I am Elmenus. My family name has been discarded—no, I was forced to discard it. I am an elf, and my age is... a secret.

Currently, I serve as the Guildmaster of the Adventurers' Guild in the royal capital branch of the Kingdom of Ordrette. I’ve held this position for 15 years, and up until now, everything had been smooth sailing. Yes, until now…

Before me sits a boy with dazzling golden eyes. His deep blue hair reminds me of the ocean I once saw long ago. This boy only recently registered as an adventurer, and he’s just 15 years old—born the same year I became Guildmaster of this branch.

At this moment, I am incredibly nervous. But not because of the boy. No, my anxiety stems from the dark elf maid standing slightly behind him.

We elves are known as the guardians of the forest, while dark elves, often referred to as an elven subspecies, were once scorned by us. With our snow-white skin, we looked down on their dusky complexion, banishing them from the forests. Forced from their ancestral home, the dark elves sought refuge in deserts and rocky mountains.

Then, around 200 years ago, the dark elves returned to the forest.

Of course, we elves did not welcome them. Conflict became inevitable. Initially, we had the upper hand, being far more accustomed to the forest’s terrain. But the tide of battle turned abruptly with the rise of a new dark elf chieftain.

This chieftain had striking black hair—an anomaly among both elves and dark elves. Even more unnerving were their jet-black eyes.

This enigmatic leader, commanding the shadows themselves, drove us to defeat. Ultimately, the elves surrendered. The elven chieftain prostrated himself, begging for mercy, but the dark elf leader merely stepped on his head and laughed.

That haunting laugh petrified me. All I could do was tremble and shrink into myself.

The terms of surrender were clear: the elven chieftain’s entire lineage would be executed. However, one minor—me—was spared because I had not yet reached 30, the age of adulthood for elves.

Thus, I became the sole survivor of the chieftain's family.

I left the forest, becoming an adventurer to survive. Not out of vengeance, but simply because I needed strength to continue living.

The world remembers this as the Elf Wars. Although it happened 200 years ago, few humans today—aside from historians and nobles—are aware of it. The victors were, of course, the dark elves, led by that black-haired, black-eyed chieftain who is now standing before me, gazing tenderly at the boy with golden eyes.

As memories resurface, a name echoes in my mind.

Palmyris Monotri.

To us elves, she is etched in our very souls as Palmyris the Calamity.

Why is such a harbinger of destruction here? After the war, she supposedly relinquished her title and left the forest within a decade. Why has she appeared before me now!?

“I apologize for the wait. I am the Guildmaster of this branch,” I said, fighting to suppress the fear surging through my soul.

“I’m Sai, and this is Pal,” the boy introduced himself casually.

Pal... Is that what she calls herself now? Why is Palmyris the Calamity with this boy, Sai?

I’ve investigated Sai. Until recently, he was known as Saijar, the former heir of the Ardeck duchy. However, the Calamity would never serve any noble—she must have sworn allegiance to Sai himself.

If I were to detain this boy, not only would I perish, but this entire guild branch would be obliterated.

Perhaps I should let them leave and forget this ever happened. Yes, that would avoid provoking her wrath. If they demand an apology, I’ll bow as deeply as they wish. I’ll even grovel if necessary.

“Are you seriously pretending you don’t know!?”

The sharp voice of my assistant, Rozie, snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts.

This fool! Does she not realize whom she’s addressing? I must stop her immediately.

“Are you serious!?” Rozie repeated, her voice rising further.

“Oh, I’m very serious. How would I know unless you explain it clearly? Pal, do you understand?”

“No idea. It seems this person may have some mental shortcomings” Palmyris replied, her tone dismissive.

“What did you say!?”

Rozie’s defiant shout echoed through the room.

You imbecile! Who do you think you’re antagonizing!?

“Calm yourself, Rozie!” I barked, my tone brooking no argument.

“B-but! …I apologize!” she stammered, lowering her head reluctantly.

If I don’t regain control of this situation, disaster is inevitable.

“Sai, as a member of the Adventurer’s Guild, you are required to bring any monster materials to the guild first. Were you aware of this?” I said, striving to maintain both a respectful tone and a semblance of authority.

“Anything wrong, Master?” Sai asked, glancing nervously at Palmyris.

“N-No… nothing…” I managed, my voice trembling under the invisible pressure emanating from her.

“Pal, could you ease up on the pressure?” Sai requested.

“Oh, pressure? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Master.” Palmyris said, giggling softly as the oppressive weight lifted.

Everyone on the guild’s side, myself included, gasped for air.

“What… what is wrong with you!?” Rozie suddenly yelled.

My heart sank. This fool hasn’t learned her lesson!

What will come of this volatile meeting? My trembling heart can only hope for survival.