Chapter 12: Please Just Reprimand Me

The sound of hooves echoed through the quiet forest path.

The wind brushed against Tengen’s face as he sat tall on the horse, Sari clinging nervously behind him. Her small hands gripped his coat tightly, her cheek pressed against his back. On the other side, Ren rode his own horse, his posture still awkward, but there was determination in his eyes.

They had been traveling for days, the forest canopy above painting shifting shadows across their path. The air was calm, the birds chirping, as though the world itself had no knowledge of the storm waiting ahead.

Tengen grinned as he spoke, his voice filled with rare warmth.

“You two are gonna love it here. The Dark Elves? They’re the best people in the whole world.”

Sari tilted her head against his back, her tone curious. “Better than humans?”

“Way better!” Tengen said without hesitation. “Yoruha’s there, you’ll like her. She’s a total brat, but fun to hang around with. We always do dumb cool stuff together.”

Ren chuckled softly. “Doesn’t sound very… chief-like.”

“Of course not.” Tengen puffed his chest, eyes gleaming. “That’s what makes it great.”

Then his smile softened as he spoke again, voice almost reverent. “And then there’s Dravel… that guy’s like, the perfect knight. Stoic, calm, always has your back. Dumb as a rock sometimes, but… dependable.”

Ren grinned at that, and even Sari giggled faintly. The mood was light, warm, and Tengen couldn’t help but smile wider, imagining their faces when they’d meet his friends.

But then...

The trees parted.

And in the distance, the village came into view.

Tengen’s smile froze. His throat tightened.

The once-proud gates stood shattered, broken planks leaning at unnatural angles. The watchtowers, scorched black. Smoke scars still lingered in the air, the smell of ash faint but sharp. Houses were collapsed, the streets torn, patches of earth gouged as if giants had stomped them into the ground.

Tengen’s face drained of color.

“No…” he whispered.

Ren’s eyes widened, horror painting his young face. “Tengen-aniki…”

Sari’s grip tightened, her small voice trembling. “This… this is the home you spoke so kindly of?”

Panic roared through Tengen’s chest. He spurred the horse faster, hooves thundering as the beast galloped toward the ruined gates.

“Hold on tight!” he barked, his usually carefree tone cracking into urgency.

The guards at the entrance looked up, startled, then their eyes widened as they recognized the dark coat and the strange boy upon the horse.

“T-Tengen-sama!” one cried, his face breaking into relief.

They dropped their weapons and bowed, voices overlapping.

“He’s returned!”

“Tengen-sama has returned!”

But Tengen didn’t smile. His eyes darted frantically across the broken village, his chest tight, his thoughts spiraling.

What the hell happened here? Why is everything broken? Did… did I fail them?

Inside Lireath’s hut, the air was heavy. Lireath sat at the table, her staff resting at her side, exhaustion faintly visible in her pale features. Yoruha was pacing back and forth like a restless cat, while Dravel leaned against the wall, arms folded, his expression calm as ever.

Then the door burst open. A guard stumbled in, breathless, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement.

“Elder! Lady Yoruha! Lord Dravel!, Tengen-sama… he’s returned!”

The room froze.

Lireath’s lips parted, her eyes lighting up with shock, then overflowing warmth. A smile bloomed across her face, her usual composure cracking for the first time in weeks.

“Tengen-sama…” she whispered, almost like a prayer.

Yoruha’s eyes went wide. Her whole body jolted.

“He’s back?!” she shouted, and without another word, she bolted for the door. Lireath shot up instantly, both of them colliding in the doorway, shoving at each other like children.

“Move, brat! I must greet him first!” Lireath snapped, her composure gone.

“No way, Grandma! He’s my best friend!” Yoruha barked back, baring her teeth as she shoved harder.

The two most important figures in the Dark Elf village, its Elder and its strongest warrior, squabbling like two children fighting over candy.

Dravel let out a long, heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“…Our Lord truly is cursed,” he muttered. “To be led by these two…”

He looked out at the ruined village, his chest heavy with unspoken words.

I almost pity the people.

At the gates, Tengen pulled hard on the reins, his horse skidding to a stop. He swung down, his boots slamming against the cracked earth. Ren dismounted behind him, his face still pale, while Sari clung to Tengen’s coat, her wide silver eyes full of fear and disbelief.

The guards rushed forward, smiling, bowing, calling his name with relief and reverence.

But Tengen didn’t even hear them.

His eyes swept across the ruins, his heart hammering. He saw burned homes, splintered walls, Dark Elves carrying wounded kin into makeshift tents. Children cried, women whispered prayers, warriors bore fresh scars.

All the warmth and excitement he carried here, all the confidence he had built in Ren and Sari, it shattered in an instant.

“What… the hell happened here?” he muttered, his fists trembling.

His smile was gone. His heart was pounding with fear.

Was I gone too long? Did they… suffer because of me?

He clenched his fists tighter, his thoughts spiraling as he stared at the broken village, the home he had called his own.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed across the ruined square.

Yoruha was the first to burst into view, her twin blades clattering awkwardly against her hips as she sprinted like a child chasing her best friend. Lireath was right behind her, her flowing robes catching on broken stones as she practically shoved aside guards and villagers in her path, her normally regal expression glowing with pure anticipation.

Dravel trailed behind, his head tilted slightly down, his hands folded behind his back, his every step calm, though a vein ticked visibly at his temple. His expression screamed secondhand embarrassment.

“Two of the most important figures in the village,” he muttered under his breath, “racing like children. Gods save us all.”

But when the three finally caught sight of Tengen

Their hearts froze.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t radiating his usual cocky, too-cool aura.

Instead, his face was twisted in pain. His eyes were wide, full of disbelief and despair. His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles bled.

The playful competition between Lireath and Yoruha vanished instantly. Their excited rush slowed into cautious steps, their gazes softening as they approached, like mothers calming a wounded child. Even Dravel, whose face rarely shifted, frowned faintly, his eyes flicking with concern.

Tengen’s voice cracked as he finally spoke.

“…What happened here?”

It wasn’t his usual booming tone, not the noble affectations he sometimes used, nor the cocky grin. Just a boy’s broken question, whispered in pain.

Lireath’s heart ached. She stepped forward, staff clutched tightly, her golden eyes sorrowful. “Tengen-sama… yesterday, the Ogres came. Gorrak, their chief. He came with his elites and struck against us.”

Yoruha’s voice wavered, unusually soft. “They broke the gates. Burned homes. Hurt our people. We fought with everything we had… but…”

Dravel finished quietly, his calm voice cutting through. “We held them back, but the village was… destroyed in the process.”

The words hit Tengen like arrows.

A day ago…

His mind spun. He saw flashes in his head, Ren and Sari laughing, enjoying food, enjoying the city. Him wasting time in the capital, indulging in every trope he had dreamed of, while here, his friends, his people, were bleeding and fighting to survive.

If I had come back sooner…

If I hadn’t wasted time…

They suffered while I… played around.

His chest tightened. His knees nearly buckled.

Behind him, Ren and Sari were frozen in silence. Ren’s fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t know what to say. Sari, trembling, finally reached out, her small voice soft and desperate.

“T-Tengen-nii… it’s okay. You’re here now. It’s… it’s okay…”

But her words didn’t reach him. His eyes were distant, spiraling deeper into the storm of guilt.

Lireath’s heart clenched at the sight. She stepped forward, her voice warm, trembling with care. “Tengen-sama… this is not your fault. You are not to blame. None of this is.”

Yoruha, her usual bratty confidence gone, tried her best as well, her voice breaking. “Yeah, idiot… you’re always bragging about being invincible. So don’t… don’t look like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

Even Dravel, stoic as ever, spoke firmly, his eyes steady. “Do not shoulder burdens that were never yours to carry alone. The village endured. We still stand. That is enough.”

But Tengen didn’t lift his gaze.

He raised a hand, silencing them. His voice was low, raw, almost unrecognizable.

“…I need some time alone.”

The three froze.

He turned then, forcing himself to stand tall despite the despair etched across his face. His hand extended to Ren and Sari, gently pulling them closer. His voice softened, almost tender.

“These two… are my siblings now. Ren. Sari. Treat them as such, while I…”

His words trailed. He didn’t finish.

He just walked past them, his coat brushing against Lireath’s robe as he strode into the ruined village, his steps heavy with guilt.

Lireath, Yoruha, and Dravel stood frozen, watching his back disappear among the wreckage. None of them spoke. None of them moved.

Because for the first time since he had come into their lives

Tengen didn’t look unshakable.

He looked… human.

And none of them knew what to say.

Lireath’s hut smelled faintly of old parchment and dried herbs. The air inside was heavy, carrying the tension that no words had been able to clear since Tengen walked away.

The Elder sat at the low table, staff across her lap, her golden eyes dim with fatigue but sharp as ever. She had already sent out word, and one by one, the others filed into the room.

Yoruha came first, still restless, her blades rattling against her hips as she slumped dramatically against the wall, arms folded and brows furrowed. “Tch. Calling us all here like this, Grandma… fine, but it better not be another lecture.”

Dravel entered next, quiet as always. He gave Lireath a brief nod before settling opposite Yoruha. His gaze was unreadable, but the faint crease at his brow betrayed the storm he kept hidden.

Then came Ren and Sari, both visibly nervous as they stepped into the Elder’s home. The warm flicker of candlelight fell across their faces, Ren trying to stand tall, while Sari clung to his sleeve for reassurance.

Lireath’s gaze softened as she turned to them first. “You must be Ren and Sari, yes? I am Lireath, Elder of this village. The one who has… been blessed to serve under Tengen-sama.”

She inclined her head, her voice unusually gentle.

Ren bowed clumsily, nearly tripping over his words. “Y-yes! I’m Ren! It’s an honor to meet you, Elder!”

Sari followed with a small bow of her own. “I’m Sari… thank you for allowing us here.”

Yoruha leaned forward, giving them a lazy wave. “Yoruha. Tengen’s number one, don’t forget it.”

Ren blinked. “…Number one?”

Lireath sighed. “Ignore her.”

Dravel gave a short nod. “Dravel. Head of the village guard.” His voice was flat, but his eyes studied the two siblings carefully.

Lireath straightened then, her expression returning to her usual regal calm. “Understand this. Humans are… not usually permitted in our village. But since Tengen-sama himself brought you here, and even introduced you as his siblings, then by that bond you are now under our protection as well. No one will question it. And so, you will join this discussion.”

Ren stiffened. Sari’s hands tightened in her lap.

Lireath’s tone hardened, though not unkind. “You’ve all seen him. His face, his despair. He blames himself for what happened here. If we do nothing, he will drown in that guilt. We must… find a way to reach him.”

The room went silent.

“Suggestions?” Lireath asked, her eyes sweeping across them.

Yoruha shot up instantly, slamming her hands on the table. “I’ve got it! We challenge him to a duel. Once he wins, he’ll feel better instantly!”

Ren and Sari both turned their heads toward her in disbelief, eyes wide.

“…You’re joking, right?” Ren muttered.

“Y-you want to fight him when he’s like that?” Sari added, aghast.

Yoruha blinked, tilting her head innocently. “…What? It always works for me.”

Lireath didn’t even flinch. Dravel didn’t even blink.

“…Expected,” Lireath murmured flatly.

“…Predictable,” Dravel added, his voice as dry as sand.

Yoruha puffed her cheeks. “H-hey! At least I contributed!”

Lireath turned her gaze to Dravel. “And you?”

Dravel shook his head slowly. “…Nothing. I have no words that would reach him now.”

The silence returned, heavy once more. Until.

“I… I have something.”

All eyes turned.

Sari’s small hand was raised timidly, her voice trembling as she spoke under the weight of so many stares.

“I… I can try making him something. A Japanese dish.”

Everyone blinked.

Lireath leaned forward, her golden eyes widening. “…Japanese?”

Sari nodded quickly, her voice gaining strength as she explained. “When we were at the inn in the capital, Tengen-nii… he told us about food from his world. About how much he missed it. He even explained some simple dishes, saying he’d try to make them himself once he came back here. If I… if I make something from that world, maybe…”

Her voice faltered, but her determination shone through her nervousness. “Maybe it’ll reach him.”

The hut was quiet again, but this time it was a different silence, one of astonishment.

Lireath’s lips parted, her chest softening with awe. “…So that is the world he came from. Remarkable.” She straightened suddenly, her tone becoming firm, decisive. “Sari. Whatever you need, ingredients, tools, spices, rare herbs, I will see it done. Even if I must walk through fire myself, you will have it.”

Sari blinked, startled. “…Really?”

Lireath smiled faintly. “Truly.”

Sari hesitated, then lowered her head with a small, sincere smile. “Then… I’ll do my best.”

Yoruha leaned across the table instantly, her face close to Sari’s, grinning like a mischievous cat. “Oi, make an extra serving for me too. Do that, and we’ll be best friends.”

Sari’s eyes widened, but then she giggled softly. “…Okay. Best friends.”

Ren let out a long sigh, shoulders slumping. “Great… now she’s corrupted another one…”

Dravel closed his eyes, muttering, “…This village is doomed.”

But Lireath said nothing more. She simply looked at the young girl sitting at the table, her heart warming at the thought.

Perhaps… perhaps this child could succeed where even they could not.

When I pushed open the door to Lireath’s hut, every head in the room turned toward me at once.

Their eyes pierced into me, Lireath’s golden gaze, Yoruha’s bright green glare, Dravel’s steady calm, and even Ren and Sari’s nervous little stares.

For a moment, I wanted to turn and walk out again. But instead, I forced my lips into something resembling a smile, dragged my shoulders upright, and stepped in like nothing was wrong.

“I’m fine now,” I said, waving it off before anyone could ask. My voice didn’t shake. It didn’t betray me. “Really.”

Lireath leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed. “…Tengen-sama, are you”

“I said I’m fine,” I cut her off with a grin that hurt to wear. Then I looked past her, to the two kids seated at the table. “More importantly, are you all getting along with these two?”

Before Ren or Sari could answer, Yoruha shot up from her seat and practically threw her arms around them both. “Of course! We’re all best friends now!” she declared, squeezing them tight until their eyes bugged out.

Dravel gave a small nod, utterly unbothered by the scene. “It is… fine.”

Ren managed a weak smile under Yoruha’s stranglehold, and Sari giggled softly, nodding.

Seeing their faces lightened something inside me, just a little. Enough for a genuine smile to slip through, though it wasn’t strong enough to close the cracks in my chest.

I turned back to Lireath, scratching the back of my neck. “…Sorry about bringing humans here without your say-so. That was… careless of me.”

Her eyes widened. Then she almost jumped to her feet, shaking her head. “No-no, Tengen-sama! Please. You are the village chief. It is you who decides what happens here, not I.”

The way she said it, like she’d committed a sin just for me apologizing, twisted my stomach.

So I did the only thing that felt right. I bowed. Deep.

“I’m sorry.”

For not being here. For failing to protect them. For everything.

The air in the hut froze solid.

“What are you!?” Lireath’s voice cracked.

“Stop, stop that!” Yoruha yelped, panic in her tone as she waved her arms wildly.

Dravel, usually composed, actually shifted in alarm, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard. “Raise your head, Lord Tengen. At once.”

I could feel Lireath trembling, sweat pricking her forehead, as though my bow had shattered the world. She was Elder, wise beyond decades, and yet seeing me lower myself before her left her pale, shaken, almost horrified.

I stayed down a moment longer, then finally straightened, plastering on another easy smile. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll stop. Don’t worry.”

Outwardly, I looked fine. Calm. Accepting their frantic protests.

But inside?

Inside I was screaming.

I’d rather you scold me. Tell me I failed. Tell me to do better. Anything but this. Anything but reverence I don’t deserve.

I swallowed the thought and kept smiling, because that’s what they needed. That’s what they expected of their “Lord.”

And maybe, if I pretended hard enough, I’d start believing it myself.

I cleared my throat and forced the subject to shift, before anyone could push further into my cracks.

“How bad is the village?” I asked. My tone was calm, almost businesslike.

Lireath folded her hands in her lap, her voice steady. “There were injuries… but no deaths. All are being treated now. The women and children are safe.”

Relief washed through me, loosening something in my chest. No deaths. Thank god.

Then Yoruha suddenly hopped up, her eyes practically sparkling. “Oh! Oh! Tengen-sama, you should’ve seen it! I fought this insanely strong guy!”

I tilted my head, playing along, plastering a grin across my face. “…Oh yeah? How strong are we talking?”

Her grin widened. “Strong. Like really strong.”

My teeth clenched behind my smile. “Damn it… I wish it was me who fought him.” I cursed, letting my envy show.

Yoruha barked out a laugh, Lireath exhaled softly, and even Dravel allowed himself the tiniest shake of his head. The tension in the room eased, shoulders lowering, everyone quietly reassured.

That was what they needed: their Lord Tengen back. Loud. Cocky. Envious of a good fight.

Everyone except… two.

Yoruha tilted her head, her eyes narrowing faintly, a flash of seriousness hidden behind her grin. She knew. She always knew when I was faking it.

And Sari, sweet little Sari kept her gaze on me too, soft and searching, her lips pressing into a line. She didn’t say anything, but I could feel it. She saw through me just as easily.

I ignored them both.

“Anyway,” I said, waving my hand. “We need a plan for rebuilding. Half the trees are wrecked, so we either move out or build on the ground.”

Lireath straightened, her tone formal again. “We will follow whatever plan you decide, Tengen-sama.”

Dravel added, his deep voice carrying the weight of history, “The Dark Elves have lived among the trees for thousands of years. Building on the ground would… be a task.”

“Yeah, figures,” I muttered, scratching my head. “Still… I’d rather not move. Too many resources nearby. And my favorite napping spot isn’t going anywhere.”

That drew a small chuckle out of Lireath despite herself.

Then, unexpectedly

“I can help.”

The voice was small, but firm.

Everyone turned to stare at Ren.

I blinked. “…Help how?”

Ren swallowed, but his voice grew stronger as he spoke. “I’ve… worked a lot of jobs before. One of them was construction. The head contractor back then liked me enough to teach me everything he knew. I’m not a master, but… I can plan and build houses.”

The silence stretched for a moment, then I broke into a wide grin.

“That’s my little brother!” I reached over and ruffled his hair until he squawked and tried to push me off. “Alright then it’s settled. Ren will head the reconstruction. I’ll be his right hand. And every man in the village who can still stand will follow his lead.”

There was a murmur of approval, then hands clapping against the low table. Lireath nodded solemnly. Dravel inclined his head. Even Yoruha whooped, slamming her fist into her palm in excitement.

Ren looked stunned at the support, his cheeks flushing.

“Good,” I said, stretching with forced cockiness. “Now that that’s handled, I’m gonna go get some shut eye. Try not to bother me too much, yeah?”

They all bid me goodnight as I stepped out, my back straight, my smirk plastered on.

And the whole time, I prayed none of them noticed how heavy my steps felt.

The iron bars were cold against her back, but the Princess didn’t care. She sat in the dim cell, her retainers close by, their expressions grim. Across the chamber, her father stood with his four so-called “elites,” his hulking frame wrapped in smug pride.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed.

“Failed, did you?” Her voice carried like a blade, sharp and mocking. “All your boasting, all your power… and yet the Dark Elves sent you back with nothing but your tail between your legs.”

Gorrak’s jaw tightened, displeasure flickering across his face.

“You’ve done worse than fail, Father,” the Princess continued, her eyes blazing with defiance. “You’ve exposed yourself. Now it’s not only the Dark Elves who know of your conquest plans. The four remaining Great Races will hear of it too. You’ve painted a target on your own back.”

For a moment the room was silent, then Gorrak’s booming laughter shook the chamber.

“You think I care?” he roared, his teeth bared in a wide grin. “I may not have persuaded the Dark Elves, but my plans do not hinge on them. The Orc chieftain and the Beastkin lord have already agreed to meet with me.”

The Princess’s blood ran cold. Her laughter died instantly, her face draining of color.

The Orcs… crude, brutish, but with armies vast enough to blacken the land. And the Beastkin, wild, feral, their strength legendary. If her father truly aligned with both, his conquest would no longer be a fool’s dream. It would be a nightmare realized.

She gripped the bars tightly, her knuckles white. “You’re mad… utterly mad…”

But Gorrak only leaned closer, his crimson eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “Mad? No. Visionary. You see only obstacles. I see a future where the Ogres stand above all.”

He snapped his fingers, and the guards unlocked the cell. The iron gate creaked open.

“Let them out,” Gorrak ordered.

The Princess stepped forward, her chains rattling as she was shoved into the open chamber. Gorrak loomed over her, his voice dripping with condescension.

“Your time to stop me is running out, daughter. Make whatever desperate plans you like. It won’t matter.”

Her fists trembled, her teeth clenched. Anger flared hot in her chest as she glared up at him.

Gorrak chuckled, turning his back on her as though she were nothing more than a stubborn child. His laughter echoed through the halls long after he left, burning like fire in her ears.