Chapter 269


The Elven Palace—Isildorin’s heart.


The entire elf city was built around it like stars encircling the moon, and the Elf King resided deep within this magnificent structure that glowed with magical radiance.


Though honored with the title of “king,” elven succession was not hereditary. It resembled more a “wise successor” system.


The previous Elf King would appoint an heir, who would then need the Council of Elders’ approval before ascending the throne.


Thus, the elves only had a “King” or “Queen,” never “princes” or “princesses.”


If they practiced hereditary rule, one might very well witness the bizarre sight of a “thousand-year crown prince.”


The Elven Forest did not welcome outsiders, and the palace least of all—except for diplomatic envoys.


At this moment—


Inside a side hall of the palace, a group of humans were packing their belongings in a heavy atmosphere. Sword Saint Elvian muttered—no, cursed loudly, his voice echoing down the corridor.

Words like “dishonorable” and “scheming scum” rang out without restraint.

His voice carried far down the hall, perfectly clear to several elves nearby.


Under their unfriendly gazes, his disciple Fifteen whispered desperately:


“Master! Please! Stop talking! At least… keep your voice down!”


Unfortunately, the Sword Saint paid him no mind.


“He’s doing it on purpose.”


Saryan Whitepeak, the elf responsible for receiving the human envoy, watched Elvian’s moving mouth with a helpless expression.


The human envoys had not only demanded grain but also insisted the elves honor their alliance and send top combatants to the frontlines.


The Elf King flatly refused. Saryan’s job was to see them off with dignity.


Diplomacy was supposed to be subtle, polite yet cutting.


But the humans had sent Elvian—a human cannon!


Once refused, the Sword Saint had entered an indiscriminate ridicule mode, his vulgar language leaving the elves dumbfounded.


He had even insulted the Elf King to his face as a “shameless cur,” nearly turning the negotiations into a brawl.


Thankfully, no fight broke out. Saryan had no desire to follow in the footsteps of the elf captain of the guard, who, after provoking Elvian, was beaten so badly he was still bedridden.


In the end, the elves agreed to provide only half the grain requested. As for sending troops—impossible. The Elf King had offered elite rangers to help hunt down demon spies, but the humans outright refused.


The so-called spy hunt was, in truth, a search for the “Hero” mentioned in intelligence reports. Even if not, the humans would never hand over their rear-line secrets so easily. Failing to reach an agreement was inevitable.


Elvian’s stream of insults only grew louder. Beside Saryan came the sound of clenched teeth grinding.


It was Galadriel Dusk-Song, daughter of the Elf King, her breathtakingly beautiful face now dark as storm clouds. Her icy blue eyes locked on the noisy human man.


“That… shameless old bastard!”


Saryan almost wanted to remind her that both of them were actually much older than the human before them.


But when he caught the fury blazing in her eyes—and remembered certain past… entanglements between her and the Sword Saint—he wisely swallowed the thought.


Thus, this month-long diplomatic negotiation, meant to be solemn, ended in the least dignified way possible: the Elf King’s daughter and the human Sword Saint shouting insults at each other.


Saryan, however, finally felt relieved—no more listening to Elvian’s trash talk, no more lingering in the palace.


Though the palace was magnificent and exquisite, to elves—born attuned to nature—living in treehouses among the great forest was far more comfortable. At least, Saryan thought so.


His own home was in a treehouse at the forest’s edge.


In fact, most of the treehouses near the palace belonged to elves like him who held posts inside.


But instead of climbing the spiral stairs home, Saryan turned and walked into the deep woods. He had to check whether that troublesome little sister of his had come back yet.


The further he walked, the more remote it became—until at last, a familiar lonely hut appeared before him.


Before he could knock, a muffled “thud-thud-thud” came from inside.


Frowning, Saryan pushed open the door—


Whoosh!


A streak of blue shot at his face like an arrow loosed from the string!


Saryan’s lips moved swiftly and silently. A semi-transparent, elastic magic bubble formed before him.


The blue projectile struck the bubble, bounced weakly off, and fell into his hand.


It was the parrot Feifei—his sister’s pet. Naturally, he recognized it.


Sweeping his gaze across the room, even though it wasn’t his own home, his temple veins bulged.


In the corner, the Earth Bear Douding lay on the floor, tongue lolling, eyes rolled white; Furball hid trembling under the bed; Bubble the Shadow Swamp Python lay limp and fainted, while a pale-blue Puji was casually kicking its head. Only when Saryan entered did it stop.


As for the hut itself, it looked like a tornado had hit—furniture toppled, splintered, debris everywhere. Worst of all, the wall had a gaping hole blown through it!


Saryan felt his blood pressure rise higher than it had while enduring Elvian’s foul mouth.


Three deep breaths—only then did he calm himself.


“That idiot… what ‘treasure’ did she drag back this time?”


His eyes locked onto the Puji. A glow of magic flashed in his palm.


Scout Puji was instantly caught by an invisible magical field, struggling futilely as it was lifted into the air before Saryan’s face.


He studied the strange creature closely.


“Puji? Such an extreme mutation… where in the world did that girl dig this thing up?”


Curiosity stirred. His glowing fingertip moved closer, intending to peer inside its structure.


He wouldn’t kill it—just open, examine, then heal it.


“You! What! Are! You! Doing?!”


A furious shriek cut through the room as a figure charged in!


Elawen, just returning, pounced like an enraged lioness, her kick slamming against her brother’s shield.


The magic bubble reappeared, easily blocking her strike.


“I was just checking if this monster is dangerous,” Saryan said evenly.


“Xiao Ji saved my life! You’re not allowed to bully him!” Elawen shoved the Puji behind her, shouting.


“Saved your life?!”


Saryan’s face turned instantly grim.


Elawen realized she’d slipped, tried to turn and run—but too late.


He seized her arm, voice brooking no refusal.


“Explain! Every detail! Leave nothing out!”


Though her elder brother, he was actually over a century older than Elawen. Due to family circumstances, he had practically raised her himself.


If she had been in danger, he had every right to demand answers.


While Saryan’s attention was locked on his sister, Scout Puji wasted no time bolting—scurrying back into the wrecked hut, then darting through the hole in the back wall!


A powerhouse like that? Nope, not messing with him!


[Name: Saryan Whitepeak]


[Level: LV71]