Round 23: Uther

Forty-seven came to this conclusion when the old elf turned his gaze toward him.
“I am Uther… Welcome, guests from other races,” said the old Dark Elf, turning to Forty-seven and the others, speaking slowly with a strange rhythm.

After walking along a path for a while, they gradually arrived at a true elven settlement. Sheltered by countless towering trees, only a little sunlight could penetrate through the barriers to reach this place. Yet, mosses that emitted a faint glow and tens of thousands of tiny creatures resembling fireflies floating in the air ensured clear visibility day and night. Houses, even those surrounded by vines, were built beside streams or on trees. Wooden suspension bridges and natural vines connected all the separate areas. Many Dark Elves were walking about there. When they saw Uther leading a group into this serene world, they simply paused briefly, gave Uther and his guests a brief nod, and then left. Whether walking or jumping, these Dark Elves made no sound, or perhaps their sounds had blended in with the rustling of water in the forest and the sound of wind through the trees, making them indistinguishable.

A giant ancient tree suddenly came into view. It seemed difficult to spot such an unusually large tree from a distance, yet once approached, it was impossible to see the whole of it. The part of the trunk near the ground had been hollowed out to form a huge house. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a small indoor plaza. Yet this damage posed no problem to the giant tree, which still stood lush and vibrant, as if that huge room was merely a small hole carved by a woodpecker.

Uther led his guests up to this plaza via wooden stairs. Although it wasn’t very high, the entire elven settlement was in view. It was a dreamlike realm akin to a fairyland. Even Forty-seven thought it could rival a battlefield of bloodshed.

“Please sit, my guests,” Uther said as they entered a smaller room across the plaza. He gestured for everyone to take a seat. The members of the guild had already been taken to another place. Only Josen, Miria, Forty-seven, along with two elves—Kastor and Alphens—followed Uther here.

Josen seemed hesitant, while Miria had no intention of sitting down. She wouldn’t sit at the same table as a sinister half-pyrefield creature unless the twin suns never shone again.

Forty-seven also didn’t sit. He observed with interest the decorations on the room’s walls—clusters of branches and flowers growing on them, perhaps forming various totem-like patterns under the effect of magic. He stood next to a relief of a grizzly bear, which was half a head taller than him.

“Heh, it was my oversight. The three rooms next door are prepared for three guests. You can rest there…”

Before Miria could object, Forty-seven spoke first: “The only reason I came here is to talk to Freth about something. But it seems he’s not here. Where did you hide him?”

“We came here too to find Mr. Freys…” Jorsen gave a slight bow and made the same request to Uther: “We were entrusted by him to go to the Frostbound Wasteland to rescue your people.”
“Rest assured… Mr. Freys isn’t hurt at all.” Uther’s eyes also emitted a faint white light, though it was slightly cloudier, probably due to old age.
“Then, since we’ve proven that the tragedy that occurred at the guild’s stronghold has nothing to do with Mr. Freys or us, can we ask Mr. Freys to come out?” The underlying meaning was whether Freys could be released. It was indeed a shame that Jorsen wasn’t a diplomat.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Freys isn’t here right now. He and his companions are deep in the Sleeping Forest. The Priests of the Night will ensure his safety…”
Suddenly, flames erupted from 47 before going out instantly, as if he had yawned or sneezed.
The gray bear beside 47 turned into a black bear. Kastor frowned, while Alphens and Uther remained unimpressed.
“If someone had told me this earlier, I wouldn’t have had to wander around this forest so much—Do you really think I’m interested in your daily lives? I’m not some folk tour group… Well, I don’t want to waste any more time. Finding Freys isn’t that important anyway…” 47 walked to the door of the room and added over his shoulder, “You should only thank these two holy warriors. As for the Pit Creatures, they only know how to kill, not save.”
Miria glared at 47.
“Please wait, Mr. 47. The Sleeping Forest at night is full of unknown dangers. Perhaps it’s better if you wait until tomorrow morning before leaving the forest.” Alphens, who had remained silent until now, spoke, his expression slightly anxious.
“Yes, Mr. 47. Please stay for the night. At the very least, let us show you hospitality as hosts…” Kastor also tried to persuade him to stay.
“Is this what you call hospitality?” 47 took a sip of the pure honey and smirked. In his opinion, this so-called delicacy was even worse than Demon-Fearing Blood: “It can’t even replace lubricant…”
“Doesn’t it suit your taste?” Kastor smiled and refilled 47’s wooden cup. 47 refused the room in the giant tree and the banquet in the indoor square as well. Instead, he followed Kastor to a house built on a tree branch. Compared to the others, only this Night Elf didn’t seem quite annoying.
47 ignored the food on the table; he didn’t need it anyway. “Is this your home? Do you live here alone? Or do all elves live alone?” 47 examined the furnishings in the room. It truly lacked the atmosphere of a home, not even compared to the Stone of the Future.
Thinking of the Stone of the Future, 47’s dark red eyes flickered briefly, but Kastor clearly didn’t notice this detail.

“I don’t belong to this tribe. Do you remember Patrol Leader Jolys? He was my leader. We both belong to the Zhalidan tribe. This place is just a temporary settlement for our tribe members within the Uther tribe…”
“So even the Night Elves aren’t completely united… But you don’t need to tell me this. I’m an evil half-Purgatory creature, remember?” Forty-Seven raised a finger, and a flame ignited at its tip as it swayed.
“That’s nothing. We can tell who’s our friend and who’s our enemy!” Castor laughed again. In the Sleeping Forest, this once calm and proud Night Elf now seemed a bit mischievous. He must be very young. “But the Night Elves are united. The tribes are like brothers and sisters—there’s no doubt about that.”
Forty-Seven didn’t bother to pay him attention. He was using the flame on his finger to burn those firefly-like creatures flying in the air. Right now, Forty-Seven felt uneasy if he didn’t take some lives from time to time.
Just as Castor was about to speak up and stop Forty-Seven’s lifeless disregard, a gray owl flapped its wings and landed on the window frame.
“Hm? Whose owl is this…” Castor stood up to go over, but the owl suddenly flew inside, transformed mid-air, and became a Night Elf standing on the ground.
Castor immediately bowed. It was Uther.
“Mr. Forty-Seven, are you satisfied with the food we prepared for you?” Uther motioned for Castor to go outside and keep watch, then turned to Forty-Seven alone.
“Terrible. I regret staying…” Forty-Seven told the truth.
“Hehe, you’re a very interesting construct… Though I’m curious about what kind of person your master is, that question would clearly be impolite.” Uther sat down and poured himself a cup of honey.
This was the second person since returning from the bloody battle to discover his true identity.