“Can your united tribes provide enough food for a population similar to yours for a month?”
Adin had likely assumed the human settlement housed no more than a hundred people. Unfortunately for him, the actual number was ten times that.
True, many prisoners would soon return home, reducing the population—but even then, the remaining residents were far from few.
“……”
Adin fell silent.
It was clear his tribe hadn’t considered any terms beyond food.
‘They probably thought they could just throw some supplies at us and call it a deal.’
Back when the dwarves were scraping by in caves, that might have worked.
In fact, Adin might not have even known about the human settlement until now.
He must have come expecting to negotiate with the same isolated dwarves—only to realize the situation had drastically changed.
“…I will consult with the Elder.”
“Then I, too, will seek my father’s approval.”
With no immediate agreement possible, Adin had no choice but to defer to the Elder’s judgment.
“I’ll arrange temporary lodging for you. Stay there until we reconvene.”
Thus, the day’s negotiations ended without resolution, postponed for another time.
With his stay in Ansen unexpectedly extended, Ian received additional guards from Hugo.
“Young Master, it’s been a while.”
“Dwayne.”
Given the sudden encounter with the elves, Hugo had sent Dwayne and twenty guards as a precaution.
“Where’s Sir Oswell? Still hunting bandits?”
“Yes, Young Master. He’s been busy working with Young Master Hubert.”
“Ah. Can’t be helped, then.”
As a knight commander, Oswell couldn’t just abandon his duties.
Muttering to himself, Ian asked, “So, what did my father say? Are we allowed to trade weapons or not?”
“He said if it benefits the territory, proceed—and report the results later.”
Approval, then.
Even if Ian wasn’t the official heir, Hugo trusted him enough to handle this.
Knock, knock.
Nea’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Young Master, it’s me.”
“What is it?”
“The town guard captain and the elven warrior-chief are here to see you.”
Perfect timing—the elves had returned with their answer.
Adin and Grakin entered, the former visibly displeased and the latter cautious.
‘What’s their problem now?’
Grakin stepped forward.
“The Elder… wishes to negotiate with you directly. He’s invited you to our tribe.”
“Huh?”
Ian blinked.
Packing hastily, Ian boarded a carriage bound for the western forest.
The Elder’s sudden invitation was unexpected, but Ian accepted—on one condition: his twenty guards would accompany him to the forest’s edge and wait there until his return.
‘Weird. I came here for a vacation, but now I’m working.’
Staring out the carriage window, Ian pondered how he’d ended up like this.
‘Well, establishing friendly relations now will save trouble later.’
Meeting the Elder was an investment in the future—one that might prevent conflicts when expanding into the frontier.
‘Suffer now, relax later.’
His gaze shifted inside the carriage.
“Nea’s my attendant, but Sera—why are you here?”
She’d tagged along under the pretense of buying alchemy ingredients, but now she was insisting on visiting the elven village.
“The elves’ forest might have rare materials! And I’m a mage, you know. I can protect you too!”
She puffed out her chest confidently.
Ian smirked. ‘Excuses.’
Her excitement was obvious—she just wanted to see an elven village.
In Meta Pangaea, even NPCs dreamed of visiting one.
Elves rarely invited outsiders, making this a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
‘Well, having a mage along isn’t bad.’
Though Sera was more alchemist than battlemage, she was still a human weapon in her own right.
‘Assuming she doesn’t panic in a real fight.’
Still, the odds of trouble were slim.
Nea sat quietly nearby, yet her faint smile revealed the excitement she couldn’t completely hide.
‘At least someone’s happy.’
For Ian, elven villages were nothing new—but seeing his retainers so eager lifted his spirits.
The carriage rolled on toward the forest.
The journey from Ansen to the elven forest took five days by carriage, followed by a full day’s walk to reach the village itself.
“Wow… So this is an elven village…”
“I’d heard stories, but to actually see them living among the trees…”
Exhaustion from the trip vanished the moment they arrived, replaced by awe. It felt like stepping into a fairy tale.
Ian surveyed his surroundings calmly—until Adin smirked at his reaction.
‘Even their leader is stunned. Pathetic humans, amazed by our superior way of life.’
Adin had initially opposed inviting outsiders, but their dumbstruck expressions were oddly satisfying.
‘Though they’d better stock up on bug repellent.’
Beneath the village’s mystical veneer, Ian knew elven homes were notorious for attracting pests.
The Elder’s Hall
After a long walk, they stopped before the village’s largest tree.
“Wait here. Our people will handle your belongings.”
Elven attendants stepped forward to assist. Ian turned to his group.
“Grakin and I will proceed alone. Dwayne, stand guard here. Sera, Nea—settle into our quarters.”
“Yes, Young Master!”
With that, Ian and Grakin entered the hall where three elves awaited.
“Welcome at last,” said the central figure. “I am Orphen, Elder of the Bear Fang Tribe and High Elder of the United Clans.”
Flanking him were two others:
“Ludan, Elder of the Bear’s Eye Tribe.”
“Leveni, Elder of the Bear’s Claw Tribe.”
Ian bowed slightly. “Ian von Schrantz, first son of the honorable House Schrantz of the Fried Empire.”
“Sit,” Orphen gestured.
As tea was served, Ian took a cautious sip. ‘Bitter, but drinkable.’
“Was the journey difficult?” Orphen asked.
“The village’s beauty made fatigue vanish. I’m honored to witness it.”
[Elf High Elder ‘Orphen’s’ Favorability +1]
[Elf Elder ‘Ludan’s’ Favorability +1]
[Elf Elder ‘Leveni’s’ Favorability +1]
Elves adored praise—their racial pride made favourability laughably easy to manipulate.
But Ian cut to the chase.
“Elves rarely invite outsiders. Why extend this honor?”
Orphen’s smile faded.
“Lizardmen—creatures that once feared our borders—now attack us. Months ago, they slaughtered children playing in the woods. Weeks back, they raided the village itself. Ten dead, many wounded.”
Ian’s grip tightened on his cup.
‘Lizardmen? Against elves? That’s suicide.’
Even trolls or ogres struggled to challenge elves in their own forests.
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