9th Grade Civil Servant In Another World Chapter 147 - Necessary Evil (4)

Namir carefully scrutinized the man before him.

A young man covered in sweat and dust.

Flames blazed in his eyes, and undisguisable hostility was written across his face.

Honestly, he was at a complete loss for what to say to someone like this.

Namir took a deep breath, approached closely, and untied the ropes binding his hands and feet. When he removed the gag from his mouth, Ashtard breathed heavily and roughly.

Just like a wild dog.

“Ashtard.”

Namir hesitantly offered him a water pouch. Ashtard simply let the gushing water pour all over himself.

For a moment, only harsh breathing echoed in the barracks. Namir put away the empty water pouch and sat down in a chair.

“Let’s talk.”

Please don’t let his voice tremble.

Ashtard glared at him.

“Who are you?”

“Fa-Namir. I’m the second son of Great Chieftain Fa-Shahin of the Fa tribe. I’m also the half-brother of Fa-Elhar.”

“……”

Ashtard kept his mouth firmly shut.

“Why did you throw the bomb?”

It was a question that had been circling in his head constantly.

Why.

Why on earth.

Why such a reckless act.

“……”

“Was it because you were angry? Because you found it disagreeable that we joined hands with humans to devour the Great Desert?”

Ashtard’s eyebrows twitched. His face reddened and tension filled his brow.

“My family died!”

The desperate voice pierced his heart.

“You sold the land arbitrarily and mercilessly slaughtered those who protested! Meanwhile, the great chieftain received a fortune for himself. You said you’d give us shares when resources are extracted? Then what about us? What do we gain? The grief of losing family?! Is that the price?!”

Ashtard’s body trembled violently. Undisguisable despair and rage seeped across the young man’s youthful face.

“I see.”

Namir replied blankly.

When someone had lost family, it would be strange for him to offer comfort. It would be nothing but hypocrisy. No words could possibly console such loss.

He hadn’t thought persuasion would be possible anyway.

Namir fell silent for a long while.

No matter how much he thought about it, all he could do now was ramble.

“My mother also passed away.”

At the unexpected words, Ashtard frowned.

“So what are you telling me to do about it? Don’t tell me you think we’re in the same situation…”

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

Namir shook his head and cut him off.

“Listen. As someone from the Ban tribe, you might not know this. But the fact that my mother was human is famous, right?”

At his vacant look as he spoke only his own thoughts, Ashtard nodded absently.

“She was a poet, they said. She came traveling on her own because she thought she could write wonderful poetry if she saw the scenery of the Great Desert. Somehow she fell in love with my father, and, um…”

Namir smiled awkwardly.

“Anyway, my mother was a thorn in the side of the tribal people. Even more so because she gave birth to me. I was nothing but an obstacle to the clear succession structure.”

“Why do I have to listen to this story right now—”

“That’s probably why she died.”

Ashtard’s mouth, which had been about to spill harsh words, snapped shut.

“It was my uncle’s doing. He had always hated me anyway. He said I should be driven out. That I was mixed with human blood, that I was a disgrace to the tribe.”

***

“Urk!”

A strange hiccupping sound flowed from the child’s mouth.

The gritty texture of sand penetrating through his sandals to his feet, wind cold enough to numb his cheeks.

Everything felt unreal. Though the eight-year-old boy didn’t yet understand the word ‘unreal.’

A few steps ahead.

In the hand of the man who had just emerged from the tent was a blood-red knife.

The woman’s head in his other hand looked gentle and peaceful as always. If not for the red liquid streaming down from below her neck.

Namir realized from the wafting smell that it was blood. A trail of blood led from inside the palace walls all the way to the sandy ground.

“M-Mother…”

He staggered backward and fell hard on his bottom. A faint, childish whimper escaped.

“Namir? Come here.”

His uncle smiled and beckoned.

He desperately shook his head, but the man’s face hardened as he strode forward.

“Aah! Aaaaah!”

A terrible scream burst from Namir’s mouth. He jumped up and ran frantically.

Lights came on here and there and people stuck their heads out.

His uncle was executed.

His limbs were torn apart and he died, then was thrown outside the village to become jackal food.

Namir vividly remembered those glittering eyes of the man who had tried to persuade his father until the very end.

Of course, his father wasn’t persuaded at all. He had never seen such a terrifying side of his father since then.

Elhar was twenty years old and, disgusted by the entire situation, left the tribe without regret.

Feeling the ominous atmosphere on his skin, Namir tried his best to understand the situation.

As his mind matured and the more he pondered, the more his uncle’s words seemed right.

That his father had needlessly fallen in love with a human and caused strife.

If she hadn’t married his father, his mother would have lived freely in the outside world, writing poetry to her heart’s content.

She wouldn’t have had any reason to suffer such an unjust fate.

If he hadn’t been born, his uncle wouldn’t have gone mad like that, and his brother wouldn’t have left either.

***

“All of this—my uncle hating humans, the Fa tribe rejecting my mother—it was all brought on by humans themselves. If they hadn’t persecuted us so terribly a thousand years ago—”

Namir’s voice was calm and even. That made it feel like falling into an abyss.

Ashtard couldn’t understand that strange disconnect. He didn’t want to hear any more of this story reeking of decay.

“I don’t care why you came to hate humans!”

When he shouted angrily, Namir’s eyes widened.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I threw that bomb to sabotage your work, not for revenge or hatred or any of that crap! Your sob story can go to hell!”

This was Ashtard’s true feeling. While locked in that dark room passing time, he had at least convinced himself of this.

His uncle’s death had motivated him, true, but his purpose wasn’t revenge.

The humans were sucking the elves dry. They were stealing their homeland and trying to wither them to death. Just like when they destroyed the elf kingdom a thousand years ago.

It was the return of the invaders.

The traitorous bastards licked up the sweet drippings while massacring their own kind.

So the humans and traitors had to be driven out. Wasn’t it quite simple?

“Mm, is that so?”

Namir tilted his head and smiled awkwardly.

“But you know, do you know why my brother Elhar and I are rushing things, even killing people? Why we’re reviving the lost Elrahatan and trying to rebuild an elven nation for the first time in a thousand years…”

“Obviously, to exploit us more efficiently.”

Ashtard’s voice, which had been answering curtly, suddenly stopped.

They could have done it more cunningly.

They could have done it more slowly, infiltrating so gradually that the victims wouldn’t even notice.

Any elf knew how terrifying and certain a method it was to control someone with money.

They also knew that one had to be extremely cautious when spending money.

So to deceive elves who were called money demons, they should have been exceedingly careful.

Yet Fa-Elhar and the five tribal chieftains had pushed things through obviously carelessly and hastily.

They couldn’t have been unaware that extreme backlash would erupt.

And…

“What did the humans promise to give you to make you do such things? Why would someone with such terrible grudges as you attach yourself to them?!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re curious. Now I’ll tell you the reason.”

Namir looked at Ashtard directly with relief.

***

Namir pulled something from his pocket and held it out toward Ashtard.

Photographs capturing the scenery of some city.

“Do you see this?”

Lüdelheim District 13, factories, airships, military parades.

“I decided to see with my own eyes whether humans are really all bad or not. I joined my brother’s company and stayed in Schufaben. The conclusion I reached was…”

Namir’s eyes sparkled.

“Whether humans are good or bad isn’t the important issue. They’re terrifying. They’re developing at a terrifying pace.”

“What?”

“You know too, Ashtard. Didn’t you see it in the newspapers? What humans are doing.”

Ashtard knew, of course.

There were newspaper companies and broadcasting stations for each tribe in the Great Desert, though small ones.

They often conveyed not only news from the Great Desert but also major events happening in human countries.

“…War.”

“Right. Humans have developed by fighting each other. They’ve fought constantly since the empire’s fall. Now they’ve started fighting again. They’re trying to unleash the power they’ve been accumulating for so long.”

“So what about it?”

“This is our opportunity.”

Namir told Ashtard everything he had seen.

The humans developing at a terrifying pace. Especially war technology, how to efficiently squeeze people dry.

He heard factory stories from Oscar. He heard from Lucas how the military operated. He heard Daniel’s memories from his journalist days, and Georg’s insights into street life.

That’s why he understood humans.

They were predators who became irritated if they fell behind others even for a moment.

“We don’t have time to be leisurely. If we don’t prepare quickly, we’ll be devoured by that wave.”

Namir emanated a completely different atmosphere than before. Ashtard resisted that overwhelming presence.

“Your words have no basis whatsoever! With just such uncertain beliefs, you made your own people bleed…!”

“Do you know how many humans my brother, Elhar, has killed?!”

Namir shouted.

“Probably over several dozen. If you include those killed indirectly, it might approach several hundred. His hands are covered in blood!”

Namir’s voice now sounded like sobbing.

“Humans are cruel. And this age is brutal. Only we didn’t know. Only we elves, trapped in the Great Desert with our eyes and ears blocked!”

Namir felt like he was going mad.

What he wanted was just one thing.

A peaceful life.

A life of peacefully studying history, collecting antiques, and living harmoniously with family.

He had never wanted to become a tribal chieftain, and though his heart raced at the idea of founding an elven nation, he didn’t want to be responsible for the side effects—things like bomb terrorism.

But the times and fate forced him to move forward.

That point made Namir frantically anxious.

Because he knew that if he cowered in fear, he might truly die.

“Elhar always told me,

‘You’re still too naive. I wish you could stay that way forever. But that won’t happen.’

I learned in Schufaben. It’s an age where being naive leads to destruction. Like you, Ashtard. I don’t want to die!”

Namir shouted as if venting his frustration.

“I like quiet things. I like landscapes and cultures that never change. But the times won’t allow that. If I stay like that, I’ll perish. I have to change. I hate it to death, but I have to.

It’s a cruel thing to say, but now isn’t the time to whine. I’m sorry we made you lose your family. I’d like to impeach Ban-Diyab for handling things that way if I could.

But even if I did, the fact that you lost your family wouldn’t change. Neither would bombing or killing humans.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

Ashtard also wailed like Namir. His panting face was burning bright red.

“Even if you’re right, I don’t want to join hands with humans! Especially not if beloved people have to bleed for that alliance! I don’t want to lose my freedom and be enslaved!!”

“Are you certain everyone feels that way?”

“…What?”

Namir, his eyes reddened, asked again.

“Are you certain that our compatriots all want a free life without humans rather than a new nation and vast wealth, Ashtard?”

“Of course!”

Namir stared at him quietly, then spoke in a sunken voice.

“Let’s make a bet.”

***

“Hah…”

As soon as he left the barracks, Namir’s legs gave out and he collapsed.

He had never imagined he could tell someone about events from ten years ago.

‘I’ve been forcing myself not to even remember until now.’

Was this the reality of Lucas’s attitude of ‘using everything’—the one Daniel was trying to accept?

They’re naively careless and innocent. That’s precisely why there’s so much they can do.

That was Fael’s conclusion after hearing Namir’s story.

“What an insane idea, Namir.”

Fael chuckled and said, making Namir hang his head deeply.

“I’m sorry for deciding on my own, brother.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Fael looked pleased.

There had been an emergency announcement by President Daniel Hartmann.

In two weeks, there would be a public execution of the notorious half-breed terrorist who had stirred up the pioneer village—the subject of all the rumors.