The Paranoid Elf Queen Turned Me Into Her Sister

Volume 3, 27 ~ Swan’s Elegy

I raised my hand to block the wind pressure blasting toward me, a force so fierce it made it impossible to keep my eyes open. I was standing right in the center of the storm’s eye, yet I was unharmed. When I forced my eyelids to open just a crack, I saw her—the golden-haired girl, standing before me, serene and unyielding. The violent wind lifted the hem of her skirt and strands of her hair, yet she stood unmoving, like a War Goddess, immovable as a mountain.

“Yimi, you’ve done very well.” When I heard this in my ear, I felt my feet leave the ground—I was floating in the air.

My eyes widened, and even my normally blank expression showed a trace of shock.

Teresa had scooped me up into her arms, face to face. I was swallowed and enveloped by her softness, her warmth pressing against me like waves.

Before I could even feel embarrassed, an overwhelming tide of tenderness and maternal warmth engulfed me like a rising spring. The mingled scents of mint and vanilla surrounded my nose, so close I could hardly think—my little head simply went blank from the suddenness of it all.

“Thank goodness you’re safe.” Teresa’s gentle voice made my ears tingle. “We can’t afford to lose any more of our kin.”

“Teresa…”

Before I could say anything more, two slender willow vines sprouted from the buds in Teresa’s palms, lifting my small body with care, and set me back down in a safe spot away from the battlefield.

“From here on, leave everything to me.” Teresa whispered softly, turning her back to me.

She flicked away the long spear hurled by the conglomerate of grudges, and Floral Whisper: Eternal Renewal reshaped itself into a long willow-wood bow twined with vibrant green leaves. She placed two Verdant Fragrance buds upon the glowing bowstring and drew, aiming at the monstrous mass.

【War Goddess Edict: Blooming Rain】

The arrow of light exploded into countless petals and strands of willow, taking root and sprouting across the monster’s skin, growing branches and leaves.

This was an upgraded version of Blooming Rain, requiring the assistance of two Verdant Fragrance buds to release.

The enormous monster was parasitized by roots and branches—roots sucking its life, seedlings sprouting upon its mangled body, stubbornly blooming and bearing fruit atop its head.

Merged with the roots, the monster was pinned in place. If not for its grotesque face and writhing flesh, one might have mistaken it for a towering tree, not a living thing.

The monster of grudges unleashed a scream so loud it shook one’s soul, a screech like a thousand silver needles scraping glass.

The Imperial soldiers covering their ears could barely endure it. They stared at the restrained monster, while Teresa exhaled deeply.

Now came the heart of the sealing ritual—she couldn’t afford even a moment’s distraction.

She took the brocade pouch Yimi had given her, closing her bright eyes. Under her guidance, the torn petals drifted slowly out of the pouch, swirling around her.

The Elf girl’s snow-white fingers tapped delicately, and two buds fell into the soil at her feet, sprouting roots and stems. A soothing natural energy rippled outward, calming the restless hearts of everyone present, as though a breeze of renewal had blown across every soul.

【Verdant Fragrance Derived Art: Flower God’s Blessing】

Two massive plants grew swiftly, as tall as Teresa herself. Their buds unfurled, revealing tender pistils, and two fountains of life force poured over the broken petals and stems.

Teresa closed her eyes and threw out two more Verdant Fragrance buds, draining the last of her Divine Authority.

Four enormous flowers now stood, thick-stemmed and powerful, releasing four streams of life energy into the shattered petals. The withered fragments began to regain color, and under this overwhelming vitality, they started to reassemble, to revive.

“Crack-crack-crack!…” The sharp sound of roots and vines being ripped apart pierced the air. Teresa had clearly underestimated the sheer resilience of the conglomerate of grudges. She had fought until her Divine Authority and strength were nearly gone, and yet the mass still struggled, forcing its mutilated, inhuman body onward, hurling a massive fist at the now-immobile Teresa.

If, at the beginning, it had still resembled a kind of centaur, now it was completely unrecognizable. Its spine had collapsed, its upper body caved in—it now looked more like a four-legged spider.

In the moment of crisis, the monster’s fist halted in midair, trembling, unable to fall even an inch.

Teresa didn’t have to look—she knew it was Yimi behind her, using her witchcraft to momentarily restrain the monster’s movements.

For a single person’s mental power to halt even for an instant a conglomerate made of so many grudges—it was staggering. On the surface, it only looked like Yimi had stunned the monster for a second. In truth, she had stunned tens of thousands of grudges at once.

But it couldn’t last. Yimi alone couldn’t withstand the tide of hate and grievance.

The mental bind was soon shattered. The monster regained its movement, and the pain from the prolonged fight only fueled the regrowth of its grudge energy. Though its form was ruined—like a pile of sludge—it had grown even larger, now towering like a clock tower.

The Imperial legion stared in horror. They’d only ever fought cultists—how could they have imagined facing something like this?

“Firelock squad, open fire on that monster!” At this moment, Gran gave the order.

Amid such chaos, a commander’s voice couldn’t easily reach every soldier—but this was when the Divine Child’s gift shone. Using mental resonance, his command reached every ear, carrying an undeniable pull. Even in the lowest morale, hearing their commander’s voice let soldiers summon a flicker of spirit.

The infantry made way for the firelock men. Well-trained, they fired a volley—the bullets sparking harmlessly against the monster’s back.

“Magicians, form up and attack!” Seeing the firelocks fail, Gran ordered the army’s magicians to strike.

Chants rang out at once. These were battle-hardened mages; even shaken for a moment, they could recover and return fire.

In an instant, mental energy and scrolls wove ice spears, fireballs, and lightning chains, hurling them all at once—bombarding the monster’s undefended back.

Magic struck harder than the firelocks. Meanwhile, the firelock troops had reloaded, unleashing another volley.

Smoke rose from overheated barrels; though they hadn’t injured the monster, they had drawn its attention.

For grudges, there was nothing more hated than those who caused their pain—the very reason they had become grudges in the first place.

Now a bloated amalgam, they had no mind—no sense of prioritizing the most dangerous foe. They simply struck whoever hurt them most.

It turned its head, its face so flattened and featureless it looked like a stretched pancake. A twisted, hideous expression spread across what might once have been features, and from its maw spilled purple, corrosive black flames.

“Shield bearers forward! Magicians, shield wall!” Gran barked brief orders, and activated Divine Appraisal.

But the instant it activated, pain stabbed his eyes. The monster could not be gazed upon—as if simply seeing it pricked his eyes with needles.

Gran covered his watering eyes. As the commander, he couldn’t show weakness—it would crush morale. And morale was one of the most critical factors in winning a battle.

The magicians, barely pausing after the first volley, began chanting again. Countless magic shields shimmered before the ranks. Meanwhile, the formation rotated—firelock men fell back, shield bearers stepped up, forming a double layer of defense.

A disciplined army, well-trained, orderly. Their combat power might even surpass the Imperial cavalry sent from the capital.

Watching Gran stand always at the front line, I felt a flicker of understanding.

A general with no Divine Authority, yet still leading the charge—rare indeed. More fragile than the soldiers, but braver too. Such a sight was the greatest inspiration for those who followed.

By Gran’s calculation, the monster’s first strike should have been bearable. After all, this was a battle of gods—they mortals could only harass the monster a little, draw aggro, lend a bit of token help.

But he hadn’t expected the mages’ magic shields to be as fragile as paper. The instant the poison flames touched them, they melted completely, offering no barrier—spilling over the shield wall and onto the soldiers.

The shield bearers hesitated—glanced down—and saw their shields had already melted into puddles. Next came their own bodies.

The soldiers didn’t even have time to scream—they were reduced to pools of blood and pus in an instant.

Men alive just a heartbeat before were now puddles on the ground. The sight was chilling.

In the nick of time, soldiers shoved Gran to the side. Poison flames swept through the legion—rows of men vanished into smoke.

Shoved aside, Gran stared, shaken. He had known the monster was no ordinary threat—but he hadn’t expected destruction like this.

That blood and pus—moments ago, those had been his comrades in life and death.

Gran clenched his fist. Rage and terror tangled inside him, leaving him helpless—so he turned to look at Teresa, still channeling the power of life.

He didn’t know if he’d bet on the right thing—but there was no turning back now.

Elf Lady, hurry… or we’re all going to die here!

The collapsing army wouldn’t survive a second assault.

Just as the monster turned its head, its gaze locking on Gran, Teresa opened her brilliant eyes. A blaze of green light shone—and a perfect, intact black flower rested quietly in her hand.

The Corpseblossom was also a creation of nature, so it could be repaired by life force—but without filling it with grudges again, it would soon wither once more.

Drawing those grudges back into the Corpseblossom would not be easy.

To seal grudges—the harder you pressed, the farther you pushed success away. These grudges came from the poor, those crushed by suffering. They’d been beaten down by life, their pain feeding their hate.

She couldn’t let them suffer more pain.

With that thought, and under my stunned gaze, Teresa transformed Floral Whisper: Eternal Renewal into a flower ornament and pinned it in her hair. She recalled the four Verdant Fragrance buds, and walked gracefully toward the grudge monster.

At that moment, the monster had not quieted. The pain Teresa had inflicted only stoked the fire of its rage—it seemed ready to raze this place to the ground.

Teresa cast out the four buds again, planting them around the monster. At those four points, walls of life grew, sealing it in.

Sensing the ripple of Divine Authority, the monster’s burning eyes locked on Teresa as she approached. Its hatred nearly became tangible.

Her situation was perilous. I shouted at Teresa again and again, but she never answered.

Teresa ignored everything else. With a graceful wave of her hand, the Verdant Fragrance scattered a spring breeze, petals swirling like a warm spring day, transforming the sealed space into a serene sea of flowers.

The peace and harmony quenched some of the monster’s raging fire of hate. The conglomerate shrank, dwindling down to the size of a human—but its gaze on Teresa was still vicious, like a feral cat on edge.

“I won’t hurt you.” Teresa showed her empty hands. “What I did before—it was only to help you calm down.”

“Stop now. You’ve been striking at the wrong targets.”

Her voice was like heaven’s music—like a brook running over silver bells, the whisper of forests and earth.

“The greedy nobles deserve their lessons. But look behind you—the commoners whose homes you’ve ruined, the soldiers born of the same soil—are they truly your targets for vengeance?”

“Look at their eyes—are they not the same as yours once were? Killing won’t soothe your grudges. It will only give birth more.”

Maybe they didn’t understand her words—but the Elf’s empathy carried Teresa’s intent to the restless spirits.

The conglomerate clearly wasn’t moved. They scoffed inwardly, their hate and rage too deep to be erased by a few words or an Elf’s empathy.

Very well.

Teresa kept walking, closing the distance.

The monster’s shredded throat issued one last warning howl. Though the sea of flowers had softened its hostility, it was still a creature burning on grudge-fueled rage.

And then—just as they thought Teresa would make an aggressive move, planning to obliterate her first—Teresa did something they couldn’t have predicted.

The golden-haired Elf, radiant and beautiful, opened her arms. Her limbs like the supple branches of a willow, she embraced the foul, rotting sludge without hesitation, whispering a soft chant, her voice like music.

Even through the seal, I could hear the tune the golden-haired Elf sang.

It was the Gold Elves’ childhood lullaby—Swan’s Elegy.