After searching further, the two of them found a corpse in another room—an elf's remains, cut cleanly into two halves.
The upper body.
Any mana once contained in the bones had already dissipated.
All flesh and skin were completely gone.
Only a dark-toned leather armor remained on the outside, along with a sheathed short sword at the waist.
There was no magic staff—something an elven mage would normally carry.
As far as Leon knew, spellcasters from the Elven Holy Land were all granted staves made from the trunk of the Elven Sacred Tree—absurdly valuable.
Iris's staff was the same kind.
Around the remains, a magic circle had been painted in blood in an unmistakably elven style.
It was a common six-pointed star formation, with a finger bone placed at each point.
The upper-body remains sat in the center of the formation.
On the floor there was also a dragged smear of blood, cutting across the top portion of the circle's runic text.
Following the resonance hidden in her bloodline, Iris had already confirmed the remains belonged to her father.
In silence, she performed the traditional elven funeral rites with solemn respect.
From Leon's angle, he could see moisture at the corners of Iris's eyes.
Though she had never met this father, the bloodline bond of elves likely let her sense something from him.
Leon didn't try to comfort her. He simply waited while Iris processed the emotion on her own.
"Leon," Iris said at last, "this magic circle… should be a dismantling array."
"A dismantling array?"
"It's usually used when an elf's lifespan is nearing its end—so their vast accumulated mana and life force can 'return' to the Sacred Tree through dissolution."
Iris explained.
That made Leon remember: in the players' terms from his previous life, this was an elven funeral array.
As Iris said, the elves had built their holy land around a world-supporting Sacred Tree, with the Holy Land radiating outward from it.
And the long-lived races returning their millennia of accumulation to the Sacred Tree before death helped the tree continue to expand. It could even produce effects similar to divine blessing, gradually raising the average lifespan of each generation of elves.
It was said that tens of thousands of years ago, elves only lived two or three hundred years.
Only about six thousand years ago did pure-blood elves with thousand-year lifespans gradually emerge.
But recently, problems had surfaced within elven society—population growth and wartime losses had crossed a critical threshold. That was why the Elven Holy Land had begun ordering pure-blood elves to increase intermarriage with other intelligent races.
And that would become a core "hidden thread" running through all four parts of Sword, Magic, and the Holy Land.
At the start of Part Four, the Sacred Tree would collapse, triggering the descent of the God of Finality.
The final boss of Part One also launched a nation-destroying war to seize a lost Sacred Tree treasure from the Holy Land.
During that war, with multiple factions and powerhouses involved, a continent-shattering crisis could erupt at any moment.
That war would begin four years later, in winter.
It would last two and a half years.
It was a war Leon could not ignore.
He didn't intend to fight on the front lines, but he had to lay groundwork in advance.
When the tide of history arrived, you couldn't simply stay untouched.
That said, Leon still hadn't decided which major faction he would ultimately align with.
Finding a reliable backer would be best—an experienced legend, a mighty epic.
Leon planned to quietly prepare for that in the future.
"It looks like your father was cut in half by some sharp weapon," Leon said, offering his inference. "He fled here, and perhaps to prevent the enemy from gaining more, he set up this array to dissolve his body. And in doing so, he unintentionally 'fed' this Element Trap Prison, making this branch region more blessed than other places."
Iris didn't respond.
For her, knowing the rough situation wasn't enough—the identity of the killer mattered most.
Unfortunately, there were no clues.
But Leon's inference fit the current situation; it was probably close to the truth.
There was still the other half of the body up in the swamp—later they could examine it to confirm.
"Iris—those are your father's personal effects. You should take them."
"Thank you, Captain."
Iris used "Captain" again.
She understood the difference between public and private. She knew Leon was giving her these items—loot that could be treated as spoils—because he was acting as the party leader.
"Also," Leon added, "inside that sealed archive case, there may be the reason your father died. I'll find someone I trust to open it. If we discover anything, I'll tell you."
"Okay."
After a bit of organizing, Iris gathered the remains and carefully collected the belongings one by one.
They were all valuable.
Especially the dark leather armor—the highest-value piece. It had originally been at least fourth-tier, possibly even fifth-tier.
Even though it had been severed at the waist, lost durability, and gone decades without maintenance, it should still qualify as at least third-tier.
But for Leon, the greatest value of these items was tied to the Fallen Dark Elf quest he would need to solve later.
For now, it was best that Iris—the direct descendant—kept them.
After Leon searched once more to confirm nothing else remained, they left the foul-smelling basement.
And they began the journey back.
Leon couldn't wait to advance his tier.
~~~
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