Chapter 4 - Snow White's Son

Translator's Note:

Hello, I hope you've all been doing well.

Here you go, and I wish you a good read.

And as I said before, if you wish to read ahead, you can head over to my Patreon to get early access to all the translated chapters.

The source of the pull lay far above on the tenth floor, while Crow himself stood on the eighth.

 

Though he strained his ears to catch their words, the sounds echoed eerily through the tower's vast expanse, rendering them almost impossible to decipher.

 

"Is something wrong? Are they safe?"

 

With a flick of his wrist, Crow extinguished the candle's flame and raced up the staircase. The closer he drew to the upper floors, the clearer the cries became, each echo striking dread into his heart.

 

Never had he heard the elves cry out in such distress.

 

Though they appeared small in form, the seven elves possessed formidable magical prowess, capable of enveloping the forest in towering thorns or treading the tower's walls as if they were mere ground.

 

They were his invincible guardians, sharing their wondrous magic through the milk they gifted him, becoming for Crow an invincible source of support and solace.

 

"Are you all well?!"

 

"It is time!" Ernst shouted as Crow reached the top floor.

 

Yet, to his dismay, where seven elves had stood, only four remained. In their place danced shimmering silver lights, like flecks of glitter cast into the air.

 

Clothes lay strewn upon the floor, as if three souls had departed all at once, and on top of them rested a pendant, its gemstone glimmering with a light that should have never parted from its bearer, whether they stood clothed or bare, or transformed into tall men.

 

"Ernst, what has happened? What is the meaning of this?"

 

"Crow, our lives as elves are said to span roughly two centuries!"

 

"Being septuplets, we depart nearly together. Soon, I too shall vanish!"

 

Following Ernst's words, Schuchten, who usually spoke softly, raised his voice in a similar manner.

 

And in the blink of an eye, his form began to waver.

 

His bronzed skin shimmered as if dusted with silver, and without a sound, he suddenly disappeared.

 

His pendant fell to the ground alongside his clothes, clattering with a mournful echo.

 

"W-wait... No! Why must it happen so suddenly… No, do not speak such lies!"

 

"An elf's passing is always abrupt, dear Crow. Please, do not weep for us. When first entrusted with you, we thought it a burden most cumbersome, yet it was but a fleeting moment in time. Meeting you filled our hearts with immense joy."

 

The remaining three elves, though tears glimmered in their eyes, smiled through the sorrow; it was the ever-cheerful Heiter who spoke, his grin unwavering as he shimmered with silver light, beginning to fade.

 

"No! This cannot be... Please, wait! Heiter... Please, do not leave me!"

 

Crow fell to his knees, tears flowing freely, and reached out to embrace Heiter's small frame. But all he grasped was empty clothing, the warmth of the elf already gone. Nearby, Myude's body also began to disappear.

 

"Crow, this is the end, but before I go, I shall break my promise and reveal our secret. You are the second prince of Green Valley. All those gifts—they were sent by your elder brother, Crown Prince Kyle."

 

"—What? No… Wait! Don't leave me! Do not let anyone else disappear!"

 

Crow clutched at Myude's shoulders, shaking him desperately, but his hands closed around nothingness, slipping through as if the elf's form were mere mist. His fingers grasped at air—there was no longer the sensation of flesh or bone beneath his touch, only a hollow emptiness, as if trying to catch a fading breath.

 

Amidst the swirling, gleaming light, Crow's gaze fell on the last remaining elf—Ernst. He wanted to hold him, to cling to him, but his body felt frozen, heavy with grief, and all he could do was clutch his trembling hands together.

 

"Ernst... please... I don't want this... it's too sudden! Just stay with me!"

 

"I'm sorry, Crow. There's no time left, but listen closely. From now on, you must only drink the milk of the one you love most in your heart. Do not kiss, touch, or bare yourself to anyone else. These things are only for the one you cherish above all, and no other. You must never forget this."

 

Crow's heart pleaded, his tear-filled eyes begging the universe for mercy. Please, please don't disappear... There was still so much he didn't know, so much left to learn. I'll be good. I won't ask any more questions, I promise! Just don't leave me... don't leave me alone... But time was cruel, and no amount of pleading could stop its advance.

 

The small hand he had grasped faded away, and Crow found himself clutching only the empty air once more. Ernst's final moments were a dazzling yet sorrowful sight—his body glowing with silver light, ethereal, until he vanished completely, leaving nothing behind but his clothes, shoes, and the precious pendant.

 

"I... I can't bear it... wait... I don't want this... don't leave me!"

 

Unlike human death, their end would come abruptly, without warning. Crow could do nothing but watch as one by one, they were taken from him. Why couldn't I go with them? Why couldn't I, too, become the eighth elf and dissolve into light?

 

From the moment Crow could remember, they had always been there—guiding him, protecting him. As he grew, the seven elves had climbed the tower three times a day to visit, teaching him how to read, how to write, how to draw and dance. They had been his family, his everything, and now he could not imagine life without them.

 

"Ugh... ahh..." Crow sobbed uncontrollably.

 

Please, please come back... Don't leave me alone. Tell me it was all just a trick... that it was all magic, a playful illusion. When I turn around, you'll all be standing there, laughing, telling me it was just a joke, right?

 

But behind him, there was nothing. No warmth, no familiar laughter, no mischief.

 

Crow wept, his long hair wild and disheveled as he sobbed uncontrollably, too frightened to even turn around. Instead, he gathered up the seven sets of clothing into his arms, holding them close, as if hoping to restore life to them through sheer force of will. The clothes still held the warmth of their wearers, and it was as though at any moment, the elves might spring back to life.

 

They had been so full of joy and kindness, always dancing, always singing. Mischief-makers they were, teasing Crow with half-told truths and playful tricks, but their hearts were pure. To think their lives—so precious, so irreplaceable—could end like this... it felt far too soon.

 

Even if they had lived nearly two centuries, Crow's heart cried out, it was far too soon.

 

Through his tears, Crow gathered the seven small stone pendants, one belonging to each of them, when suddenly he felt a tremor beneath his feet. A deep, groaning sound, like the cracking of green wood, echoed from some distant place, rolling through the sky.

 

Still holding the elves' clothes and pendants, Crow rushed to the window. There, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, the dark forest below was in turmoil.

 

"The wall of thorns... it's withering away..."

 

A great portion of the towering wall that encircled the vast forest had changed color, and with a loud rumble, part of it collapsed. Birds took to the sky in a great flutter, darkening the heavens as if it were already dusk.

 

The wall of thorns, once a fortress protecting the forest, had begun to fade because the seven elves who had enchanted it were now gone from this world. Magic, like curses, can outlive its caster, but the strength of its endurance depends on the depth of the will behind it. Some spells may last for centuries after death, while others fade as quickly as a fleeting breath.

 

Not all of the thorned wall had vanished, but even the smallest breach would suffice to change the forest forever. Where once there had been no path, now there was an opening—an entryway. Soon, humans would come. Wolves, newly awakened from winter's sleep, would come.

 

The forest, a haven for small creatures and birds, untouched for years, would soon be visited by hunters and great beasts alike.

 

Crow, trembling in fear, collapsed by the window, too frightened to even peer outside. He had never feared the thought of hunters before. In fact, he had dreamt of the day a human might wander into the forest. He had imagined using his magic hair to pull them up into the tower, to hear tales of the outside world. He had longed for that day.

 

But now, everything felt different. Now, the forest's visitors terrified him.

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