Chapter 446 Welcome To The North (1/2)
Starfall Year 834, the 1st of February, the Land of the Far South.
The gathered snow over the lofty peaks of the West Mountains region had turned into countless flowing rivers, some of them flowing east and vanishing without a trace after entering the Central Black Forest. Those streaming souths would enter the Far South, flowing past the many forest and plains before assembling in the holy land of the elves—the Eternal Lake of a Thousand Islands.
The Eternal Lake itself was large enough to be declared a mainland sea. Within it were hundreds and thousands of islands, innumerable and sprinkled like stars over that azure lake surface.
The land surrounding the Eternal Lake was the territory of the elves. Innumerable elven tribe cities were spread across the lakeside and the river banks, but only the most influential and prosperous elven factions could receive an island within the lake as their core citadel.
Because there was where the Lifetrees were.
The Lifetree only grows on the islands within the Eternal Lake. Any elven factions without Lifetree would never be able to stand out.
And at the very center of the lake where the largest island was stood an unparalleled tree that grew up to the skies, its leaves and branches reaching the cloud layers. The colossal body of this mother Lifetree was even wider than a city, and in turn was where the Elven Court lived, breathing alongside the giant tree.
Under the shade of the giant tree on the central island was a bald hill. There, a young elf was carrying the severed head of a huge beast, walking through a dirt path towards the isolated wooden hut on the summit.
Once the entrance opened, the simple but unexpectedly refreshing interior designs of the hut could be seen. A closer look would reveal that it was actually naturally grown from several trees—by the eaves and windowsills, one could spy green tree sprouts that were slowly growing, with some mushrooms opening their spore canopy in a corner.
The young elf carried the head of his quarry to the center of the hut, where an elderly green-haired elf was sitting and meditating. He neither became surprised by the young elf's arrival nor did he opened his eyes, and merely spoke nonchalantly.
”Ira, you're here.”
The elf named Ira had eyes resembling emeralds and light-blue shoulder-length hair, tied into a shape that allows ease of movement. His features, were handsome like most elves, although his expression and speech had none of the tranquility typical of elves, instead carrying a rare passion and pride.
”Grand Elder! Look, my quarry!” As Ira said, he placed the huge head in front of the older person. After magic processing, the head was not pungent with blood even as it maintained its ferocious air before death.
The Grand Elder who sat on the floor opened his eyes slightly and nodded. ”Hunting a Gold-pinnacle earth-shaker dragon by yourself? Not bad.”
”Isn't that right! I think I'm great too!” Ira boasted with no hint of humility, and was even trying to flex his muscles, but since elves were born with lithe physicality he had to give up regretfully.
Nonetheless, the blue-haired elf was most assuredly proud of the quarry he toiled for.
”Master Madalla, what's my result in this assessment?”
”Argh, I've said that it's fine.”
Sighing lightly over his pupil's eccentric behavior, the Grand Elder could not maintain his meditation and simply opened his eyes, his metallic silver eyes studying Ira and the behemoth's head on the floor before him. Elder Madalla then nodded, and spoke in a rather pleased tone.
”You've reached Gold-pinnacle too… That's considered outstanding for your age—it probably could get an excellent appraisal.”
The blue-haired elf did not say a thing, but it was clear from his smiling face that he was very gleeful. After basking in his glory for a while, Ira composed himself.
”Then, Master… how do I compare back in your age?” He asked, as if testing the waters. His jovial demeanor also became very serious, the vibrancy he showed just moments ago no longer present—it was clear that he really wanted the answer.
”Me back in my age?”
The Grand Elder Madalla sighed again. He certainly could see Ira's seriousness, and so thought about it for a moment before speaking slowly.
”Gallandro, the strongest candidate for the next Priest of the Holy Tree in the Elven Court. You know him, of course.” The elderly elf said, answering the question with a question instead.
Still, Ira nodded solemnly in return. The young elf naturally knew the strongest individual amongst the younger generation of the Elven Court, Gallandro Galanoud. On a certain perspective and due to certain factors in his own childhood, Ira was even an admirer of the Gallandro's.
”Gallandro's ability at present is almost the same as my own back then, but he possesses more talent than I do.”
The Grand Elder sat right in the center of the wooden hall, and spoke to his pupil with a tranquil tone.
”He left the Eternal Lake early, heading out to train at regions infested with berserk dragons. At the peak of the dragons' rampage, he had charged out alone against a swarm killing hundreds of them with his single bow, stunning even the humans who were giving him support, later gaining an understanding to ascend. Now, though he's also Gold-pinnacle, he has touched the edge of Supreme. If you spar with him, you would hold out for some time without losing, but when it comes to life and death…”
After pausing for a moment, the Grand Elder said softly, ”You'll die in five seconds.”
With those words, Ira, who had a hint of a smile on his face, wrinkled his brow.
”Master, Gallandro has the blood of royals and the guidance of a Legendary champion, so it isn't unexpected that he would be stronger than me. That being said, I'm your student, and we're of the same age and level—how could he kill me in five seconds?”
In that very moment, the blue-haired elf's body was streaming with a powerful presence, the mana elements cascading around him in the air according to his will. They were soon condensed into natural runes, as if to form a dazzling bow of stars.
”My abilities,” Ira said, a little disgruntled, ”made it hard for me to find a worthy opponent amongst the elven tribes around me. That's why I hunt those behemoths.”
”And that's just the elven race,” the Grand Elder darted a glance at his student before shaking his head. ”Listen, Ira. Staying in the forest would never let you witness the sky above the leaves. Your vision is too narrow, and you should know very well that even an existence like Gallandro who could slay hundreds of berserker dragons in his youth would be no more than second-rate on the Mycroft Continent.”
Ira nullified the runes condensed from his mana, scratching his head in surprise.
”His Highness Gallandro,” he said in disbelief. ”Able to kill me in five seconds, capable of killing hundreds of berserk dragons in a single battle, would be second-rate?”
Although he was disgruntled before, Ira knew that his teacher would not lie to him.
As the Grand Elder of the elves, old Madalla was known for his precise insight. If he said that Gallandro could kill him in five seconds, he was most assuredly right.
And so, the youth, who thought himself a genius but was dealt a heavy blow instead, asked begrudgingly, ”Then, ultimately what is considered top-rate? Don't tell me that thou isn't considered top-rate either?”
The old elf made a small smile; he was waiting for Ira to ask that question.
”Me? Of course not—I'm second-rate in this world too… But I'll leave the elves aside and talk about the champions of other races and factions.”
The Grand Elder shifted his sitting posture a little, straightening his back and leveling his gaze with his student.
”Hrómundr Gripsson, a holy swordsman from the West Mountains, owner of the Silver Oak Holy Sword Mystletainn. While he is of the same tier and age as you, he had already wiped out a dozen cults of varying sizes, slaying the incarnations of at least ten descended demons in the process. He is one of the greats.”
”Emperor of the Northern Empire—Israel Diamond. In his youth, he rode alone and crashed through the orcs' stone rhino heavy cavalry, cutting through thousands in each campaign and charged into the orc palace from a thousand miles away. Besieged by their grand army, he cut through three great orc generals before returning safely. He is one of the greats.”
”Barbarossa, Fourth Seat of the Skypiercing White Tower in the Eastern Plains, Master of the Elements. In his youth, he pulled up an entire rock formation from beneath the waves, creating a new artificial island in the eastern sea that he refurbished as his own mage tower. The three major merfolk tribes next to the sea wanted to stop him; they ended up dyeing a vast portion of the ocean around the tower blood-red and only one tribe surviving. He is one of the greats.”
”They are all now Legendary champions, leaders in various powerful faction across the world. They are greats of this world and its last generation.”
”Ira Ellis. You are decent amongst the elves, almost considered a genius—but to this world, you would only reach so far,” the Grand Elder told his student peacefully.