Empathy

The average lifespan of a typical elf is around 1,500 years, while elven royals can live up to 2,500 years.

This long lifecycle means their childhood lasts far longer than other races. By normal growth rates, an elven royal takes at least 500 years to mature from infancy to adulthood.

However, 500 years is too long for the outside world, where one elf’s maturation outlasts five human generations.

To meet external demands, methods to accelerate elven growth were developed.

Elves are naturally beautiful, their females especially irresistible to human men.

Jaded human nobles, tired of ordinary women, often target vulnerable underage elf girls. Where there’s demand, there’s trade. A chain of elf trafficking naturally formed.

Fearless mercenaries, emboldened by wealth, risk the Elven Kingdom’s wrath to infiltrate the Elven Forest, capturing lone elf children or women.

Adult elves are formidable, deterring most mercenaries, but underage elves, like most young creatures, are frail.

Organized mercenary groups exploit this, and despite the Elven Kingdom’s crackdowns, the trade persists.

Most captured elves are minors. While some human nobles prefer undeveloped lolis or young girls, most have conventional tastes.

Waiting a century for an elf to mature is impossible—humans would be dust by then.

Thus, an insidious alchemical drug was invented: the Elf Growth Accelerator, a vivid purple liquid. Injected into an underage elf, it triggers rapid maturation in just two to three days.

This drug lets human nobles savor mature elves, fueling a gold-driven market.

Elf trafficking now pairs with the drug, with mercenaries injecting it into captured minors for higher auction prices.

But the drug’s side effects are horrific. An elf, meant to live 1,500 years, blooms like a forced flower, only to wither swiftly.

Studies show injected elves rarely live past 30 years—a lifespan slashed from 1,500. The reduction is staggering and terrifying, a cruel alchemical tool crafted for human pleasure with no regard for elven health.

Despite the Elven Kingdom’s outrage, they’re powerless. The drug’s workshops hide in human empires, beyond elven reach. Interfering risks accusations of foreign meddling, inviting united opposition from other factions.

Reading these accounts, Selina’s hands trembled with rage. She’d never felt such fury, not even when her memories returned.

The records of her kin’s suffering made her heart quake.

Slamming the book onto the chair, she leaned back, eyes closed, breathing heavily with shaky gasps.

Hearing the commotion, Felicia set down her book, her gentle gaze fixed on her sister’s heaving chest, emerald eyes full of concern.

“What’s wrong, sister? Did you read something upsetting?”

After breakfast with Karina, the sisters parted ways. Karina attended to state affairs, while Selina, bored, headed to the elven library to pass the time. Felicia, ever the doting sister, tagged along.

Initially, they each chose books and read quietly. Felicia occasionally glanced at Selina, whose focused profile was as lovely as ever under the window’s soft light.

But moments later, why had Selina slammed her book down, looking enraged?

Too upset to speak, Selina kept her eyes shut, pointing at the book. Felicia glanced at the cover and understood.

She knew why her sister was angry. As a princess, Felicia had read this book and felt the same rage.

Elves were kind, avoiding conflict with other races, yet greedy humans repeatedly crossed their boundaries. Any elf would feel indignant.

But as angry as she was, seeing Selina share her emotions brought Felicia a flicker of relief.

Her sister was still her pure sister; her recent worries were overblown.

Others might not know, but Felicia and their mother did: the second princess was once Kant, a man reborn through a white cocoon after his death before Felicia’s eyes. Yet, the Sacred Bath’s anomalies and Selina’s recent odd behaviors sparked concern.

Selina’s past life was male, and the Sacred Bath affected the mind and soul.

If something went wrong, recalling her past memories, would Selina still be her sister? Worse, Felicia had indirectly caused Kant’s death. Would a memory-restored Selina still accept her as a sister?

These fears haunted Felicia for days. But seeing Selina’s expression now—so like her own past reaction—eased her heart.

Elves have strong empathy for their kin. Selina’s anger mirrored Felicia’s, proving her worries were unfounded.