Volume 5 Chapter 18 The Night of Reclamation*
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
A few days have passed since that unsettling experience in the underground labyrinth. Currently, I have a mountain of more constructive, tangible tasks to attend to.
Infrastructure development for the village, efficiency in food production, and, most importantly—my population growth initiative. In this closed-off village, the labor shortage is dire. The only ways to resolve it are external intake or internal reproduction. As an anomaly introduced into this stagnant ecosystem, witnessing how it shifts is part of a manager’s duty.
Nighttime. A pair of Elf spouses visited my office in the manor. The husband’s name is Gael. He is an earnest man who works as both a farmer and stonemason in the village. He was also the site foreman who acted as my right hand during the recent water tank repairs. Standing slightly hunched beside him was his wife, Elara.
”Lord,” Gael said, bowing deeply. “Forgive us for the late hour.”
Elara followed suit. She wore her long, silver hair tied back, but it lacked the luster I had seen before; it was brittle and straw-like, stripped of its oils. I understand she is one hundred and twenty years old. For a long-lived Elf, that would be roughly equivalent to a human in their late thirties or early forties. Fine lines were etched around her eyes, and the skin of her neck hung slightly, succumbing to gravity. She possessed facial features that suggested she must have been a great beauty in her youth, which made the aging process cast a melancholic shadow over her.
”What is it, Gael? Surely the compost distribution was handled during the day. Is there trouble at the site?” I asked, without looking up from my paperwork.
Gael choked on his words for a moment, then looked up, as if steeling his resolve.
”No, it is not that… Actually, I have a personal request.”
He gave his wife, who was hesitant to speak, a firm, encouraging push on the back.
”Please, my Lord… would you grant my wife, Elara, a child of the King?”
My pen stopped moving. I looked up and frowned.
”Oh?”
I leaned back in my chair, comparing the two. A request for fertilization, sanctioned by the husband. I have heard that for Elves in this world, desiring the seed of one with immense Mana is an instinctual drive—a survival strategy for the species.1 But to have them come, both husband and wife, to beg for it…
”We have been together for fifty years, but we have not been blessed with a child. The doctor says she is barren…”
”…I am so sorry, my love,” Elara whispered, her voice trembling. Her shoulders shook slightly. She must have spent years suffering under the weight of her perceived lack of utility, feeling inferior to her husband. For an Elf, being unable to bear children means something far deeper than mere infertility. It is a fundamental fear—the termination of the flow of Mana, the severing of the clan’s chain.
”If we had your vast, powerful Mana, perhaps even withered soil might bloom… This is our couple’s lifelong, desperate wish,” Gael pleaded, practically on the verge of bowing his head to the floor. There was no jealousy or humiliation in his eyes. Only pure worship and a thirst for a miracle. I see. As the ultimate repair technician, the lot has fallen to me.
I looked at Elara, appraisingly. Her prime had indeed passed. The firmness of her skin and the intoxicating scent of her pheromones had faded; she wore an air of kaitan—that withered, quiet stillness of dried flowers. But in that slightly weary, luckless expression and her mature body, there was a unique, well-worn texture that young girls lacked. A vessel of sad, dysfunctional beauty. To perform maintenance on it with my own hands, to oil it, and to restart it… that isn’t a bad proposition.
Fulfilling the requests of my subjects is also a manager’s duty. Besides, I should view this as a form of land reclamation. Tilling the wasteland, drawing water, sowing seeds. It is no different from what I have been doing in this world.
”Very well,” I nodded magnanimously. “I will plow that body.”
”Th-thank you, my Lord!” Gael tearfully expressed his gratitude, and Elara looked up, her cheeks stained with crimson. In her eyes, shame and clinging expectation shimmered.
After sending Gael away, I invited Elara into my bedroom. She was stiff with tension. As I undressed her, her revealed physique showed the clear wear of her age. Her breasts had succumbed to gravity, lacking firmness. The skin on her abdomen and thighs was slow to bounce back when pressed. It felt like a low-resilience pillow that had lost its spring, a somewhat unreliable sensation. Her skin didn’t have the sweet scent of a young girl; instead, it carried a dusty, slightly musty odor—a mix of dried grass and the residue of daily life.
”…I apologize for such an unsightly body,” Elara said, covering her chest with her arms in embarrassment. It was the behavior of one who fully understood the low value of her own body.
”Don’t hide. Let me assess the condition.”
I laid her on the bed and began to caress her body, much like a farmhand inspecting barren land. As I funneled a trace amount of Mana from my fingertips, I checked the texture of her skin. It was dry. Lacking moisture, oil, and the very life energy itself. The “plumbing” of her blood vessels had become stagnant, and the circulation of Mana was poor. It was no wonder seeds wouldn’t take root like this.
”We start with soil improvement.”
I loomed over her. First, I needed priming water. I kneaded her breasts while trailing my lips down her neck. When I licked her skin with the tip of my tongue, it tasted of salt. I took my time with the foreplay. Like priming a dried-out pump, I repeated the caresses meticulously. The Mana flowing from my fingertips stimulated her nerves directly, forcibly awakening senses that had fallen dormant.
”Ah… nngh… My Lord, there…!”
She, who had shown little reaction at first, began to let out sweet cries. Her body temperature rose, and moisture began to return to her skin, bit by bit. I trailed my fingers to her secret place. It, too, was dry. The secretion of love fluids was minimal. I would only injure her if I forced my way in.
”Can you feel it? The plumbing still works, you know.”
I coated my fingers in Mana and teased her clitoris persistently. I poured in heat and micro-vibrations, much like an electric massager. It wasn’t just physical pleasure; I continued to apply an overload to her nervous system through Mana.
”Aah, hie! Something—it’s tingling…!”
Elara’s hips arched. From the spring that had been on the verge of drying up, a transparent droplet finally began to seep out. I scooped up the lubricant, spread it to the v**inal opening, and slowly inserted my fingers. The inside was narrow and hot. Perhaps because it had not been used in so long, or perhaps due to her nerves, her muscle walls were stiff and rigid. She furrowed her brows in pain even as she accepted a single finger.
”Hoo… it’s… tight…”
”It’s rehabilitation. Relax your muscles.”
I increased it to two, then three fingers, stirring to stretch the inner walls. I scrubbed the inside with vigor, as if scraping away stubborn rust.
”Ah, there, no…!”
Once it was sufficiently wet and softened, I applied my own rigidity. My erect p**is had surged with blood, possessing considerable hardness. When I pressed the tip against her tightness, Elara’s body shuddered.
”I’m going in.”
”Yes… aah!”
I pierced her all the way to the base in a single motion. Elara arched her back and let out a sound akin to a scream. It was tight. The strong friction, like dry rubber, and the pressure of the flesh tightened around my wedge. Because of the lack of lubrication, the feeling of raw flesh rubbing against raw flesh was transmitted directly.
I began to move my hips. Slowly at first, and carefully. Then, violently and deeply. Like striking a plow into parched earth, I pounded in—heavy and certain. Dull sounds of flesh colliding rang through the room with each thud. Every time my wedge drove in, her body shook, and her disheveled silver hair spread across the pillow.
”Ah, amazing…! So deep… something so thick…!”
”That’s right. Take in more.”
I consciously opened the Mana paths within my body. Through the point of union, I pumped high-concentration Mana into her. It was a fuel injection accompanied by a physical pressure, like forcing water through a hose. I could feel my Mana invading from her uterus into her blood vessels, circulating throughout her entire body. (Reach every single cell. Flush out the waste, and force the metabolic functions to activate. Spread the fuel to every corner of her body.)
Elara’s skin gradually began to flush. It was proof that her blood circulation was improving and her body temperature was rising. Sweat broke out, dampening her previously parched skin. The scent of dried grass vanished, replaced by a suffocating, heady, feminine aroma.
”It’s hot! My body… it feels like it’s burning!”
”Let it burn. Burn away all the impurities.”
I picked up the pace. The dry slapping sounds turned into wet, squelching ones. The spring had been resurrected. The overflowing love fluids coated my p**is, making the movement smoother.
The climax approached. Elara seemed to be at her limit as well. Her nails dug into my back, and she looked as if she were losing consciousness.
”My Lord! My Lord! It’s coming, something—it’s overflowing…!”
”Take it all!”
I drove into her deepest point, forcing the uterine opening wide, and e**culated with all my might. With a pulsing rhythm, a vast quantity of seed and Mana poured into her womb. It was more than a mere act of reproduction; it was a forced blood transfusion of life energy. The hot torrent filled her abdomen, causing it to swell.
”Aaaaaaaaaah—!”
Elara shrieked, her entire body convulsing as she lifted her back. At that moment, a dramatic transformation occurred.
I felt as though I could hear her heart thumping—a loud, rhythmic beat. The Mana I had injected accelerated her stagnant metabolism in one fell swoop.
Before my eyes, her skin began to change. Her dull, sallow complexion brightened as if blood were once again circulating from within, and a rosy flush returned. The skin that had been dry and flaky filled with oil and moisture, gaining a supple luster. The fine lines around her eyes were pushed out from within by the return of fullness to her flesh, causing them to vanish. The breasts that had succumbed to gravity regained the tension of muscle and fat, pointing upward once more. The hair that had been brittle returned to a shine like polished silver tableware.
This was not the fantasy of a magical girl transformation. It was a process of physical repair, like soaking withered vegetables in water, or applying high-grade oil to leather products that had been neglected.
Time was being wound back. The weary body that had been equivalent to a woman in her forties passed through the seductiveness of her thirties, and became fixed in the beauty of her prime, at her most fertile peak. I had seen women rejoice as their skin improved, but I had never witnessed a change to this degree.
”Hah… hah… hah…”
Elara was still lost in the afterglow, trembling in spasms. I slowly pulled myself out. With a wet, sliding sound, the white liquid overflowing from her trailed down her thighs. Her body was slick with sweat and semen, rising in a haze of steam.
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Summary:
The protagonist receives an unexpected request from a couple, Gael and Elara, to perform a reproductive service due to their inability to conceive. Viewing the act through his characteristic lens of mechanical maintenance and land management, the protagonist engages with Elara to “repair” her fertility. The process results in a dramatic biological restoration of her physical youth, leaving her in a state of post-coital recovery.
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Trivia:
The protagonist is not native to the village and views it as an ecosystem to be managed.
Elves in this world view the seed of powerful individuals as a necessary resource for their survival.
The protagonist’s internal monologue treats the act of s*x as equivalent to agricultural land development.
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Translation Notes:
Notes:
• Elara – A 120-year-old Elf with long silver hair and mature features, she is married to Gael. For fifty years, she has struggled with infertility, leaving her unable to conceive a child. This ongoing battle has left her living with a deep sense of inferiority despite her long life.
• Gael – An honest, mud-covered farmer and stonemason who serves as a disciplined field foreman. Married to Elara, he leads repair work on the village water tank with a stern, military-like demeanor, managing his relationships with others through strict authority and diligent leadership.
• Man – A roughneck wearing a hat who participated in a group assault. He suffers the loss of his right arm and later his left arm during an experiment by the protagonist before being stored.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
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