Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

The silence of the ancient forest was interrupted by a commanding voice.

"Don't call me father—call me ancestor!" Rhodes declared with mock indignation. Despite the temptation of being addressed as "father" by two stunningly beautiful elves, he considered himself a gentleman, not someone so easily swayed by such frivolities.

He turned to the ethereal figures before him. "You are the first of the night elf clan to be born. From now on, you shall be Sylvia, Queen of the Night Elves."

Sylvia's allure was undeniable. Night elves, bred from the power of the abyss, carried the essence of darkness and destruction in their veins. Their wild, dangerous beauty rivaled even that of the drow. Yet, unlike their infamous counterparts, night elves weren't driven solely by lustful indulgence. Their personalities were fiery, their presence commanding, but their passions were restrained—like predators biding their time.

Rhodes shifted his gaze to the other figure, her presence serene but no less powerful. "And you, the first deep-sea elf of this world, shall be called Margaret, Queen of the Deep Sea Elves."

Where Sylvia embodied lethality, Margaret was a wellspring of vitality. Deep-sea elves were famed for their unparalleled healing abilities, their magic capable of restoring life to even the most grievously wounded. Both queens carried fragments of Rhodes' power—an inheritance gifted by the Sun Well. It was a bond forged not of blood, but of creation itself.

With these two, alongside Gloria, the first Sun Elf Queen, the Ancient Tree of the Sun had now birthed three distinct elven lineages. Gloria, as the firstborn, was unique. She alone could channel the full power of the Ancient Tree, making her the pinnacle of the elven race.

---

As night fell over the forest, Rhodes prepared to rest. Yet, old habits died hard. "For someone used to an exorcist's life, this... idleness is a torment," he mused, suppressing a sigh.

Fortunately, the forest wasn't entirely devoid of activity. Many lost souls cried out for salvation, providing Rhodes ample opportunities to continue his sacred work. His mind, however, wandered.

Images of those he had encountered flashed through his thoughts—the twin goddesses of light and shadow, Rapunzel, and Silea the mage. Then there were the noble figures: Princess Aurora, Euphemia the warrior's mother, and Cinderella's infamous stepmother, Lady Termani. Each possessed a unique charm that lingered in his memory.

Finally, his thoughts turned to the elves—beings born from his blood. Despite their origins, Rhodes couldn't bring himself to see them as true descendants. "It's not as if I actually fathered them," he rationalized, smirking. "From a scientific standpoint, I'm just a benevolent donor."

His lips curled into a grin. "Children make choices; adults take them all." It was an arduous mission, this "exorcism," but he bore it willingly. After all, no one could resist his kindness.

---

The morning greeted him with newfound power. "Sign in," he commanded.

Ding!

[Sign-in successful! Reward: The Ten Commandments (Godly Reverence)]

The notification shimmered before him.

[Effect: Anyone who turns their back on the wielder of this commandment is deemed disrespectful to the gods and is compelled to obey the wielder's orders.]

Rhodes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Compelling anyone who turns their back... Sounds tricky, but the potential is immense." His mind immediately raced through scenarios where this power could turn tides. Against even a demigod like Gloria, the commandment had proven effective, cementing its place as a formidable tool in his arsenal.

"Perhaps this will even work on true gods," he mused, though testing such a theory would require careful consideration.

---

It was nearing noon when Rhodes realized how much time had slipped away. "Yulia and the others must be growing restless," he muttered, spreading his radiant light wings. He had tasked his companions to remain in the Kingdom of Etel, promising to return before Snow White's fateful ceremony to choose her husband.

As he soared above the forest, a glint of activity caught his eye. Below, a bustling group of short-statured figures mined ore with precision and fervor.

"Dwarves," he noted, descending closer. Though rare in this world, their craftsmanship was legendary. Unlike the cunning goblins who thrived on trickery and invention, dwarves mastered the art of forging. Their weapons and armor were treasures coveted across realms, and their hierarchy was based not on strength, but on the skill of their hammer.

Rhodes observed the tribe of a hundred dwarves with intrigue. "Seven among them must be the ones I seek," he whispered. His lips curled into a playful smile. "Why stop at seven? All of them could prove useful."

Without hesitation, he descended, his figure imposing yet graceful. Before the stunned dwarves could react, he stepped behind them.

"Commandments! Respect God!"

The air crackled with divine authority. Like marionettes cut from strings, the dwarves fell under his sway. Silently, they marched into the chess-piece world Rhodes conjured, vanishing from the forest.

---

With his latest acquisition secured, Rhodes resumed his flight toward Etel.

"Training dwarves will take time," he mused. "But persuasion works wonders. And if persuasion fails... well, there are always other means."

A chuckle escaped his lips, dark yet amused. "Morality is overrated anyway."

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