Chapter 19: The Subversive Elf

I turned around and was immediately stunned. I believed everyone on the deck was also shocked.

The man speaking stood on the ship’s railing. He wore a suit of fiery red leather armor, two short blades hanging at his waist, and a black cape behind his back that fluttered wildly in the river wind. He was tall and power fully built, with skin so fine and fair. His left eye was covered by a black eyepatch, and a rather large knife scar lay beneath his right eye, which was as green as an emerald. The scar quivered along with his expressions, radiating a bold and fierce aura. His fiery red long hair was tied near the roots with a red band and flew loose behind his head, but it could not hide his two slender, pointed ears.

I said two slender, pointed ears — do you get it? This was clearly a pure-blooded Elf male. But from his outfit, I could not see even a trace of the noble and elegant Elf tradition. And he was definitely the most robust Elf and the most handsome one-eyed man I had ever seen.

Like most human sovereign states, Delanmaya only recognized humans as having citizenship. Races like Elves, Dwarves, and half-orcs were not recognized in terms of status here. Of course, these races, whether proud or rough, did not really care about human recognition. Most of them had their own territories, and they did not welcome uninvited visits from other races either. Even so, because of my dear family tavern, I often got to see races other than humans. Elves, being natural magic users and master archers, were often trustworthy companions in an adventuring party. And being proud by nature, they often crossed the continent alone, searching for “the meaning of life.” “Searching for the meaning of life” — what a boring waste of time. Of course, if I also had a lifespan of nearly two thousand years, I might suddenly get the urge to do such boring things to pass the time.

The one before me was clearly a young Elf who had just come of age. He leaped into the air, did a clean forward roll, and landed lightly on the deck. The whole movement was nimble, crisp, and full of explosive power, giving me the illusion of facing a sturdy red leopard.

“I just found out that in the next few days, only your boat is setting sail. Let me ride along. I want to go to the other side. Don’t worry, I can pay extra, and I can even work as a sailor on your ship.” He spoke the common language of the continent fluently, with the Elves’ unique rolled accent, and casually pulled out a money bag full of coins and tossed it to Hugh.

“This money is more than ten times the fare. Welcome aboard, honored guest. If you need anything, I’ll have someone carry your luggage up.” Hugh immediately put on the face of a seasoned merchant. His face was full of the kind of smile you’d see on a man with an occupational habit. He bowed and scraped as he invited the one-eyed Elf into the cabin, gripping the money bag tightly in his hand, afraid of letting even a single copper coin slip out.

And so, because of the greed of the young merchant-group leader, who was also our captain, we gained a special travel companion.

The next morning, we set sail and left Kunlan. I stood at the stern, watching the citizens of the city buying and selling at the various markets, continuing their plain and simple lives. The whole city was brimming with a lively atmosphere, without the slightest feeling of urgency about war. I had no doubt at all about my friend Fred’s prediction: within ten days, the Winston forces would completely control the entire region north of the river, and by then the city of Kunlan would be reduced to ruins. I could not help but feel a pang of sadness in my heart.

It was strange. We could talk about the deaths of strangers and the fall of strange cities without being moved at all, yet it was only when familiar scenes were destroyed before our eyes that we felt pain and grief.

Luckily, I was never some noble, great figure who worried about the country and the people. I soon pulled myself out of that sad mood. Yes, I was just a tiny, insignificant nobody. Being able to survive in this chaotic world was already the greatest luck. How could I possibly have any more strength to protect others?

Fred was also standing nearby, lost in thought. What was he thinking about?

…

Setting out from the dock of Kunlan and following the Morning Light River east, it took five days to reach the nearest small port on the south bank, Kampnavia, which was our destination. There, this ragtag group of scattered soldiers might be able to continue our military careers.

Among everyone on the ship, the Elf was the one most worth mentioning. His name was Zobul Yisinbulawiniyal Delakus… Elven names had to combine the father’s name, the mother’s name, the paternal clan’s name, the maternal clan’s name, the guardian god’s name, the guardian star’s name, and so on. That was not a good habit. I really suspected that when Elf mothers called their kids home for dinner, they would have to stand at the door and shout for a whole morning before anyone knew who was being called. Fortunately, we managed to find out his title within his clan: Red Flame. Otherwise, we really would not have known what to call him. This guy was definitely an odd one out among the Elves. His personality was cheerful and unrestrained. He spent every day hanging out with the sailors, loving to gulp down their cheap liquor while singing fun songs with them, like “The baker’s girl is plump and white, her round butt sways left and right.” Sometimes, while singing, he would hug a sailor and dance a sea-breeze dance with them. Sometimes, when the mood hit him, he would strip off his shirt, oil up his body, and wrestle with the sailors. Within a few days, he had become the most popular passenger among the sailors. What was most unexpected was that he often competed with the sailors in arm wrestling — and he never lost. You had to know, Elves had never been a race known for their strength. Even a very healthy adult male Elf was only about as strong as an ordinary person. For this Elf to be stronger than the burly sailors who were exposed to wind and sun all year round — it was enough to make the gem merchants’ eyes pop out in disbelief.

“Hey, which of you soldiers is the strongest? Come compete with me. I bet ten gold coins.” This time, he had just won the wrestling match and came swaggering over bare-chested to provoke us. Only then did I see clearly that his body was covered with scars everywhere — knife wounds, sword wounds, and also the bite marks and claw marks of wild beasts.

“What, no one? You’re soldiers! Don’t be so pathetic. No wonder you lose battles all day.” He shook his wine bottle and shouted at us. The group of rough sailors behind him whooped and hollered, practically becoming his followers.

His provocation stirred up our sense of honor as soldiers. The humiliation we had suffered on the battlefield suddenly burst out. We all said we were willing to accept the challenge, and even Fred, who usually did not like to invite trouble, felt the urge to vent this anger. After careful consideration, we thought Carlson might be the stronger one, but no matter what, he refused to crawl out of his comfortable hammock. He even said that the rocking of the waves reminded him of the wonderful time he had spent in a cradle during his childhood, and that he wanted to properly enjoy this rare comfort in his bed. And so, after we showed our deep understanding by pouring a basin of cold water into the commander’s bed, we grandly presented Dakla, the big fellow who came from a stonemason background.

The sailors quickly set up a table and two chairs on the deck. Roll, Rodrick, and Riley were providing all-around service for Dakla on the side — one massaging his shoulders, one serving tea and water. Fred stood beside him, reminding him from time to time: “Don’t expect to defeat him with all your strength right off the bat. Persist. Endure. Drag it out… If that still doesn’t work, then… or else… otherwise…” Dakla’s head was about to explode from listening, and every now and then he would ask a silly question, only to draw a scolding: “Didn’t I just say it? If he does this-this, you do that-that. Not this-that, but that-this. Got it…”

Turning to look at Red Flame’s side, the sailors surrounded him like stars around the moon, also providing him with all kinds of full service. Red Flame sat to the side without a word, staring at Dakla without stopping. His single green eye revealed a startling excitement and determination.

Before long, this originally quite ordinary contest had drawn over quite a few bored passengers on the ship. These merchants had been cooped up in the narrow cabins for three days already. This hard-earned excitement was just the thing to let everyone relax. How could I possibly miss such a good opportunity?

“Place your bets, place your bets! Red corner — the mysterious foreign warrior from the distant Elf Forest, the handsome one-eyed ranger, the messenger of the free wind, the proud and mysterious fighter — Red Flame! His odds are two to three. Blue corner — the one with a body as strong as rock, who has been through the test of death on the killing battlefield, the warrior among warriors, the giant among giants, the amazing fighter — Dakla! His odds are one to two. This is your last chance. Lock in your bets. Hurry up and decide!”

As the only third-party leader, Hugh naturally became the referee of the contest. He dug out a small gong from someone’s pile of goods, stood to the side looking proper, struck the gong once to signal everyone to quiet down, then cleared his throat and said:

“Now let me announce the rules. The contest has three rounds. The first round compares right hands. The second round compares left hands. If there is still no winner, the two sides will draw lots. The side that draws the lot will choose the method for the third round. Both contestants, please prepare…”

Two muscular right arms were locked together. Judging by size, Dakla’s hand was clearly a full size bigger than the Elf’s. But it was with this very arm, which did not look all that thick, that Red Flame had defeated so many sailors.

As soon as the gong rang, Red Flame displayed his extraordinary explosive power. In an instant, he pressed Dakla’s right hand underneath, seizing a rather advantageous position. A burst of gasps rose from the crowd, and quite a few of those gasping were merchants who had put their bets on Dakla.

It was just a tiny bit more — in the instant when the back of his hand almost touched the table — Dakla finally steadied his arm. Red Flame let out roar after roar, trying to overwhelm his opponent, but his repeated efforts could never get through Dakla’s endurance. Even so, because Dakla had been in a very disadvantageous position from the start, it was not easy for him to quickly turn the situation around.

And so the contest fell into a stalemate.

Just as we were getting worried, Fred whispered to me: “No need to worry. This round is already won.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve watched this Elf compete with others. His explosive power is very good. Almost every time, he overwhelms his opponent in the very first moment. He has never held on this long like he is now.”

“But Dakla is in a very bad position right now…”

“Relax. Dakla’s way of using strength is completely different from his. Dakla is a stonemason, and he’s been through Carlson’s insane training. His strength is not in explosive power but in endurance. As long as he doesn’t lose all at once, he’s sure to win. Look, the timing is about right now. What I’m worried about is his next round…”

As if proving Fred’s words, Dakla’s arm rose up bit by bit. Red Flame’s entire right arm was bursting with bulging veins, and his originally fair and handsome white face was flushed purple-red as he roared again and again with effort. But he had missed the best chance to win, and could only helplessly watch Dakla turn the tide bit by bit. The crowd all around was affected by the two men in the center, not even daring to take a big breath. For a moment, everything around was silent.

Once he had reversed the unfavorable situation, Dakla’s forward progress could no longer be stopped. In a short while, he pressed his opponent down. Rodrick and Riley let out enthusiastic cheers and rushed over to shower Dakla with attention again. The merchants who had bet on Red Flame hung their heads one by one, filled with regret.

“The next round? What problem does the next round have?” After the celebration was done, I remembered to continue asking Fred.

“Dakla is a stonemason who carves tombstones. Normally, his left hand holds the chisel and his right hand swings the hammer, so his right hand is always stronger than his left. But that Elf uses dual blades…”

“His two hands must be very even in strength!” I suddenly realized.

Exactly as Fred had predicted — the gong for the second round had barely finished ringing when Red Flame’s left hand suddenly exploded with force, pressing Dakla’s left hand dead against the table in one go, winning with an absolute advantage. Only after he let go did someone remember to cheer loudly, and then everyone let out exclamations of admiration. Red Flame had won in such a short time that he not only tied the score but also won back all the face he had lost in the previous round. He sat on the chair with his arms crossed, his face full of smug pride. Dakla, on the other hand, looked completely dejected, unwilling no matter what to admit that he had lost so thoroughly.

Since it was now a tie, it was time to draw lots. The situation was now very obvious. If it was right hands, Dakla was almost guaranteed to win. If it was left hands, Red Flame also had no way to lose. Whoever drew the lot would naturally choose the method that favored themselves. I could only keep praying in my heart: don’t let him draw it, don’t let him draw it, don’t let him draw it…

“The one who drew the lot is Red Flame. He will now choose the method for the third round.” Just as I was muttering in my heart, Hugh had already announced the result of the draw. My heart sank halfway. It was not that I was afraid of losing face ourselves if the match was lost, but that I thought of the twenty gold coins I had bet on Dakla. If I had known earlier, I would not have bet so much.

“Can I choose a different way of competing instead?” Just when everyone thought everything was settled, the one-eyed Elf suddenly spoke.

What did he want to do?