Chapter 401: Transformation

[Reach the elven realm...]

The moment the quest appeared, a map unfolded before Luke’s eyes. A route was traced across the surrounding land, leading toward the elven territory. The distance was approximately thirty kilometers.

The distance itself wasn’t an issue. There was no time limit attached to the quest, so Luke had no reason to rush. The real question was whether he should even leave at a time like this.

’Shouldn’t I be with the humans?’

Agatha had made it clear that the disaster was far from being subdued. If the Dragons truly arrived, humanity would need every capable fighter it could gather.

Luke might not be confident in his ability to deal with an entire horde of Dragons, but he was certain he would fare better than those savages who seemed more than willing to plunge headfirst into chaos.

’So, should I actually skip this quest?’

[Host... your arrival in elven territory aligns with your ultimate goal.]

Or rather, the system’s ultimate goal.

Luke wasn’t seriously considering abandoning the quest. If there was one entity that seemed genuinely desperate to prevent humanity from meeting its ultimate demise, it was the system itself.

If the system had assigned him this quest now, there had to be a reason behind it.

Perhaps this was one of those situations where the path he needed to take wasn’t the one that seemed most obvious.

Humming thoughtfully, Luke turned toward Jorma.

"What are the chances that the elves will hunt me down the moment they see me?"

Jorma’s brows furrowed at the strange question.

"Why are you asking about them? Shouldn’t you be going back and preparing?"

"I have some business with them. Maybe I can convince them to help us. If that works, it could make things easier."

Jorma stared at him for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"Listen, Dragons have concrete pride, but elves are different. They won’t care about giving you a chance to explain yourself. The moment they realize what your race is, they’ll butcher you."

His expression hardened as he continued.

"They openly discriminate against anyone who isn’t one of them. That’s why you won’t find a single elf among the border guards. They use demi-humans instead, and they treat those people as little more than slaves."

Luke nodded once, then again, before responding, "Still, I need to meet them. Just an hour ago, you considered reaching a deal with the Dragons almost impossible. Now, at the very least, we have hope."

He rested a hand on Jorma’s shoulder before continuing, "Think carefully, old man. There must be enough among them who understand what disaster would befall every living being if the Ritual were broken."

Jorma pressed his thick lips together, forced to consider the possibility.

Much like Agatha, he understood the importance of the Ritual and the immense protection it provided to every existence. It wasn’t merely some ancient arrangement that kept the realms separate. The very conditions that allowed each realm to sustain its inhabitants were tied to it.

Every world possessed its own atmosphere, its own environment, and the natural conditions required for its inhabitants to survive. Those differences weren’t simply the result of nature. They were consequences of the Ritual itself.

If it were broken, the effects wouldn’t be confined to a single realm. Everything could be thrown into chaos.

Taking a deep breath, Jorma finally said, "I do know a few people who think before they speak. Their interests extend beyond the supremacy of their own race."

Luke grinned.

"That’s more like it. I knew you’d understand."

Jorma could only groan at his enthusiasm. Somehow, he had the sinking feeling that this would end in an even bigger disaster than their previous visit to another domain.

Dragons at least give time for visitors to speak regardless of their race but Elves are just outright anti-human to the point of teaching their children whom to hunt the moment they see one.

But again, Luke has proven he could achieve what was considered impossible and since he has already taken a whole lot of risk already...

However, Jorma raised a hand before they could move.

"Before we go anywhere, we need to do something about your appearance. I can’t bring you directly to the people you can negotiate with. We’d have to pass through their village to reach them, so..."

Luke hummed thoughtfully, considering his options. Then, all at once, an idea struck him.

He opened the store.

At the very top of the list was a useful item.

’Race-Changing Pill... Oh, how convenient.’

A grin spread across his face as he purchased it at the discounted price.

According to the description, the pill required a strand of hair from the race he wished to become. Luke glanced at Jorma.

"Do you have a strand of an elf’s hair? I can disguise myself as one of them."

Jorma’s expression turned wry.

"Why do you think I would have something like that?"

Luke clicked his tongue.

"Then how about I become a demi-human instead? Would that be enough?"

Jorma hummed thoughtfully. "Though I’d need to bring you inside as a slave. Would that be acceptable?"

"As long as you don’t slap me," Luke said, his tone making it sound more like a warning than a request.

Jorma merely shrugged.

Before Jorma could reconsider, he stepped forward and plucked one of Jorma’s feathers.

Jorma groaned.

Luke ignored him and continued plucking until he had shortened the feather enough for it to fit inside the small capsule.

’Fuck... this suddenly feels kind of disgusting.’

He pushed the thought aside. There was no time to dwell on it.

Luke produced a vial of potion with one hand while holding a pouch of water in the other. Then, without giving himself another moment to hesitate, he swallowed the pill.

The moment Luke swallowed the pill, a strange warmth spread through his body.

It began in his stomach, then surged outward like a wave, passing through every limb before settling deep within his bones. His muscles tightened, his skin prickled, and for a brief moment, even his senses seemed to blur.

Luke’s expression hardened.

Then came the pain.

It wasn’t unbearable, but it was thorough. His bones shifted beneath his skin with a series of dull cracks, his shoulders narrowing as his frame subtly changed. His face reshaped itself, his jaw becoming slightly slimmer while his features settled into a sharper, more refined structure.

His hair began to grow.

The strands spilled past his ears, then his neck, cascading over his shoulders in a smooth sheet of silver. They shimmered faintly beneath the light, almost white at certain angles, giving him an otherworldly appearance.

Luke barely had time to process the change before something pushed through his hair.

Two pointed ears emerged from the top of his head, covered in soft silver fur. They twitched once, then again, reacting to every faint sound around him.

Jorma’s eyes widened.

Luke’s senses suddenly sharpened.

He could hear the movement of leaves several meters away. The faint rustle of clothing. Even Jorma’s breathing seemed strangely loud.

Then his spine tingled.

Something pushed its way out from behind him.

A large, luxurious tail emerged, followed by another.

And another.

Luke froze.

By the time the transformation settled, several enormous fox tails flowed behind him, each covered in thick silver fur. They moved almost instinctively, swaying gently behind his body as if they possessed a will of their own.

Luke lowered his gaze to his hands.

His fingers were slimmer now, his nails slightly sharper, while a faint layer of fine fur covered the backs of his hands and continued along his forearms.

His entire body had become leaner without losing its underlying strength. The transformation hadn’t weakened him. If anything, it had refined the imposing presence he already carried.

He reached up and touched one of his ears.

It twitched beneath his fingers.

"...What the hell?"

Jorma stared at him in silence.

Luke turned toward him.

"How do I look?"

Jorma’s mouth opened, but for several seconds, nothing came out.

The rough, imposing figure who had stood before him only moments ago was gone. In his place stood a majestic fox-man with long silvery hair, sharp features, piercing eyes, and a collection of magnificent tails that gave him an almost regal presence.

He looked less like a common demi-human and more like some ancient noble creature that had wandered out of legend.

Jorma finally muttered, "You certainly don’t look like someone who should be working as a slave."

Luke raised an eyebrow.

"That’s a problem?"

"A considerable one."

Luke looked himself over again before running his fingers through his silver hair.

"Well, I can’t exactly change it now."

One of his ears twitched.

His tails followed a moment later.

Luke frowned at them.

"Why are they doing that?"

Jorma sighed.

"I think you’ll have to figure that out yourself."

Regardless of that, they started their journey towards their next destination

Another negotiation on the way.

~~~

A/N:- Thanks for reading.