Saving The Monster Race Starts With Breeding The Elf Village-Chapter 166: Unfamiliar Feeling

The shooting practice had finally come to an end.

All across the clearing, elves were dismantling their weapons and placing them back into their respective cases.

The distant targets were riddled with holes—some clustered tightly, others scattered wildly, each telling the story of its shooter’s skill.

Spent bullet shells littered the ground like tiny golden flowers, and the air hung thick with the sharp scent of gunpowder and smoke.

And right now every elf wore the same expression: reluctance

Reluctane to let go of the strange, addictive power they had held in their hands.

After all, there was something about firing a gun.

The instant feedback, the raw force, the way a simple squeeze of the finger could reach out and touch something so far away that was undeniably thrilling.

Even knowing that bows were their true heritage, even understanding the dangers these weapons represented, they couldn’t deny the rush.

But when they looked to the side and saw the stacks of beautiful new compound bows waiting for them—bows that would finally let them shoot like real elves again their spirits lifted.

Today had been more than they could have hoped for.

New experiences. New weapons. New hope.

They began packing up with satisfied smiles, already planning how they would practice with their new bows tomorrow.

Nearby, Leona was dismantling her sniper rifle.

She had asked Luca if she could do it herself, and he had agreed with an amused smile.

So now she worked methodically, treating the disassembly like an intricate puzzle, taking her time to understand how each piece fit together.

The stock. The barrel. The bolt mechanism. Piece by piece, the magnificent weapon came apart in her hands.

She too felt the reluctance to stop shooting.

For others, thrill came from different places—winning sword battles, catching the biggest fish, the adrenaline of dangerous sports.

For Leona, true thrill came from accuracy.

From hitting targets so far away that others couldn’t even see them clearly.

From breaking her own records, pushing her own limits, reaching distances that seemed impossible.

And this gun? It had let her break record after record.

She had hit targets at ranges she never could have dreamed of with a bow. Each bullseye had sent a rush of giddy satisfaction through her veins, a feeling she usually kept hidden but savored deeply.

But right now, more than the thrill of shooting, more than the satisfaction of perfect shots, she was feeling something else entirely.

Warmth.

As she carefully placed each dismantled piece into the case, her eyes kept drifting toward Luca.

He was standing a short distance away, watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of orange and pink.

The light caught his features, softening them, making him look almost ethereal.

Leona would glance at him. Then look away quickly when he seemed about to turn. Then glance again when his attention was elsewhere.

Her cheeks burned every time.

It had been like this ever since the head-patting as he had kept his promise.

All throughout her shooting, even as she deliberately slowed down between shots, he had continued stroking her hair with that same gentle, patient rhythm.

And somehow, impossibly, it had gotten better with each passing moment.

He had learned her preferences without her saying a word.

Adjusted pressure. Changed finger placement. Varied the angle.

Every stroke seemed perfectly calibrated to make her melt.

There had been moments—many moments—when she wanted to stop shooting entirely and just lay her head down, close her eyes, and let his touch carry her into peaceful sleep.

The thought had surfaced again and again, and each time she had shaken it away, embarrassed by her own longing.

But the longing remained.

And with it came a realization.

She had never felt this way about anyone before.

Her daughters—she loved them with every fiber of her being.

That love was deep, primal, unquestioning.

It was the love of a mother, fierce and protective.

Her sister Nyx—she loved her too, in the complicated way of siblings.

Annoying and infuriating at times, but bound by blood and history and shared experience.

The villagers—they were her family too, in the broader sense.

People she had lived beside for over a century, whose joys and sorrows she had shared.

But this feeling for Luca was different.

It made her cheeks burn at the mere thought of him.

Made her look away when their eyes met.

Urged her stumble over words that normally came easily.

Made her want to be near him, and simultaneously want to run away.

She didn’t know what to call it.

It was a nice feeling. Confusing, yes.

Embarrassing, definitely...But nice.

A feeling she didn’t want to let go.

She looked down at the final piece in her hands—the scope. Such a simple thing, really, but capable of such wonder.

She raised it to her eye, looking through the lens, watching as the world expanded and distant objects snapped into sharp focus.

The magnification caught movement—a group of children, including Lulu, running around the clearing.

They were having a competition to see who could collect the most bullet shells, their laughter carrying faintly across the distance.

Lulu was in the lead, her arms full of golden casings, a triumphant grin on her face.

Leona smiled softly.

Without thinking, she murmured aloud,

"Lulu would really like this scope, you know."

Luca’s ears perked up at the murmured words. He turned from the sunset, curiosity piqued.

"Why do you say that?"

Leona started slightly, not having realized she’d spoken aloud.

But instead of retreating into embarrassment, she found herself answering anyway, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

"Lulu has always been fascinated by birds."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"The same enthusiasm she has for chickens? She has it for every feathered creature in the sky."

"She’ll climb the tallest trees just to catch a glimpse of them. Spends hours bird-watching, completely patient, completely still, which is remarkable for someone so energetic."

Luca smiled, imagining it.

"But she always complains that the birds fly too high.."

Leona continued, warmth creeping into her voice.

"That they should come down closer so she can see them better. Her eyesight isn’t the best at distance, you see. She’s mentioned it many times."

She looked down at the scope in her hands, turning it over thoughtfully.

"So, if she had something like this—something that could magnify everything she sees—she would be able to spot birds from anywhere."

"Even sitting on the ground, lounging comfortably, she could watch them for hours. Her bird-watching experience would be enhanced beyond anything she’s ever imagined."

She smiled softly at the thought.

"It would be so nice if she had something like this."

She hadn’t meant it as a request. Hadn’t meant anything by it at all, really.

Just a wistful thought, spoken into the evening air.

She was about to place the scope back into the case—

But Luca stepped forward and gently grabbed her hand.

"Then she should have it."

Leona blinked, surprised. "What?"

"The scope." Luca gestured at it with his free hand. "Lulu should have it."

Leona stared at him, then at the scope, then back at him.

"But—this is part of your gun. The sniper rifle won’t work without it. This is a precious piece of equipment from your world, and you’re just—"

Luca waved dismissively.

"I don’t really care about this specific gun that much. It’s not like I use it...And honestly?"

He fondly looked at Lulu who was counting her bullet cases.

"I’d much rather see it used for birdwatching than for killing. Lulu will get far more joy out of it than I ever will."

"That’s a much better purpose, don’t you think?"

Leona’s heart swelled.

She could already imagine Lulu’s reaction—the squeal of delight, the bouncing excitement, the endless chatter about all the birds she would finally be able to see clearly.

"Then you should give it to her."

She held the scope out toward Luca.

"She’ll be thrilled coming from you."

But instead of taking it, Luca gently pushed her hand back toward her chest.

"Not me."

Leona frowned. "What?"

"You." His voice was firm, his eyes steady. "You’re going to give it to her. Personally."

Leona’s blood ran cold.

"I—I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

Because she was scared.

Because she had spent so long treating her daughters like strangers that she didn’t know how to be their mother anymore.

Because every time she thought about approaching them with genuine warmth, the memories of past consequences came flooding back.

Leona’s face went pale.

"I—I can’t—"

"You can."

Luca said with conviction, but Leona looked away, her throat tight.

"What if...What if something happens? What if giving her this causes—"

"Leona..."

Luca’s voice was soft but steady.

"Nothing is going to happen. You’re not going to hurt her by showing you care. You’re not going to cause disaster by being a good mother."

She trembled, caught between longing and fear and seeing this, Luca’s expression turned serious.

"Here’s the choice. Either you walk over there and give that scope to your daughter yourself—or I take it back and lock it away in that case forever."

He tapped the open box beside him.

"So what’s it going to be?"

He gave a daring look.

"Are you going to give Lulu something that will bring her joy every single day?"

"Or are you going to let your fear win and disappoint her?"

Leona’s breath caught.

She looked toward the distance, where Lulu was still running around with the other children, laughing, her face bright with happiness.

That laugh—that beautiful, carefree laugh was one of Leona’s favorite sounds in the world.

She thought about Lulu’s face lighting up when she saw the scope.

Thought about her spending hours watching birds, finally able to see them clearly, finally able to enjoy her passion without frustration.

Her mind was made up.

Without another word, she clutched the scope and began walking toward her daughter.

Luca watched her go, a satisfied smile on his face as Leona approached Lulu, who was so engrossed in her competition that she didn’t notice at first.

When she finally did, her eyes went wide—first with surprise, then with confusion as her mother held out the scope.

Leona spoke quietly. Lulu listened, her expression shifting from confusion to disbelief to pure, radiant joy.

Then, unexpectedly, she looked past her mother—directly at Luca.

And broke into a sprint.

Luca barely had time to register what was happening before Lulu launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck with enthusiastic force.

"THANK YOU, LUCA! THANK YOU SO MUCH!"

He staggered, catching her reflexively. "Wait, what—"

"With this, I’ll be able to see all the birds!"

Lulu squealed, pulling back just enough to hold up the scope triumphantly.

"Last time I climbed so high to see one, I almost fell! And then a bird attacked me!"

She pouted at the memory, then immediately brightened again.

"But now I don’t have to climb at all! I can just sit and look through this! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Luca blinked, completely bewildered.

"Wait—hold on—what exactly did your mother say to you?"

Lulu tilted her head innocently.

"She said you wanted to give this to me! That you thought I would love it for bird-watching, and you told her to give it to me!"

Luca’s eye twitched.

He slowly turned his head toward Leona.

She was already walking away, her back firmly toward him, but he could see her shoulders shaking slightly.

She had changed the script.

Completely.

Made it seem like the gift was entirely his idea, his generosity, his thoughtfulness. She had erased herself from the equation entirely.

Luca stared at her retreating form, a mixture of exasperation and reluctant admiration swirling in his chest.

’Smooth.’ He thought. ’Very smooth.’