53. Elven Court, Manifest Destiny

Several hours ago.

To the west of Eldorun.

Within a woodland brimming with surging magical power.

Peerless, pure white spires towered into the sky. Paths paved with snow-white bricks wound through the forest, leading into secluded, breathtaking trails. Clear, sacred water sprayed from fountains, reflecting the seven-color brilliance of the sun.

The Elven Court.

At the center of the continent, the regime jointly recognized and supported by every elven city, village, and family!

Within a magnificent palace perfectly integrated with the surrounding natural environment.

In a gorgeous and spacious hall, seven elven court mages sat in their respective chairs, savoring fresh fruit tea and conversing freely about the cosmos.

Every single one of these court mages was a legendary mage who had surpassed the ninth circle!

And those present in this hall were merely a small fraction of the 42 legendary mages and 60 legends among the entire elven race.

Such was the foundation of the elven race, the foundation of the strongest kingdom on the continent!

Although these dozens of legends belonged to different elven families and served their respective masters, it was still a terrifying force.

At this moment, amidst a creaking sound, the wooden door of the hall was pushed open.

A gorgeously dressed, slightly elderly elven court mage walked in.

"Aramil Goldpetal, you've finally emerged from your wretched mage tower. It must have been over a hundred years."

A moon elf mage playing a harp smiled as he looked at the sun elf mage who had just entered the hall.

The sun elf mage, called Aramil, wore a noticeably colder and sterner expression. He shrugged with considerable disdain:

"Your Highness Xymor, watch your tongue."

"It has merely been a century. In the pursuit of the great art of magic by the elven race, this is but a fleeting moment."

Aramil spoke with a hint of exaggeration, yet well within reason.

Even the most ordinary elven commoner possessed a lifespan exceeding 700 years.

As for these elven legendary mages, before departing for the Elven Divine Realm, they would spend approximately two millennia in this mortal material world.

Moreover, unlike lowly humans devoid of divine protection, upon an elven death, the soul retained its memories and entered Arvandor, the elven divine realm, to revel—the death of the flesh was merely the beginning of another journey of life for an elf!

"During the century or so that I spent exploring the art of magic within my lofty tower, have there been any noteworthy events?"

Aramil swept his gaze around the room and asked solemnly.

The few elven legendary mages looked at one another.

"It seems nothing particularly noteworthy has occurred."

"The elven kingdom remains as peaceful as ever, with no enemies daring to set foot upon elven soil..."

"The Elven Court remains the ruler of all civilized races on this continent, the supreme beacon of civilization."

"We govern the four civilized races of elves, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings, keeping dozens of barbaric races such as goblins, orcs, kobolds, and gnolls at bay, preventing them from tainting this civilized land at the center of the continent."

"Giants and dragons no longer command their former glory; they either hide in the wild corners of the continent or have fled to other lands."

"Speaking of races," an elven mage seemed to recall something, "what do you all think of this newborn race called humans?"

"Humans?" Another sun elf mage spoke as if hearing a rather unfamiliar term.

"Is it that new race that suddenly appeared less than a millennium ago?"

"Yes, that's the one!"

"I remember a few years ago, some humans established a large settlement in a small river valley on the eastern side of the continent."

"Speaking of humans..." Xymor, the moon elf mage, suddenly grew interested. A cunning smile appeared on his face as he said in a teasing tone:

"Aramil, during the time you were in seclusion, that newborn race called humans actually accomplished a major feat!"

"What major feat?" Aramil maintained his stern expression, merely arching an eyebrow.

Naturally, he did not believe that a newborn, lowly race like humans could ever accomplish anything worthy of the Elven Court's attention.

"Not long after you went into seclusion, those human mages who learned magic actually built a floating city and ascended into the high heavens!"

Aramil frowned:

"What? A permanently airborne floating city? Humans are capable of such a feat?"

In his impression, only a legendary ritual magic could possibly cleave mountains, invert peaks, and cause a floating city to rise into the sky.

"Of course, it wasn't done by a single human. Those human mages gathered the strength of one to two thousand individuals, spending many years and vast quantities of precious materials to complete it," said Xymor the moon elf mage.

"No, wait, that's not what I'm asking," Aramil said.

"I mean, the human race actually knows arcane magic?"

"I taught it to them," Xymor replied with considerable pride.

"That must have been about 300 years ago? Or 500? I don't quite remember."

"At the time, my attendants and I were traveling in the east and encountered those humans who had just built their earliest city-states, so I casually taught them magic."

Yes, Xymor Moonwhisper was that elven royalty who had imparted magic to humans centuries ago.

"What, Xymor? Why on earth would you teach humans such things?" Aramil's tone suddenly turned harsh.

"Don't you think it's fascinating to watch those hairless monkeys learn magic from scratch?"

Xymor recalled the past events and smiled.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Xymor?"

Aramil rebuked him angrily:

"Do you think teaching magic to those inferior races is some kind of amusement?"

"You are committing the grave sin of blaspheming the elven deities!"

As a typical sun elf, Aramil despised all non-elven races.

In his mind, the world was structured as a perfect pyramid of racial hierarchy—

At the very summit were the sun elves, followed by the moon elves—these two elven subspecies collectively known as the "high elves."

The second tier comprised wood elves, wild elves, aquatic elves, avariel, dark elves (future drow), and other minority elven lineages.

The third tier consisted of civilized races such as dwarves, halflings, and gnomes.

—Though somewhat lowly, they were barely tolerated on the grounds that dwarves could forge weapons for them and halflings could herd livestock for them.

There always had to be lowly races assigned to menial tasks that elves were unwilling to perform.

Below these three tiers, goblins, orcs, kobolds, humans, and the like all belonged to the lowest dregs, considered too filthy even to mention by name.

Aramil, like other sun elves, firmly believed:

This pyramid of civilization was a part of the cosmic order.

It was the divine mandate bestowed by the elven gods upon the elven race to rule over all beings!

This was precisely why he was so furious upon learning that Xymor had taught magic to humans.

"By teaching arcane magic to those barbaric races, you are breaking the rules and allowing those lowly beings to touch things they should never have touched."

"You moon elves are always so lax, looking down upon the teachings of the gods and ignoring our traditions!"

Aramil accused sternly.

Xymor retorted with considerable dissatisfaction:

"Is it really that serious?"

"You sun elves are simply too conservative, unable to tolerate even the slightest new thing."

"You drag divine authority and elven tradition into every trivial matter."

"If I had truly committed the sin of blaspheming the elven deities, the priests would have already come to make trouble for me."

Before Aramil could retort, another moon elf mage curiously asked:

"By the way, Your Highness Xymor, why did those humans build a floating city?"

"It seems those humans who learned magic felt they were no longer the same as the humans who couldn't use magic—that they were no longer the same species—so they collectively fled into the sky to isolate themselves from the surface commoners," Xymor recounted what he knew.

"Oh, I've heard related rumors as well," said another elven mage, Sheila. "Those aristocratic mages high in the skies even organized hunting events a dozen years ago, slaughtering a number of commoners who lacked magic."

"Hmph. Exactly what one expects from those uncivilized, inferior races," Aramil sneered coldly.

"No matter, those human mages are destined to die anyway."

With that, Aramil turned back to Xymor the moon elf, saying sternly:

"Xymor, no matter how you justify your crime, you have indeed committed a transgression against the teachings of the gods!"

"To atone for your error and prevent the future wrath of the divine, I shall personally journey to the eastern lands of the humans."

"What do you intend to do?" Xymor asked, slightly bewildered.

Aramil pushed open the door and strode out, his tone firm and unquestionable:

"Naturally, to annihilate all human mages and sever the magical heritage of humankind!"