Wild Pixies
1122 Words
What kind of person was Ira, really?
Most of the Empire’s people, and even Ira himself, wouldn’t have a clear answer. However, those who had once been his comrades or the ruler he had sworn loyalty to might have understood him—at least a little.
Vera could barely grasp it, but one thing she was sure of was that Ira was never truly loyal to the Empire. You could say he hoped for a future where the Empire would become a powerful yet just nation. You could say he was loyal to his friendship with the late Emperor Yuse. Some might even claim that he remained loyal to Isabella because of his fondness for lolis. But you could never say that he was loyal to the Empire itself.
Vera had heard him say more than once:
"If one day, the Empire chooses a terrible path, I will personally see to its destruction."
Granted, he usually said this after arguments with the nobles, so there was a chance that it was just an emotional outburst. Still, the fact that he had such thoughts at all proved that he didn’t hold any particular reverence for the Empire—or even for humanity itself.
If that was the case, then maybe…
Maybe there was a chance…
Maybe it could really be done…
The final goal—if it could truly be achieved…
Then perhaps…
No, it would definitely be possible…
Absolutely.
—
"…The Philosopher’s Stone."
Muttering in a half-asleep state, Vera opened her eyes. She lay on her bed, emerging from a hazy realm of thought. The loose black mage’s robe draped over her barely covered much of her body, revealing a stark contrast between the dark fabric and her pale, flawless lich’s form.
If this scene were to be depicted as a piece of art, it would undoubtedly be titled “Black and White.”
"…What time is it?"
She absentmindedly tidied her robe before burrowing back under the blankets.
Winter was almost over, but today’s weather seemed unusually cold.
As a magic-user, she didn’t strengthen her body with mana like warriors did, making her more sensitive to heat, cold, and pain than physical fighters. But ultimately…
A lich had no need to cherish their body.
"Haaah~"
Yawning, Vera stretched a pale hand out from under the covers. A deep blue ring on her finger glowed faintly as she chanted lazily:
"Bound by knots, birthed from mist, manifest at my command."
Glowing blue mana flowed from the ring, drifting like fireflies, gradually forming humanoid shapes in the air.
The chant wasn’t finished yet.
Like a trigger, the incantation awakened the thousands of words imprinted in her mind, bridging the barrier between worlds, outlining the spell’s structure, and using her own mana as a catalyst to draw from the World Tree’s vast magical network.
"Illusion, decay, silence, shaping, ascension, eternity, mind, mind, mind, mind, mind—
You who have abandoned the Mother of Life, denied the Soul’s Branch—come forth, my creation!"
With the final word, the spell was cast—[Arcane Servants].
Three figures resembling Lem emerged in her room. Though composed of pure mana rather than Lem’s slime-like body, their faces remained indistinct.
They moved immediately, obeying her thoughts rather than any spoken command.
Without needing to ask, they lifted Vera, helped her dress, washed her face, and assisted her movements.
Vera herself had to do nothing—she simply let herself go limp in their care, like a noblewoman indulging in luxury…
Or perhaps more accurately, like a thief being escorted to judgment by villagers.
This was the life of a mage—
Or rather, the life of a court magician with unlimited access to mana.
"Vera, you still love wasting magic, don’t you?"
A voice came from behind.
Vera, still slouched in the grip of her Arcane Servants, looked less like a noble lady and more like a common thief being dragged to trial.
She lazily responded, "What do you mean 'wasting'? I’m just using it properly."
"Hmph…" Ira chuckled.
The tiny pixie perched on his shoulder watched their exchange curiously. These two seemed to have a very good relationship…
Of course, since the pixies weren’t present during the previous gathering, they didn’t know that Vera and Ira were old acquaintances.
"Aren’t you eating breakfast? I remember you once said that skipping breakfast would… cause… something something?"
Vera frowned, struggling to recall the exact words Ira had said before. She mumbled, "Something about your stomach grinding itself or whatever. But I’m a lich now, so I don’t have to worry about that."
To this, Ira asked flatly, "And what makes you think I haven’t eaten breakfast?"
Vera blinked. "Wait, you did?"
"Actually, no."
"…"
Vera was speechless. She turned her gaze toward the pixie on Ira’s shoulder, then seemed to realize something.
"Did the pixies report something urgent? Are you on your way to see the Demon Lord?"
"You guessed right."
Ira nodded and spoke on behalf of the small pixie, who had just opened her mouth to explain.
"This pixie encountered a group of wild pixies seeking refuge this morning. It seems a colony of wild pixies has been living in the forests near the Demon Lord’s domain."
"Since Satania hasn’t woken up yet, the pixie came to me first. Apparently, their original settlement was overrun and enslaved by a swarm of giant wasps, so they’re asking for the Demon Lord’s help. That’s definitely a good thing."
There was no need for Ira to elaborate—Vera immediately understood.
Though it might seem morally questionable, it was an undeniable fact that this was a fortunate turn of events.
Wild pixies, suffering under the rule of the giant wasps, had come seeking aid.
The Demon Lord’s forces would rescue them—
And in return, the Demon Lord would claim them as new citizens of the Demon Lord’s domain.
It was the classic case of “escaping one master, only to fall into another’s hands.”
However, everyone knew the truth—being a “servant” under the Demon Lord was far better than being a “citizen” in many other places.
For the record, according to official laws, aside from the high-ranking figures eligible to attend the Demon Lord’s court, every single resident of the Demon Lord’s domain technically belonged to the Demon Lord as personal property.
So, in a sense—
Everyone was already a slave.
"Hurry, hurry!"
"Rescue our kin!"
The tiny pixie, treating Ira as her personal mount, cheered from his shoulder.
She looked so genuinely happy—
She truly adored this strange, unique human.
After all—Ira was unlike any human she had ever met.
- Writer
