The guards who normally reacted to any approaching figure hadn't moved at all, which meant this must be someone familiar. But trying to recall who he was, no clear picture came to mind from his inherited memories.
Almost guessing his confusion, the old man spoke with a gravelly voice that carried both amusement and reproach.
"You don't need to bother remembering this old man, brat. You might have known me if you'd ever bothered looking toward this room even once in your entire life."
"Mr. Ulfric, please," Roy interrupted quickly, his tone carrying both respect and a hint of desperation.
Ulfric's sharp eyes shifted from Elric to Roy, narrowing with displeasure. "You brat, are you starting to talk back to me now? How old are you—twenty-three, twenty-four? You were still playing in the mud when I last saw you!"
And then he began.
"Blah blah blah... thinking you can interrupt your elders... no respect for tradition... probably can't even hold a proper sword stance anymore... spending all your time with those other knights instead of studying..."
The scolding went on and on, Roy's face growing progressively redder as the old man tore into him with the casual brutality of someone who'd known him since childhood.
While the tirade continued, Elric observed the old man carefully. He had long white hair that fell past his shoulders and a full beard that reached his chest, both meticulously maintained despite their color. But even with all that white hair, his face was unusually smooth and youthful. There weren't many wrinkles, and his skin had a healthy glow that seemed wrong for someone who should be ancient. It was genuinely hard to determine his age just by looking.
His posture was straight, his movements fluid, and his eyes—those were perhaps the most striking feature. Sharp and alert, they missed nothing, carrying the weight of decades or perhaps centuries of accumulated knowledge.
By the time Ulfric finally seemed to finish his verbal assault on Roy, his penetrating gaze swung back to Elric.
"Anyway, come with me," he commanded, already turning to walk deeper into the library.
"Roy," Elric whispered as they followed, "who is he exactly?"
Roy, still recovering from his scolding, answered quietly. "This is Mr. Ulfric. He's responsible for taking care of the library and also for researching mana, though that's mainly his personal project rather than an official position. He does what he wants, basically."
Roy paused, then added almost as an afterthought, "And he's also your great-great-grandfather."
Hearing the first part was fine—a scholar and librarian made perfect sense. But great-great-grandfather?
"How old is he?" Elric asked, unable to hide his shock.
"At least two hundred years old. I don't know his exact age, but it should be close to that." Looking at Elric's astonished expression, Roy patiently explained, "You might not know this, but your great-great-great-grandmother was an elf. As a half-elf, his lifespan is much longer than normal humans. He could probably live another century or two easily."
Elf. Even though Elric had expected something like this—this was a fantasy world, after all—hearing it confirmed still sent a jolt of surprise through him.
But he quickly shook his head, forcing himself to refocus. He was getting distracted from his objective. He could explore the fascinating details of this world's various races after finding a cure for his mother's illness. Right now, every moment counted.
"Yo, brat! What are you standing there in a daze for?" Ulfric's rough voice called out from ahead.
Elric hurried to catch up, finding the old man standing beside a reading table where he'd already deposited several thick volumes.
"Here you go," Ulfric said, gesturing at the stack. "Basic history and geography of the kingdom, and some introductory texts about politics and governance. These should give you the foundation you need to understand your responsibilities as future ruler."
While Elric had been talking with Roy, the old man had apparently moved through the library with supernatural speed, selecting books from various shelves.
"No," Elric said firmly. "I wanted to read medical books."
Ulfric's eyes widened in surprise, and with that surprise came a flash of profound disappointment. His shoulders actually sagged slightly, and his expression turned cold.
He'd thought that after the life-and-death experience with the assassin, the boy had finally grown up. That he'd decided to take his responsibilities seriously as the future ruler of the kingdom. That the trauma had shocked him into becoming the leader they desperately needed.
"Brat, if you came here because you're afraid of death, then just go back," Ulfric said harshly. "There's nothing here that can satisfy cowardice. No book will make you immortal or teach you to hide better from your fate."
"I didn't ask for your opinion," Elric replied, trying to keep his voice as respectful as possible but unable to completely hide the impatient edge. "Please show me the medical section as I instructed."
Surprise.
Ulfric was genuinely surprised, perhaps more so than he'd been in decades.
He'd always heard that the current prince had a very weak personality—soft, passive, afraid of conflict. The boy supposedly cried when servants killed chickens for dinner and refused to attend any meetings that might involve disagreement. Even if Ulfric didn't actively hate him, he certainly didn't like what he represented. How could their bloodline, which had produced warriors and scholars of legendary status, produce such a cowardly descendant?
In all these years, Ulfric had never bothered to meet the boy. What was the point? He'd just be disappointed.
But this...
This sharp tone, this refusal to be cowed by an elder's disapproval, this determined focus despite being scolded—this was different.
It seems the assassin did a good job after all, Ulfric thought with dark humor. Nothing like nearly dying to force someone to grow a spine.
"Boy," he said slowly, a small smile tugging at his beard. "It seems there's still some hope for you yet. Come with me. I'll show you the medical book section."
He turned and walked directly toward the massive White Oak tree that dominated the center of the library.
Elric followed, confused about where they were going. The tree blocked the path, its trunk easily six meters in diameter. Were the medical books on the other side?
Ulfric stopped directly in front of the pale bark and spoke a single word.
"Open."
In Elric's astonished eyes, the tree suddenly started to move.
The massive trunk groaned, a sound like ancient wood straining against its nature. Then, impossibly, the bark began to split down the middle. The two halves peeled back smoothly, revealing not wood but a doorway—a passage leading into a hidden chamber within the tree itself.
Warm light spilled out from within, and Elric could see glimpses of shelves lining the interior walls.
"What are you waiting for? Go inside," Ulfric commanded.
Elric stepped forward, Roy following close behind, both of them staring in wonder at the hidden room.
"And boy," Ulfric's voice stopped Elric at the threshold. The old man's expression was completely serious now, without a trace of humor. "This is my personal collection. Books I've gathered over two centuries, some of which are the last surviving copies in the entire world. If you damage even a single page of any book in there, I will personally throw you into the sea with a rock tied around your chest."
Looking at that serious face, those ancient eyes, Elric was absolutely certain the old man wasn't joking.
"I understand," Elric said respectfully. "I'll treat them with appropriate care."
Ulfric studied him for another moment, then nodded. "Good. Now get in there and find whatever it is you're actually looking for."