The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 200: Drow’s Resolve

Naturally, a dark elf who valued his light elf’s safety would be filled with unease.

According to their own logic, a dark elf with overflowing protective instincts would feel that there was no truly safe place on the continent, that danger lurked in every corner.

And now, not only was the light elf wandering everywhere, he was also going to take part in the treacherous war.

A series of such actions would naturally make the dark elf uneasy.

Although the dark elf himself might not realize this, one of their better qualities was that they would never try to stop their soul-bonded partner from doing what they wanted.

Sebastian patted Drow on the shoulder, wearing an expression that said he understood.

He comforted him in a soft tone. "It’s alright, it’s alright. This war is mostly for show. Nobody is actually going all out. The Demon Race has already established diplomatic ties with the nations on the main continent. Everyone is an ally. No one is going to go all-in for real. Besides, that Yaguk-whatever country hasn’t made contact with us yet, but it’s no big deal. All their allies have already turned against them. They’re the only ones left, and they haven’t made a move. And besides, aren’t we still here? Just relax. As long as nothing unexpected happens, this war will be easy."

Drow: "..."

Now he was even more worried. What was he supposed to do with that?

Sebastian caught the look of disdain from the dark elf and immediately felt a tightness in his chest. Fortunately, he had strong mental endurance and did not crumble from it.

He sighed helplessly and said, "You need to trust in our ability. Besides, aren’t you here too?"

Drow’s expression shifted slightly, clearly touched. The sense of unease in his heart was somewhat suppressed, though not completely gone.

Hopefully...

Drow let out a soft breath and hoping this war would pass smoothly.

Up until now, Drow had never dared to recall the events of his previous life.

He didn’t dare to touch those memories, to reopen old wounds in the hope of healing.

To him, that matter was like a brand, an indelible scar.

Every time it was peeled open, fresh blood would flow uncontrollably, and the pain would become unbearable.

And now, someone had placed the raw and naked truth right in front of him, forcing him to confront it directly.

He could not cowardly run away from it, and that was nothing short of torture, compelling him to relive the events of his past life.

When faced with Nueronist’ "prophecy," he could not help but wonder if this was supposed to be the so-called "ending," the predetermined fate.

Drow’s hands, which were hidden behind his back, clenched tightly.

His fingernails dug deep into his palms, leaving visible crescent-shaped red marks.

Fortunately, a shred of remaining rationality in his mind held him back and stopping him from doing anything extreme—like squeezing his hand until it bled, which would have alerted Illiya, who sat beside him, to something being wrong.

He had already revealed too much.

He didn’t want to be fully exposed, nor did he want Illiya to know about his death in the previous life.

That life, which should have been radiant and brilliant, had ended in severe injury and illness, brought about by a group of vile and unfamiliar people.

In the end, he had dragged his sickly body to death, full of regret.

Every time he thought about it, his heart twisted with pain.

His soul-bonded partner, Illiya, was someone who should walk a path of glory and honor, not someone fated to die young, as proclaimed from the mouth of a fallen demon like Nueronist.

Drow would never acknowledge that prophecy.

Nor would he believe the claims of countless others that fate, once confirmed, could not be changed.

If fate truly could not be changed, then why had he returned to the moment when he first encountered his soul-bonded partner? And why had the point of inevitable death been altered?

This time, he would never let Illiya walk down the tragic path of his previous life.

"I once longed for the moon and stumbled toward it. Because of the moon, I shone brightly. But the moon fell because of me. I longed to embrace the moon, but in the end, the moon embraced me instead."

The war was about to begin, but Drow felt a deep unease in his heart as if something he was unwilling to face was about to happen.

The restlessness in his heart was so obvious that even outsiders could easily sense it.

His expression that was often mocked by everyone as emotionless now showed waves of emotion.

His brow furrowed, his lips pressed tightly together, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously drooped.

The aura around him became frighteningly intense.

Anyone who did not know the truth might have thought he was about to cut someone down.

Drow’s unusual behavior naturally did not escape the eyes of everyone around him.

Some bored demons began to entertain mischievous thoughts.

One of them was the chief steward of the Demon Realm, Sebastian, who now had nothing to do after organizing the army.

From the moment he first saw the dark elf Drow following like a shadow behind the little elf Illiya whom his old friend had pointed out must be protected Sebastian had a thought.

That was, teasing this overly proper dark elf would definitely be fun.

After all this time, his initial thought had not changed.

Besides, it had been far too long since he had seen a pairing of light and dark elves.

The last time he saw one was during the age of the previous Demon King. It was a time when the stars themselves seemed to shine more brightly.

Everyone knew that particular pair of elves had crushed countless opponents.

Even he had suffered several losses at their hands.

That had been during his reckless youth, when he had foolishly tried to provoke the two of them.