Round 34: The Priest Tribe

“Don’t worry, Agus’s reconnaissance drones can never reach this place!” Alphens said as he spread out a blanket made of some unknown animal fur on the ground for everyone to sit on. He then instructed another elf to go back to the boat and retrieve the package containing food. As a messenger, there was none more diligent and capable than her.
“Please, don’t mention it, respected Priest Alphens!” Anton replied gratefully as he sat down on the blanket. This old man actually emitted sacred energy—his chest armor glowed with a soft, bright light that wasn’t harsh—and he continued reading his little book by that light. Forty-Seven suddenly became extremely interested in the booklet.
“Are you a priest?” Miria didn’t sit down because Forty-Seven was sitting on the blanket trying to peek at Anton’s book. She followed Alphens to the river to fetch water and asked questions casually. But she was indeed puzzled as to why a priest would work as a boatman. “I thought priests were people who stood on high platforms, presiding over various solemn ceremonies. I mean, you’re so kind and approachable!”
“Night elves only differ in roles; there’s no strict hierarchy like among humans,” Alphens replied with a smile, failing to detect any sarcasm in her words.
Miria took the cup of clean water handed to her by Alphens. The cool river water soothed her throat wonderfully, as if her whole body had been submerged in crystal-clear spring water.
“In my impression, night elves are a proud race. You’ve really changed my view quite a bit!”
“Please keep your opinion. Pride and kindness aren’t contradictory, are they?”
By the time the two returned with their water bottles, the blanket was already filled with various berries and bread made from some forest fruit. Since Forty-Seven couldn’t see Anton’s book, he had gone under a tree to observe unknown little insects crawling on the ground. These terrifying creatures, capable of bringing endless destruction and despair, sometimes behaved like children.
“Thanks to Forty-Seven. But that guy probably doesn’t need to eat much, so let’s do it for him!” Anton said as he stuffed an entire fruit into his mouth without hesitation. Miria was stunned by this, while a shadow appeared between Alphens’ brows.
Kastor and the others returned soon. After a short rest, they set off again. The forest, now completely submerged in darkness, had truly become the Sleeping Forest. Occasional howls of wild beasts reminded people that this place was still full of life.
By the time Anton gently woke Miria, who was asleep in the boat, it was already daylight. One of the twin suns hung in the sky, but its heat didn’t seem as intense as it appeared. Wait—why could we see the sun directly? Had we already left the Sleeping Forest?

Miriya sat up, stunned by the sight before her—a vast lake surrounded by forests, with a city standing right in its center. Rivers and streams converged here, and endless canoes sailed across the lake’s surface. The shimmering water reflected the light of two suns, as if thousands of lamps had been lit on it. The city had no walls; instead, there were bustling docks and markets along the shore. The closer one got to the city’s center, the taller and more magnificent the buildings became. Yet it seemed none of the buildings were made of stone or steel—the city itself resembled a green plant. It was hard to imagine that entirely wooden structures could create such a grand city. Every Night Elf Miriya saw wore a bright smile, completely shattering the image of gloom and darkness that had preceded it. This city was like a utopia free from war and suffering—a true miracle in itself!

Even among Night Elves, the gentle and serene beauty of the Uther tribe differed greatly from the vibrant beauty of the Ildrith tribe. Miriya forgot about stepping onto the dock, still immersed in the shock of these changes.

“The Night Elves may indeed belong to the darkness, but that doesn’t mean we can’t live in the light—come on, Miss Miriya!” Alphens stepped forward, took Miriya’s hand, and helped her onto the shore.

“I hope to meet High Priestess Ildrith right away…” Anton glanced around at 47. “If the High Priestess has the time, of course!”

“That’s possible. I’ll arrange it for you. Would Miss Miriya and Mr. 47 like to go together now?” Alphens suggested calmly, her reaction surprising Anton.

Miriya glared at 47. Clearly, if he went, she would go; if he didn’t, she would stay.

47 said nothing. He ran over and poked a passing tree ogre, causing it to tremble with itching, its branches swaying as it let out a rumbling sound.

Alphens waved her hand, and two elf servants followed her.

“Then, please follow me,” Alphens said with a slight nod to Anton before turning toward the center of the city.

Watching Alphens, Anton, and Miriya leave, 47 stopped teasing the tree ogre. A group of Night Elf children ran over, chattering in Elvish around 47, seemingly treating him as their new playmate aside from the tree ogre.

47 lowered his head, red light glowing only around his eyes, while the center remained pitch black—resembling the two suns during a solar eclipse. This eerie expression scared the little elves into laughing and running away. It seemed these kids really didn’t know what truly deserved their fear.

“Mr. 47, please come this way. We’ve prepared a place for you to rest…” one of the elf servants suggested.

“Oh, I’d really like to play a bit more if possible… these interesting little guys…” 47’s head turned halfway, causing the children behind him to scatter in panic.

To use others or be used by others, it’s best first to make them think you’re a bit foolish.
“Oh, thank goodness, Mr. Forty-Seven!” Freth rushed over as soon as he saw Forty-Seven from afar.
“What are you grateful for? That I’m still alive, or that your crimes can be washed away?”
“Look what you say!” Freth’s face immediately turned as bitter as a balsam pear. “The innkeeper arranged your lodging; I’m here to pick you up! Would you two mind if I acted as Forty-Seven’s guide?”
The two elf servants exchanged a glance, bowed, and left.
Forty-Seven and Freth walked side by side through the city streets. Aside from the fact that most pedestrians were night elves with pointed ears, it wasn’t much different from other human cities. However, the elves paid little attention to Forty-Seven and Freth, the outsiders, giving the impression of a very open city.
“I cleared my name as soon as I arrived at the Priest Tribe. Night elves aren’t fools…” Freth looked like he might cry. Ever since Forty-Seven first met him, this northern merchant had hardly smiled at all. “But they still won’t let me go, nor do they explain why they’re treating me like a prisoner. It’s not even because of war— they seized all my goods! Good heavens!”
“But it seems you’re quite free…”
“Does one have to be locked in a cage to be considered a prisoner? Without a night elf’s guidance, who could possibly get out of this Sleeping Forest on their own?” Freth stopped in front of a low building, its simple wooden attic covered in green vines. “We’re here. Be careful of the innkeeper here—he’s… Hey! Innkeeper Telis, what a nice day!”
A female night elf stood in front of the inn, her face covered in a layer of morning dew, fresh yet cold.
“Mr. Freth, I remember telling you it’s best to let me know before leaving…”
“Then why not just lock him up in a cage…” Forty-Seven stepped forward, looking down at the short elf. “Or did you prepare a bigger one for me?”
Telis looked up at the giant before her, her face expressionless, seemingly unimpressed. “Although you’re a noble guest of High Priest Eldrith, if you keep leaving without saying goodbye like Mr. Freth, I can’t guarantee your breakfast will always be hot!”
With that, the elf turned and left. Forty-Seven glanced back at Freth, who furrowed his brows and shrugged. “She’s a very serious and wordy night elf.”
Forty-Seven scratched the back of his head, making a cracking sound. “Good thing I don’t really need a hot breakfast.”