My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 599: An Elf’s Tale, Part

It was the most bizarre feeling she’s ever experienced – the weight of a blade pressing hard against her fingertips, her hand curled into a fist, but yet never striking, her usual hard blows replaced by swift slashes across the open air.

The sword was a completely different sensation compared to her bare hands, different, and yet... not entirely unpleasant, and at times, in a flurry of rapid movement, rending, cleaving, a blur of sharp silver gleaming with every slice... it felt even a little exhilarating.

But alas – it was also extremely draining. She could feel it, how the solid heft of steel pulled at her joints, how every swing swung wild and unruly, the flow momentum abruptly stopping or otherwise too much... almost as if trying, and terribly at that, to tame a frenzied beast – putting herself in stark contrast with her adversary.

Terra flowed free and light. Though quivering, and still mostly recuperating from her previous ailment, her movement was nimble, able to easily dodge her attacks with ease, as well as being able to remain in complete control of her weapon.

Eshwlyn maintained her aggression, raining an onslaught of aimless, purposeless strikes – yet she would continue to only fruitlessly slice away at the air as the human matched her fervor with refined motions, evading every arc, diverting every thrust.

She roared, feeling her veins flare, infuriated, and plunged her blade from high above with both hands gripping. Terra glimpsed, squealed, and instantly raised her branch upwards in contention.

A heavy clangor resounded, reverberated, a rippling echo that easily reached into the skies. Her palms pulsated with the shock, frozen above her head, quivering fingers gripping nothing but air, as her blade soared, plummeted, before embedding itself deep into the earth a short distance away.

.....

And once more, as polar opposites, Terra’s branch remained firm in her upwards hold, undamaged, showing not even a single groove in its smooth timbered surface.

“Kemelstan...” Eshwlyn panted, breathless, her gaze tense with a volatile mixture of frustration and disbelief. “Fermur... nur... jowan’muldra?”

The underlying ramification of the result of this skirmish was devastating, and more than that, extremely unsettling. She lost all sense of self in that final blow, and culminated the entirety of her strength into that plunge... and yet... simply rendered null, futile... by a meager piece of wood held in the thin, bony fingers of a feeble human... the same human that tore that same hunk of timber with barely any effort.

If she could not even strike her down with the best of her might... then how could she ever hope to defend Lenora should the need ever arise? The thought unsettled her, but more than that... the thought frightened her.

Terra expelled a gasp of relief, buckling knees sending her collapsing straight into the grass below.

“Oh, by the Divines!” She exclaimed, wiping the sweat from her brow with still trembling fingers. “I honestly thought I was really going to die just then! What part of ‘don’t kill me’ didn’t you understand?”

As the human took a moment to regain her composure, Eshwlyn shuffled off, keeping her alarming concerns silent, pulling the sword out from the soil – her unease, her dark disquiet, threatening to crush the hilt of the blade quaking slightly within her clutch.

“Okay, so – now that I’ve seen you in action, I can more-or-less pinpoint where you’re lacking and struggling,” Terra proclaimed, back up on steady feet, flourishing her wooden stick with every spoken word. “Obviously your total lack of experience with the sword visibly shows. If a total amateur like me was capable of reading your movement, then you’re seriously in trouble, let me tell you...”

The woman was confusing, puzzling, bewildering... seemingly forgetting her words and sounds were mostly foreign to her ears. The way she spoke, gestured, as if expecting her to immediately comprehend it all. Really – presumptuous, these humans were.

” – of course, your agility, keen instinct, and most importantly, your overwhelming strength kind of negates the need for common weapons...” Terra went on, every word uttered immediately followed with an appropriate motion. “But I would argue it would be to your advantage if you at least learn to be acquainted with the basics... especially so, with the kind of sword you hold in your hand right now.”

Then, once more, the human’s gaze slowly drifted back down to the glimmer of bright silver at her side, a rousing interest forming a smile across her lips.

“Vilum from the Deep Within, did you remember that terrible abomination?” Terra asked, before hastily recorrecting herself, “Sorry, for you Elves it’s... what is its – ? Ah, Vilus Doh’Ba Gaia, right?! I at least know that much! You remember? You know?”

“Vilus...” Her ears perked up. She knew.

The tales whispered, the stories shared, when she was much younger, of a time long ago where a great vile, abomination spurted forth from deep within the very earth itself, emerging from a great ridge that splintered an entire continent into two separate halves.

A colossal monstrosity that eclipsed even the highest mountains, threatening the very foundation of the land... thankfully, eradicated only by a brief union of every species forged in order to wage a brutal assault against the creature that lasted years and took countless lives with it.

“When Vilum was finally slain, its decaying remains then dispersed into withering clouds of this bright silvery dust, as the story goes,” Terra explained. “Spreading everywhere, into every corner, crack, crevice, in Asteria. It’s quite the rarity – to this day, only a slight handful has been found. It’s hard to differentiate, difficult to even notice, but, there’s no doubt... that glint in your sword... it’s clearly been forged in that very same creature’s dying essence.”

Eshwlyn rarely followed, barely comprehending... but completely understood. Slowly, she held out the blade in front of her, its silver luster reflecting pristinely the green of her eyes, and briefly hovering closely behind her... the human woman’s smiling expression.

“As far my knowledge extends – only a sparse few of these weapons have actually been made and utilized,” Terra continued on speaking, twirling around her branch absentmindedly, as her gaze drifted off into a brief ponder. “Whoever it is you did swipe that from... he must have been somebody quite well-renowned to have something like this close with him... in any case, however – let’s just say, you really had a good haul that day, didn’t you?”

Eshwlyn allowed her stare to shift, trailing Terra ambling across the tall grass from afar, still silently admiring the sharp sheen of metal in her grasp... but more than admiration... a fascination, her blue eyes shone, almost like a longing, a want... present for but a single moment, before with a blink, it faded – her lips parting open again, pointing the broken end of the branch directly at her.

“If my education has yet to fail me, I recall due to the special nature of your sword it should possess the unique ability to imbue and scale itself with the strength of its wielder. Of course, the weapon was specifically made for human hands... in any case, I’m sure the effects still apply, and surely it would also be amplified when held in yours. You know?”

The Elf blinked blankly at the woman, the sharp furrow in her brow immediately resurfacing.

“Nope, can’t gesture that into comprehension, sadly” Terra muttered, sighing. “Maybe I could instead, um... ooo! Here, let me – !”

Carelessness had her suddenly shuffling forward, complacency had made her briefly ignorant, and for recklessness, clumsiness – it also had her staring down at the tip of the sword brandished directed squarely at her chest. Eshwlyn made an apprehensive growl, the arm holding her blade struggling to keep in place, to not move a single inch further to skewer.

Terra hurriedly snapped back to her senses, and while still retaining her kind smile, simply and slowly, emptied her hands of any lingering threats and raised them both up to her sides... “Sorry...” then in a grand gesture of mutual trust, she quietly asked the alarmed Elf, “May I?”

There was no need for motions, no need to strip away words to simplicity, the Elf knew what the human wanted. After all, she’s been staring at it at every single opportunity she could, always staring, always wanting... always talking... these dastardly humans... this woman...

“Hold...” Eshwlyn muttered, relented, and then relinquished, inverting the hilt of the blade across from her in a small gesture of offering. “You no... run...”

“No run,” Terra assured, letting the weight of the hilt in her hands slightly sink her arms. “You can trust me.”

‘Trust’ was a word that sounded soft, sounded kind, the type of word that Lenora would likely use. And while from her little sister’s lips, no doubt it would be so pleasant, more than welcomed – from this woman, however, it just sounded strange, unsettling... but yet, if her pride allowed her honesty – it was a sound not entirely unpleasant.

Terra spent some time acclimatizing her grip on the weapons, a few practice swings, cleaving blades of grass... and yet even in that triviality, Eshwlyn could so easily spot the difference between their bearings. How the blade almost seemed to easily adhere to the human’s slightest flicker, whereas she completely struggled to even properly form the simplest curve.

“Now watch me,” Terra gestured for her undivided attention, seamlessly amending her posture into a low, practiced stance. “My teacher always tells me that if you want to swing a sword, then you must be the sword. The typical wiseman he is, he says – in your hands, it’s no longer just a weapon, it’s a part of you – so don’t swing the sword, swing yourself. Like so...”

And what followed after was a series of fluid, limber movements that completely served to astound.

Eshwlyn couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the extravagant display of exuberance and skill, the way she elegantly glided across the air, how every swing never failed to follow another, in a twirl, in a twist, in a thrust, all the while maintaining this perfect picture of ease, of effortlessness, as if the hefty chunk of metal she held in her lands weighted nothing more than the lightest feather.

When she was done, Terra immediately plummeted her arms in a weary slump, breathing hard, and wriggling her face free of her bushy locks.

“I’m about to faint, but surely you get the idea by now, right?” She gasped, handing the sword back to the still bewildered Elf. “Well, how about it, care to give it another go?”

Again, presumptuous, ignorant, the human laid the splintered branch in her hands once more without even waiting for an answer. Facing again towards her in a familiar readied stance.

But for once, in her presumptuous, in her ignorance, the human wasn’t wrong. Eshwlyn gripped her sword, a newfound resolve replacing the aching pain in her palms.

“Once again, I’m reminding you, please try not to kill me, will you?” Terra implored, her smile almost queasy. “I’m trusting you, okay?”

There’s that word again. Trust.

The Elf silently nodded her head, advancing a single step forward, and without a moment’s hesitation – the two entered back into the fray, clashing with one another, trading blows.

Flailing, grunting, Eshwlyn attempted to replicate her actions before, only to then immediately find herself stumbling by its surprising complexity – something Terra took to her advantage, sending her blade striking hard into the dirt, erupting the soil to fall back to the earth in raining grain.

“You’re swinging only with your arms, your balance isn’t balanced,” sounded advice from a gruff breath. “Remember, you are the sword – let it be a part of you.”

“Kemelenen’tar, Nesina!” Eshwlyn shouted in irritation. “You speak... bad...!”

“Oh, right... you’re not Lenora...” Terra gave a nervous, apologetic chuckle. “My bad... ”

Through sheer force, Eshwlyn manage to lift her sword free from the deadlock, promptly resuming their clash, refusing to let failure take hold of her again.

As she stayed relentless on the offensive, gradually, she felt every second swing of her string come seamlessly. Her movement continued to stay rigid, and stiff, but the flow of her blows on the other hand slowly began to strengthen, lighten... no longer a bizarre sensation, no longer a feeling entirely different. It was beginning to feel natural.

Though she was still far from ever hoping to match the fluidity and nimbleness of Terra’s form, right now, for now... it was enough... slashing, striking, momentum growing... her opponent is struggling, straining...

Through a long series of back and forth, attacking and defending, suddenly they found themselves plunged back into a familiar position, with her blade held high above her head, and Terra with her sturdy branch raised upward in contention.

Once more, funneling all her strength, Eshwlyn plunged her sword, striking, colliding.

Another booming sound resonated across the vicinity. A snap, an explosion, as the branch splintered into two halves, the sharp shimmer of the sword cleanly slicing through, still plummeting, still striking, its serrated edge inches away from between Terra’s widening eyes.

Then, at the very last second, the blade halted, its momentum stalled, and peering beyond it, a vibrant shine of green loomed over her, beaming bright, and for the first time, manifesting right beneath the glow of emerald green, a small smile shone back at her, brighter than any other.

“You did it,” Terra whispered, slowly shuffling herself out of the range of the blade, before collapsing once more atop buckling knees. “Oh, by the Divines, you actually did it.”

“Kesta...” Eshwlyn muttered, lowering her sword and pacing slightly back, her wide eyes blinking disbelievingly. “Kesta!”

Completely and utterly drained of all stamina, Terra resigned herself to resting amidst the gentle sway of the tall grass, desperately fighting to keep awake despite fatigue’s growing influence.

But before her eyes could completely shut, through heavy eyelids, she saw again those same glowing, glimmering beads of bright green.

“You’re welcome by the way...” She managed to say, her lips expelling a feeble sigh. “Not that you even understand me anyway, do you?”

Eshwlyn lingered her smile, the bright glow of her eyes, as she felt her lips slowly begin to conform into a familiar, pleasant shape, “Thank... you...”

“Oh, what? An Elf thanking a Human?” Terra amusingly giggled, just as slumber finally took hold. “That’s not something... you hear... everyday...”

And true enough, it wasn’t. Eshwlyn herself readily agreed with that sentiment. But doing it, despite it, was once more an experience different, an experience foreign.

But not entirely unpleasant.