7. The Outlander Who Settles in

Oh, Isekai life, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

First, the eye candy. What can I say? The Elves in this village are so stereotypically beautiful it almost makes you angry.

The women, of course, but also the men, and I call it like it is. The place is just teeming with Orlando Blooms and Daniel Henneys, and I’m pretty sure my sister would die of a fangirl aneurysm if she could be in my place right now.

Even the ones who’re visibly ‘old’ have, to a one, aged gracefully. I’ve no idea if they’re 60, 100, or 1000, but however old they are, they’re kicking it like a bunch of silver foxes and vixens. Really gives the whole place a dignified and sophisticated vibe.

If I could somehow bottle the essence of what makes these people so hale, I’d bring it back to Earth and make a fortune. Failing that, I can only hope that some of it rubs off on me.

Second, these Elves know how to party!

If you thought they’d be all dour and self-serious like the Rivendell types, you’d be dead wrong. Granted, I was wrong too, because those were exactly my own assumptions, only for them to be debunked on my very first night in Isekai.

You see, it turns out killing that fire-breathing Dragon was very important for the people of Kanata. I’m hazy on a lot of the details (owing to the language barrier), but the gist is that the Dragon was throwing a hissy fit in recent times, riling up the local monsters while also engineering the worst ‘heat wave’ this region had ever seen. Suffice to say, the villagers were extremely happy about Leto and I getting rid of the reptilian harbinger of global warming, and they showed it by throwing the biggest and rowdiest party I’ve ever attended.

Food. Drinks. Music. Dance. Archery contest. Stand-up comedy? I didn’t understand the jokes, of course, but this one girl that was up there was killing it. And, as it turns out, Elven laughter is just as infectious as human ones.

There was even something that looked and sounded a lot like a freestyle rap battle. Two dour- and self-serious-looking dudes taking turns roasting each other in Quebecois High Valyrian. The crowd was loving this one too: whooping, hollering, throwing drinks, and generally looking a lot like the Elven version of the Supa Hot Fire meme.

I was whooping and hollering with the best of them. Did I understand a single word that was said? No, but it was provocative! It got the people going!

And one thing you need to know about me: I’m a people-pleaser. Always was from K-12 to university all the way into adult life with adult jobs. Often to my own detriment, but hey, I can’t change who I am overnight just because I’ve been transported to a magical world with freestyling Elves.

On this occasion, at least, I think my people-pleaser instincts served me well. The Elves seemed to really dig my enthusiasm, and they kept coming up to clap me on the back, offer a roasted duck leg, or refill my drinks.

By then, I was no longer self-conscious, because I’d finally been allowed to change. Into what I’d call the ‘NPC peasant look’, but a bit sloppy and over-loose. They just couldn’t find any adult clothes that fit me, which is a bit embarrassing, but not nearly as much as chilling in my boxer briefs for eternity.

Where am I on the list now? Oh yeah, third thing. Um, you’re gonna hate me for this, but the third thing I love about Isekai life is Elf Girl.

A funny old thing happens when you’re hopelessly crushing on someone. What was that saying again? Distance makes the heart grow fonder?

As the celebrations wore on, it became very clear that Leto Iriden was something of a superstar even among these hale, beautiful Elves. Villagers were constantly demanding her attention and pulling her in all directions throughout the night. Which meant she couldn’t babysit me, and yeah, I admit it, that gave me separation anxiety. And separation anxiety only made my heart grow fonder.

Not that I have first-hand experience, but I imagine it’d be a lot like crushing on the popular girl in school. You see her charisma and her competence on full display. You see the way everyone else admires her just as much as you do. You see all the ways she isn’t and maybe never will be yours, and it’s a bittersweet feeling.

It’s also absolutely ridiculous for me, a dude in his late twenties, to be feeling this way about any girl—let alone an Elf Girl I’d met literal hours ago. I’m well aware, chat, so I don’t need you crucifying me on this. It’s just… the more I try to suppress these ridiculous feelings, the more they burst to the fore and constrict my chest.

It’s honestly kind of strange. Strange and intoxicating. Almost like… magic. And I don’t mean that in a Disney warm fuzzy way. I mean… literally magic.

Like someone’s literally cast a spell on me. And what’s crazier, I think I know who did. At least I see their face—her face—every time I close my eyes and recall the only time in my life where I faced down the barrel of a gun.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

So yeah. Leto Iriden is the third thing I love about Isekai life. And she’s also the first thing that gives me the heebie-jeebies.

***

I wake the next morning, not with a start, but with a splitting headache.

Ohhh, I know what this is, and I hate myself for it. Not since undergrad have I been this hungover. I really hope ‘hangover cure potion’ is a thing in this world.

I wake in what looks to be someone’s storage shed. Boxes, bushels, jars, that sort of thing. I don’t remember ending up here last night, and I rather selfishly think this is no way to treat the village hero that killed a motherfucking Dragon.

But I soon forget my petulant thoughts and even my physical symptoms, as the door to the shed opens to reveal a brightly smiling Leto. Now I’m busy patting down my bedhead and checking to see if my breath stinks (it does; dang it), even while Leto yells for me to get up like the world’s kindest and most cheerful drill sergeant.

She’s already dressed and ready to start the day, showing not a single sign of last night’s heavy drinking (do Elves not get hungover?). I, on the other hand, am still wearing the same NPC clothes from last night, which is now sour with sweat and alcohol on top of being two sizes too large.

I try to pantomime my desperate need to change again, but Leto pushes me out the door in a hurry, either oblivious or uncaring about me being an utter slob. I’ve no choice but to follow, but not before doubling back to grab my sword. It’s the only valuable thing I have on me, and I haven’t yet spent enough time among the Elves to have shed my mistrustful Earthling ways.

It’s a beautiful Isekai morning here in Kanata. The sun’s shining (and high enough to tell me I’ve slept in badly), the children are laughing, and the summer breeze is pleasant on my skin and soothing to my senses.

Leto leads me to the market, where the villagers have set up a sort of outdoor buffet. I’m heartened to see that there are at least a few stragglers other than me: clearly hungover Elves who look to be stuck between either dying or forcing breakfast down their throats.

I’m tempted to follow their lead in the ‘dying’ part of things, but my need to look good in front of Elf Girl supersedes the active collapse of my bodily functions. It’s all I can do to keep myself from falling out of my seat as Leto goes and rustles up plates for both of us.

Elven omelette. Elven coffee (?). Elf Girl smile. The holy trinity of hangover cures.

For a while, I concentrate on chewing my delicious food and counting the ways I love Isekai life. It takes me a while to notice that Leto hasn’t really touched her food, and is instead watching me eat with this intensely curious look on her face.

“Sorry,” I blurt (why do I keep apologizing?), embarrassed without really knowing why, “am I doing something weird?”

Leto doesn’t understand me of course, but she offers a reply anyway, in the form of pantomime. She points at the sword that’s resting on the bench next to me, makes finger guns, then does this pew-pew motion. She then gives an exaggerated shrug, the universal (and adorable) signal for: “what gives?”

“Oh, this? Yeah, I don’t really know, myself,” I say, still a little too hungover for coherent thought. I then do an exaggerated shrug of my own before adding, “I call it the Sword That Shoots Guns. The STSG.”

“Es-tee-es-gee?”

“Yes, perfect.” I nod and give a thumb up, looking for all the world like I’d just dropped some basic knowledge on a novice adventurer.

“STSG…” Leto murmurs in a low voice, almost to herself. She then looks up at me with a slight frown. She looks as though she’s struggling to find the right words, and in the end, she utters a single phrase, one that sounds something like: “Relic.”

“Relic?” I parrot, matching her frown. “That almost sounds… Is it like the English word ‘Relic’? Is that what you think the STSG is? Are there other weapons like the ST—wait, are there other people like me?”

Despite my rising excitement, I see the look of confusion on Leto’s face and stop. I don’t want her feeling flustered on my account.

This exchange is followed by an awkward sort of silence. Leto looks to be deep in thought, while I’m too hungover to think about anything, no matter how pertinent it might be to my Isekai adventure. I take another sip of my coffee, hoping Leto would continue to take the lead on this.

Thankfully, she does. She suddenly looks up from her reverie with her trademark bright smile, then points at the STSG again before drawing a strawberry shape in the air with her fingers.

“Oh, that,” I say, and rummage in my pockets for the Dragon’s gemstone. After I pull it out, Leto nods her approval and gestures toward the market around us. She then pantomimes us walking together before pointing back at the STSG.

Apparently, I’m not so hungover that I can’t decipher some basic sign language. Leto wants me to go on baby’s First Isekai Shopping Spree, hopefully with the view of finding a way to fit the gemstone into the STSG.

I can agree that’s important, but I also have a bunch of other things I’d like to buy if possible. Change of clothes to start with, maybe a bag or two for some actual inventory space, and oh, don’t forget—

“While we’re at it,” I say while putting my hands over my ears, “do you know where I can find some form of hearing protection? Because my sword is loud.”