The Paranoid Elf Queen Turned Me Into Her Sister

3 – The Land of Fantasy and the Golden elf Empress

The Moon Elf King… call you ancestor??

Dylin truly couldn’t picture those self-important dragon-descendant types kneeling down and calling someone “ancestor.”

At the same time, he found it strange that the Moon Elf girl before him showed no trace of contempt or disdain in her gaze.

It wasn’t like he’d never seen a pure-blood elf before. Coleman Academy was founded by the elves themselves. Though elves were prideful and disdained sharing a campus with other races, there were still quite a few of them on school grounds.

Not to mention the high-ranking Moon Elves—even Wood Elves looked down on humans with that ever-familiar nose-in-the-air expression. They might speak to you politely and respectfully, but deep down, they held nothing but scorn.

This had left Dylin with a very poor impression of elves, and after recent events, his opinion had only worsened.

They always said elves were pleasing to the eye, but if it weren’t for the money, he really didn’t want anything to do with these dragonborn snobs.

The elf girl before him looked about the same age as Astrid, but Dylin knew—age couldn’t be judged by appearance in elf terms. A girl who looked like a blooming maiden might well be an old hag who’d lived for thousands of years.

Whatever. Whether she was bluffing or not had nothing to do with him. That was their elf business. Dylin only cared about his money.

“That elf Empress of yours—didn’t you say she wanted something with me? Then take me to her.”

“...”

Upon hearing that, the elf girl fell silent for a moment.

“Your Highness, allow this humble servant to remind you—even you should not speak of the elf Empress so irreverently. After all, she is your...”

“Enough, I get it. Just take me.” Dylin replied impatiently.

“...Please, take my hand.” The elf girl sighed.

Family matters… best not to speak too much.

Dylin hesitated for a second, then touched the hand she extended. Before he could even register the softness of her palm, the scene before him changed. He now stood inside a goldenwood palace built atop the ancient tree.

By the time he regained his bearings, the Moon Elf girl was already gone. Only Dylin remained, standing alone in a dimly lit hall.

Red carpet bordered with golden thread stretched forward. The ceiling, woven from ten-thousand-year goldenwood, loomed overhead. Only within this space could one truly comprehend the palace’s immense scale.

This palace, born atop an ancient tree, seemed to share in its vitality. Silver mist filtered through a dewdrop-woven dome, casting soft light into the hall. Looking up, it felt as though one were standing beneath water.

Why was he the only one here? …No, not alone.

Dylin noticed a silhouette seated on the throne ahead.

“Rumble rumble rumble!” The glass butterflies floating in the hall burst into radiant light, illuminating the space.

Dylin stared in awe at the graceful figure seated atop the throne.

Lustrous platinum-gold hair cascaded smoothly down her form, skin like warm sunlight upon snowy plains—pure and lustrous like jade. Her long golden lashes, like fans, cast faint shadows over her brilliant olive-green eyes, and her cherry lips curved ever so faintly.

The golden-haired elf seated on the throne looked completely removed from the world—like a celestial maiden untouched by mortal dust.

Dylin had once read a fairy tale in this world: ‘The fairy princess who dwelled deep within the forest—if a lost soul so much as glanced at her, they would forget everything they once cared about, having seen the world’s only peerless beauty.’

He had thought that description overly dramatic—until now. Today, Dylin believed it. Such beauty did exist in this world—beauty that could make one forget everything else with just a glance.

Staring at her form, brighter than golden sun or silver moon, Dylin was utterly dazed—he even forgot why he had come.

“To beg safety from a weapon that cannot protect—such is the instinct of humankind?”

The golden-haired elf on the throne spoke. Her voice, like an orchid in a secluded valley, echoed softly in Dylin’s ears and seeped into his soul.

Snapping back to his senses, Dylin realized that at some point, he had drawn the flintlock from his back and now gripped it tightly. His palms were slick with sweat…

It was like an animal encountering a natural predator—fear written into DNA.

Faced with a being utterly beyond him, his body responded automatically.

Dylin could clearly feel that his legs were weak… too weak to even stand.

What was he facing here??

“Me? As you see—I am an elf.” The golden-haired girl stood from the throne. Her olive eyes shone like a vibrant forest brimming with life.

She… could hear my thoughts??

“For me, that’s hardly difficult.”

She wore a flowing white feathered robe. Atop her head sat a crown made of gold antlers and flower garlands. Through the translucent hem of her skirt, one could faintly glimpse her long, bare legs.

Her snow-white feet were bare, resting on leaves that gently cradled her pink soles.

...Is she a Moon Elf? A Wood Elf? A Snow Elf?

“None of the above. I am a direct descendant of the elf Progenitor God.”

elf… Progenitor God?

Right—she had golden hair... Could she be—a Gold Elf??

Dylin remembered reading about elf subraces in an illustrated elf guidebook.

Gold Elves and Moon Elves were the direct bloodline of the Progenitor God, connected by blood. Other elves were creations of that god.

Thus, Gold Elves and Moon Elves were jointly called “High Elves.” Among them, Gold Elves had the closest blood ties to the Progenitor and the longest lifespans—but were also the rarest.

Moon Elves, being royalty in the Forest of Elves, were rarely seen by commoners—but still possible to encounter.

Gold Elves, however, hadn’t appeared in the mortal world for centuries.

“Correct. You got it.”

Before he even finished thinking, the golden-haired elf was already standing in front of him, staff in hand. That breathtaking face was now inches from his own. And those… surging “headlights”… were also inches away.

Under the gaze of those clear, olive-green eyes, Dylin felt like no thought or secret of his could remain hidden.

He was shocked—but his doubts only deepened.

Why would a being like this seek him out?

He was just an ordinary human. Common as dirt…

“But your soul—is not ordinary.”

My… soul?

Wait a second…

Dylin remembered.

When he entered Coleman Academy, he had undergone a soul scan—placing his palm on a crystal orb.

He hadn’t expected to pass the entrance test. But after that soul scan, the instructor told him he was accepted.

So that was it…

This pointy-ear must have set her sights on his soul back then! That’s why they admitted him as an exception!

“Looks like I don’t need to say much after all.”

The golden elf curled her lips into a slight, enchanting smile. “You figured it all out on your own.”

What do you want with my soul??

Unable to speak, he simply thought it—might as well communicate this way. His thoughts were already exposed anyway.

“Human, your soul is very special. To explain it fully would take more time than you could understand. Simply put—your soul is extremely similar to that of one very important deceased relative of mine.”

The elf Empress gently caressed Dylin’s immobilized cheek, lost in thought.

So? …

“All things require a price—how much more so when defying death?”

…You… want to use my soul… to revive your relative??

“No. Human—souls are not so easily explained. The truth is...

There’s a very high possibility that you are her.”

???

“If that’s the case, then it’s not sacrifice—but reincarnation.”

…That hypothesis? I can guarantee you—it’s wrong.

Dylin knew with absolute certainty: he could not be that relative reincarnated.

He was a transmigrator from Blue Star. There was no “past life” involved at all.