In the evening, deep in the Laillette forest, the twisted trees resembled the fur of a curly-maned lion and the tail of a domestic pig.

　　Charles sat on a clean rock, quietly watching two spotted deer with green bodies and white stripes lick the surface of the muddy water.

　　He had been in the Crookedwood area for three days. He had seen two grey-skinned wood elves, who were ugly and rough-skinned, unlike beings reputed to be skilled in magic.

　　Suddenly, the mud in front of him began to change. Grey bark appeared at its center, and then something over a meter tall, with a head and four limbs, separated from it.

　　The not-very-brave spotted deer leaped away.

　　He had seen them twice before. As rumors said, grey wood elves lived here.

　　The thing that could be called a head opened its eyes, its facial features resembling those of an old human.

　　The grey wood elf groped in the mud, then grabbed a handful of grass and put it into its mouth.

　　Charles watched its hands, which now felt around as if searching for a clam.

　　The next action was a bit brutal—it smashed the clam shell and swallowed the meat alive.

　　He could scarcely believe what he saw. "So grey wood elves are truly intelligent?"

　　The creature jumped onto the hard ground, shaking off the black mud, and threw another clam near him.

　　"Do you have any other way of eating it, lizard?"

　　"You can fry it or roast it. I prefer frying, then sprinkling some spices on it."

　　The grey wood elf's mouth hung half-open, its expression suggesting it couldn't quite comprehend.

　　"Strange lizard. Tell me, why have you come to my home? If you don't have a legitimate reason, I will twist your head off."

　　Charles looked down at the elf, who stood just over a meter tall, shorter than his waist. It was unclear who would be twisting whose neck.

　　Drawing on previous experience, he felt confident he could communicate peacefully with this, the third grey wood elf he'd encountered.

　　"To be honest, I'm lost and can't find my cave..."

　　He hadn't even finished speaking before a sad expression appeared on the wood elf's face.

　　"Sorry, buddy..."

　　The lizardman felt uneasy seeing the elf's pity. He didn't want sympathy from a standing piece of bark.

　　"...So, I want to rest for a while."

　　"Anytime. And comfortable mud can be lent to you if you want to sleep in it."

　　"No, I don't want to." His tone was decisive.

　　"Too bad." The gray wood elf stepped back and then returned to its original position. "What kind of grass do you like to eat? Ones with flowers or fruits?" As he asked, he saw the lizard man's tongue shoot out, curl around two flying insects, and swallow them. "Okay, I take back what I just said. Goodbye, disgusting guy."

　　Charles quickly asked his most pressing question. "Can you give me directions? My place is called the Gray Earth Cave."

　　The gray wood elf returned again. "What a terrible name." It placed a hand on the back of its head and activated a detection spell. "Too many detours. The main road is behind you. It takes two and a half days to get there."

　　This third elf coulduse detection magic. Excitement surged through Charles. "Bark, are you serious?"

　　"My name is Rylandi, lizard."

　　"Okay, Rylandi. You just used magic, right?"

　　"As you saw. Detection magic. In the opinion of gray wood elves, only intelligent people like us can use it. It is extremely important for returning to one's residence. You surely agree."

　　Charles remembered his purpose. "I totally agree. Can I ask for your help? I'm actually looking for a human friend..."

　　Rylandi seemed to hear something terrible, its face immediately contorting with anger.

　　"The muddy ground does not welcome humans, nor does it welcome human friends! Get out of here before I lose my temper! Now!"

　　Peaceful communication was no longer possible. Charles had to choose to leave temporarily.

　　He felt deeply disappointed but had to give up, for now.

　　*

　　Along the way, he thought a lot but couldn't figure out why gray wood elves hated humans.

　　In fact, Charles didn't know it wasn't all gray wood elves who hated humans—it was Rylandi himself.

　　In the QuMu district, fewer frogs croaked at night, replaced by the buzz of insects. Following the rule that black was mud, white was stone, and bright patches were water, he walked on alone.

　　He hadn't seen a gray wood elf for hours.

　　"Should I go back?" he occasionally asked himself.

　　After another hour, the insect buzz reduced significantly, signaling the end of the day's journey.

　　He leaped onto a nearby tree, found a trunk that fit his back, gazed at the misaligned crescent moon, and slowly closed his eyes.

　　*

　　He didn't know how long he had slept when he vaguely heard a sound.

　　"Help... help..."

　　The voice grew closer and clearer—undoubtedly a cry for help.

　　A ray of morning sun shone through the trees. On the forest path, a human boy of twelve or thirteen was rolling and crawling, chased by a desperate, hungry wolf.

　　Possibly driven by a warrior's instinct to protect the weak, he involuntarily jumped in front of the boy.

　　"Get behind me, kid," he said, drawing his sword and fiercely chopping off the wolf's head in one smooth motion. He leaped backward, landing protectively in front of the boy. "You're safe now."

　　The boy still looked terrified by his appearance. "You...", he stuttered.

　　"Orc Charles, a hunter. Don't worry, I am quite friendly," he said.

　　The boy's Adam's apple bobbed as he uttered a piercing word: "Slave." Immediately, he seemed to realize his mistake and apologized, covering his mouth with his palm.

　　At that point, Charles didn't want further interaction. "Do you have anything valuable on you? Consider it the cost of wielding my sword."

　　The boy frantically searched his pockets but didn't have a single coin.

　　"Sorry... I... Can you wait? My father will come looking for me soon. He'll definitely have something," the boy said innocently.

　　"Is that so? But I don't have that much patience. Thank the wolf meat instead; it served as a substitute."

　　He walked over to the wolf, kicked its head, and dragged the carcass away, letting the blood flow onto the ground.

　　Occasionally looking back, he saw the boy was still there.

　　"Why care about the words of a child..." he thought.

　　Worried the boy might encounter more danger, he tossed the prey deep into the woods and returned. "The wolf meat doesn't taste good. I prefer gold coins," he said, looking down. The boy seemed relieved and slowed his pace.

　　"You've been running all this time?" he broke the silence.

　　"Yes, sir."

　　"Are we going the right way?" he asked.

　　"I'm not sure..."

　　"Where can we find your father?"

　　"There's a magic circle near it."

　　They talked about simple topics as they walked slowly.

　　*

　　After a while, at a bend in the path, Charles smelled danger. As expected, three arrows shot towards him from a gap between the trees.

　　He pulled the boy behind a tree and nocked an arrow to his own bow.

　　The boy recognized the arrows. "Dad, is that you?" he called out.

　　An excited voice echoed from not far away. "Willie, are you okay?"

　　The boy ran towards the road. "Dad, I'm fine! Mr. Charles brought me here. He's very friendly!"

　　The boy's words resolved the misunderstanding. The lizardman breathed a sigh of relief.