How To Live As A Writer In A Fantasy World
chapter-238

The elves, unlike demons, have a long history of interacting with other races, which has resulted in numerous positive and negative descriptors attached to them.

They are described as a race chosen by the gods, the first civilization, the origin of everything—positive descriptors that abound. However, there are also negative ones that counterbalance these positives.

They’re labeled as arrogant, rude, snobbish, excessively prideful, hot-tempered, and discriminatory, with most descriptors culminating in “elves are arrogant.” Just as the positive descriptors reflect their exceptional abilities, the negative ones are rooted in their undeniable capabilities, leaving others feeling overshadowed.

Even if elves were to criticize a specific aspect, others couldn’t say a word in return. Their perceived arrogance stems from their unwavering belief in their own abilities, allowing them to dismiss criticisms easily.

Moreover, even if elves were to learn something from other races, they would only acknowledge it as such. In their fields of expertise, they wouldn’t yield an inch to anyone, regardless of what they might learn from others.

Especially, the most potent aspect was magic. Magic has been the power and ability developed since the establishment of civilization, and indeed, the elves possess the most outstanding abilities.

The demons wield formidable firepower through dark mana, yet it’s practically impossible for them, like the elves, to drop meteorites from the sky. While the demons can make barren lands fertile, they can’t match the efficiency of the elves in doing so.

Instead, due to the persecution they faced over the years, the magic that aids daily life is far more abundant among demons than elves. Furthermore, magical items like refrigerators rival even the craftsmanship of dwarves.

However, do the elves consider that impressive? That’s the question. They believe that with time, they can create not just the same but even better items. Of course, this is a thought possible because they haven’t witnessed it firsthand. In reality, creating magical items requires immense expertise.

Refrigerators, magic pens, temperature control in dormitories, and so on. Although these are magical, engineering plays a significant role. The confidence that elves hold in their magic and research is quite similar to ‘science’, but engineering is a distinct field that emphasizes craftsmanship the most.

However, the elves seem to forget this fact, and Arwen is no exception. Despite her mixed heritage and integration into human society before entering Alvenheim, it seems inherent traits couldn’t be altered. Moreover, Arwen herself took pride in magic, making her reluctant to yield.

Nevertheless, it’s not that she was entirely wrong. If it were just the two of us, it might not matter, but the issue is that she uttered those words in front of Princess Cecily of Helium.

The magic of demons appears crude to the elves, citing evidence that elves are superior to demons and so on, even as Arwen, who is most wary of the elven trait of ‘arrogance,’ ironically exhibits a demeanor that befits it the most.

“A dwarf with a small chest…”

It’s understandable why Cecily launched a personal attack. However, this constitutes a significant mistake on her part. While it would be one thing to disparage races like Arwen, this was a direct insult to an individual. It’s akin to a signal flare veering into an odd direction in the midst of a fight.

“W-what did you just… What did you say?”

She might have whispered it, but there’s absolutely no way Arwen, facing me, didn’t hear it. It’s no different from saying it aloud right in front of her.

Upon this, Arwen reacted with considerable confusion, briefly covering her chest with both arms. Perplexity filled her grayish eyes.

Although she has said it that way, she’s by no means on the petite side and, if anything, she’s above average. Cecily is just overwhelmingly large.

As for height… let’s overlook that. That’s not a matter of relativity but rather absoluteness.

Meanwhile, Cecily, observing Arwen covering her chest with her arms, snorted, crossed her arms, and wore a smug expression.

Already boasting a formidable presence with her school uniform buttons almost bursting due to her massive chest, adding crossed arms only accentuated her imposing aura.

“Did I say something wrong? Even the Queen looked down on demons in my presence. Right?”

“W-well, that’s true, but this was a personal attack!”

“Don’t you consider criticizing demons to be a personal attack on me? It’s a fact that demon magic is somewhat more chaotic than that of elves. However, to speak so bluntly without explaining it a bit… it feels a bit too much.”

Unlike when Cecily made a personal attack, she spoke calmly, but her words were cutting. Insulting demons would be considered a personal attack on her. So, if Arwen insults them further, she won’t stand idly by. Moreover, she’s the princess of Helium and the next in line to be the future demon lord. She has ample reason and justification to speak that way.

When I sensed signs that their argument might escalate, I immediately intervened.

“Arwen, Cecily’s right. You might have said what you thought, but from the listener’s perspective, it could hurt. It might be true that elves are the most proficient in magic. But be cautious about making direct comparisons.”

“…Alright. Seems like I misspoke.”

Even though she’s of mixed blood, an elf is an elf. In the fields they’re confident in, they don’t bend their pride.

As Arwen bowed her head and apologized, I turned to Cecily. She seemed somewhat uplifted that I took her side but had her arms crossed, drawing attention to her chest.

An impulse surged in me, like wanting to snatch away ripe fruit, but I barely restrained myself. Firstly, I needed to address her mistake.

“Same goes for you. Arwen was wrong, but there was no need for a personal attack. You could’ve phrased it differently.”

“But isn’t that the truth? I just returned it as it was given.”

Cecily remained unyielding, showing no concession to my words. It seemed that Cecily had taken offense at Arwen underestimating the demons. Clearly, Arwen had openly engaged in racial discrimination, and she probably wouldn’t even consider apologizing. She had stayed quiet, but Arwen had pushed her into this.

However, it wasn’t a personal attack. To retort, she should have targeted the elves, not Arwen individually. Arwen seemed to share a similar sentiment, as she spoke with a slightly choked voice.

“Is that so? Alright then. I’ll stop attacking the demons as well.”

Following her words, she, just like Cecily had done, launched a personal attack.

“Fatty.”

“Wh-what?”

“Arwen?”

Cecily, and even I, stared at Arwen in surprise. “Fatty” was undoubtedly a word that scorned Cecily’s chest. It was a part that stood out much more than others, making it a vulnerable point for an attack. However, it also raised a question.

Isn’t having a large chest considered good? Cecily had touched on Arwen’s weakness, but Arwen, instead of getting offended, seemed to take it as a compliment. Cecily, initially taken aback, later caught on, looking embarrassed for a moment before snorting in laughter.

Instead, she confidently responded, emphasizing her already prominent chest even more by clenching her fists.

“Thank you. Some people don’t even have these lumps of fat. It may be a bit uncomfortable, but Isaac likes it.”

“Why me?”

“Why. It’s true.”

It is true that it’s true, but I don’t understand why she insists on involving me in this fight.

“Hmm. Isaac, you can understand too. Men have traditionally preferred women with large breasts. I’ve read about it in books. Biologically, they are attracted to it because it reminds them of their mother’s embrace.”

Why are you like that again? Even Arwen was nodding seriously, accepting it.

While Cecily was smirking even more, Arwen slowly got up from her seat. I just watch her actions with a puzzled look.

Then, Arwen places her hand on her slender waist and sweeps it down, showcasing her superior hips.

With a dress already exposing her bare side, her actions make it even more detrimental to the heart.

“Well, how about this? Isn’t it better to have these curves than just having a lot of fat?”

“Uh…”

“I don’t know about the chest, but I’m confident below. I’ve been praised for my beauty since ancient times.”

Considering Arwen’s standards, it’s been quite a while since ancient times, and if she’s been praised since then, her pelvic line is undoubtedly as overwhelming as Cecily’s chest.

Cecily, being a demon, boasted exceptional hips and a well-defined lower body, yet she doesn’t quite compare to Arwen. Moreover, due to Arwen’s petite stature, this difference was further emphasized.

While sitting, I found myself gazing at Arwen’s lower body as if entranced, slowly shifting my gaze upwards. However, this action seemingly embarrassed Arwen, whose flushed face caught my eye.

Trying not to be obvious about my scrutiny, her efforts to hold back made her even more endearing. Yet, when I looked away, the charm faded entirely.

One side had the chest, the other, the hips. Truly, it was an unequaled battle between two grand places.

‘…Why am I comparing them again?’

I didn’t know why I was comparing. Whether it was a matter of feminine pride, neither woman yielded an inch.

Rather than merely watching from afar, it felt like I was adding fuel to the fire.

“Th-that much I have too! Look!”

In the midst of this, perhaps sensing some urgency, Cecily abruptly stood up, placing her hand on her waist. Following suit, just like Arwen did, she swept her hand downward. While undoubtedly above average, compared to Arwen, she fell slightly short.

Arwen’s hips were indeed remarkable, but her slim waist made comparisons impossible. Despite her short stature, her proportions, typical of elves, made her anything but small.

Confirming this, Arwen wore a triumphant expression and, with a bold voice, spoke up.

“Comparing just that much is rather petty, isn’t it? So, Isaac, which do you think is better?”

“What? Out of the blue?”

“Yeah. Isaac, you’ve got a good feel, right? You touch my chest every night.”

“Wait, why are you suddenly saying this to me? This feels like a situation where a shrimp’s back breaks during a whale fight.”

Honestly, her chest was indeed good, but when I see Arwen, my eyes shift to her hips again.There was a saying even in my past life, that when a man sees a woman, he first looks at her hips. It’s some sort of deep-seated genetic instinct.

As I was entertaining these useless thoughts, Arwen seemed to sense something strange and blinked as she asked Cecily.

“Every night? Touching every night, what kind of talk is that?”

“Huh?”

“Oh.”

Come to think of it, Arwen had no idea that Cecily and I were having these nightly encounters. I inadvertently revealed an embarrassing truth, but Cecily wasn’t fazed at all. In fact, she seemed to take it as an opportunity, wearing a sly smile, a particular blend of mischief and amusement in her expression.

“Oh my. Come to think of it, Your Majesty didn’t know. Do you know that Isaac and I are in a relationship?”

“W-well, I knew about that, but… But, about the nights… No, before that, aren’t you the Princess of Helium? Even if Marie is human, you are…”

Arwen alternated her confused, silvery-gray eyes between me and Cecily. In response, I scratched my head, suppressing a wry smile.

It seemed the grand confrontation’s end would yield results in a different direction.

“Your Majesty knows, don’t you? In relationships, it’s natural for things to blaze hot like a volcano. Isaac and I are no different, right? At least once every three days.”

“··· ···”

“Me being a princess of Helium? That’s no issue at all. Why? Isaac is the author of Xenon’s Biography. I offered my body to the savior of the demons. What’s the problem?”

In essence, the game was over. The clash between the elves and demons abruptly turned into a battle of hips and chests, resulting in Arwen’s defeat.

What Cecily wanted to convey was that no matter how much noise she makes, it’s meaningless unless a relationship is established. It’s meaningless to compare if bodies weren’t mingled.

“So, Your Majesty. No matter how superior your hips are, they mean nothing to Isaac. Do you understand?”

“··· ···”

With each successive attack, did Arwen really dislike losing that much?

She hesitated slightly, gave me a fleeting glance, then tightly shut her eyes. Her fair skin flushed a deep red, reminiscent of a tomato.

Subsequently, Arwen mumbled for a moment, then shouted forcefully.

“This is unfair!”

“What?”

“Arwen?”

Then came Arwen’s next statement…

“Then allow me to engage in an intimate act with Isaac!”

Something was seriously amiss.

“That way, we can fairly compare!”

It was Elvish communism.

Translators note: