Chapter 115: What a True Genius Is

A spar?

The Elves of the Silver Moon Race exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of emotions.

The Great Elder looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

Kalefin smiled. "Each of our sides will put forth one person for a friendly, limited-contact spar. If the Silver Moon Race wins, I'll make the decision to increase the annual trade quota to five ounces. If you lose, it will be reduced to two ounces. What do you say?"

The moment he spoke, the atmosphere in the hall grew tense.

The Great Elder's eyes flickered, but he did not answer immediately.

Kalefin smiled and added, "Of course, there's no need for old folks like us to get involved. It's better to let the younger generation have a friendly match."

He turned his head to look at Daniels beside him. "This is my deputy, Daniels. He is one hundred fifty-three years old this year. We'll have him represent our delegation in this match."