural selections.”

“Defying causality is defying the world’s rules.”

“Just like the Corpse-Rot Flower—any attempt to interfere with its growth is doomed to fail.”

Dylin didn’t answer. He pushed open the door and stepped out.

Seeing this, Yimi hopped off her chair and said to Piece, “Excuse me,” before following him.

She was curious—what was he going to do?

As for Dylin, at the moment the smoke rose over the city, something inside his mind stirred—something ancient and long dormant.