NOVEL NEXT Chapter 95
Chapter 95: Elves and Dwarves (2)
First things first, I sent the messengers of the two races off to their lodges, telling them to come back tomorrow.
Honestly, involving a hero in the disputes between races is a bit of a stretch.
From what I’m picking up, it seems they want to use our hero, who’s been busy making a name for himself by slaughtering strong monsters, to side with one side. But hey, the hero wasn’t created for that purpose! Sure, his strength is legit, and he could probably smack around some elves or dwarves just like those monsters.
But I really don’t want that to happen!
Anyway, whether the elves and dwarves are squabbling or declaring war… as long as they don’t go far enough to try to exterminate each other or massacre non-fighters, I don’t see a need to get angry. But if they start trying to use the hero? That’s a whole different kettle of fish.
Let’s see, first we should have a chat with Yggdrasil and Sagarmatha. I’m curious if they’re aware of the situation.
If they purposefully kept it from me… I might just get a little peeved.
“Yggdrasil, Sagarmatha. Are you two free for a moment?”
“Yes, Mother. What’s up?”
“I’m feeling sleepy… can we keep this short?”
The two sound pretty chill. Do they not know what’s going on, or are they just playing dumb?
Well, either way, the truth will come out soon enough.
“There’s a problem brewing between the elves and dwarves. Do you know anything about it?”
“Our kids? Well, there’s been some noise lately, but I’m not really sure what’s going on.”
“The dwarves… oh, those little ant-like creatures digging around the mountains near me. I told them to stay away, so I’ve been ignoring them.”
Hmm. So it looks like they both have no clue.
But Sagarmatha, the dwarves have been deifying you as a holy mountain, yet you treat them like ants…
Then again, when I first met them, I did mention I might just wipe them out if they started digging too much. Not exactly weird after all.
The dwarves seem pretty pitiful though, revering Sagarmatha while she’s just giving them the cold shoulder.
“You know, other peaks around here have also been wrapped up and named after me. No idea why they’re doing that. Watching them dig into the ground was kind of fun, though.”
Sagarmatha sounds like she’s been spying on her little dwarven ants!
Hmm… I think we should keep this secret from the dwarves. If they found out the holy mountain they worship sees them as mere ants, they’d be crushed.
Anyway, since Sagarmatha has no interest in the dwarves, she’s probably not involved in this scenario.
So what about Yggdrasil?
“Did our kids cause some kind of trouble?”
“Well… it seems like they’re poised to throw down with the dwarves.”
“What?! Our kids?!”
Oh, looks like Yggdrasil is just as clueless.
“Why so sudden? The kids have been a bit loud lately, but war?! What’s going on?!”
“Good question.”
If I tell Yggdrasil that the whole fight started over a branch, they’d probably lose it.
Hmm… What should I do? It appears Yggdrasil and Sagarmatha were totally in the dark about this.
“Mom, you’re not going to fly off the handle like last time, right?”
“Last time?”
“Yeah, when you confiscated our scales and turned all the kids into spirits.”
Ah, the Dragon’s Demise day…
“Well, if you two were involved, I might’ve gotten a little cranky.”
“But we didn’t even know! Those kids are fighting on their own! And Sagarmatha doesn’t even recognize them as her kids!”
“True, but that stings a bit.”
Let’s just ignore Sagarmatha for now.
“I’m not saying war is always bad, since it can be part of development.”
“Then can’t we just let them duke it out?”
Ignoring Sagarmatha again.
“Seriously, why do they suddenly want to go to war?”
“I heard the dwarves wanted to borrow one of your branches, Yggdrasil.”
“My branch? Why?”
“They thought the best wood would be a grand gesture to the elves when gifting them jewels.”
“The best wood… so they want my branch?”
“Exactly.”
Well, if we’re talking about the best wood, the World Tree Yggdrasil is the no-brainer choice here!
The dwarves must have thought the same and decided to ask for one of Yggdrasil’s branches.
However, what they didn’t account for is that the elves see cutting a tree as something akin to breaking their own bodies.
Well, it makes sense since the elves can communicate with the trees—of course they’d think that way.
But… is that really okay?
Trees are a major resource nowadays, and the elves can’t seem to utilize them at all.
From fruits and vegetables to timber for building, even the papyrus for writing—they’re missing out on all plant-based goods, making them practically look like cavemen!
At this rate, while other races are busy developing, the elves will be left in the past. Ugh…
Should I step in somehow to help the elves? But how do I do that?
Take away their ability to talk to plants? That doesn’t sound right either.
Mmm, this isn’t easy. Not easy at all.
“My branch isn’t a big deal. Why are they fighting over it… They’re my kids, but I just can’t wrap my head around it.”
“Isn’t it because they’ve come to identify with the trees since they can communicate with them?”
“Even if they identify with it, a branch that keeps growing is about as different as hair on a person. I don’t understand their reasoning.”
Hair… hmm… Maybe it’s somewhat similar? Not too sure since I’m not a tree.
Well, being the tree Yggdrasil makes sense for her to think that way.
“I could give them a branch or two without a problem, so why are those kids being so picky?”
“Good question.”
Maybe it’s about time I consider a total mental revamp for the elves.
It’s great that they cherish and communicate with trees, but they’re going overboard.
“If I get the chance, I should probably dull their plant communication skills a bit. Their lack of moderation is what gets them into trouble.”
“Ahaha…”
Yggdrasil just awkwardly chuckled.
“Anyway, since I know you both played no part in the war, I’ll handle the rest.”
“Mom, please be gentle!”
“Can’t we just let them go to war?”
Keep ignoring Sagarmatha.
Wait a minute.
Should I really just let them fight?
Instead, how about trying a more gentle approach—like a friendly competition without the actual fighting?
If I set the rules to just aiming to subdue without killing, it could be better than a full-out war. This way, the damage would be less, and it might create a healthy competitive relationship.
Yep, it’s better to let some steam off gradually instead of an outright ban.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
“So, here’s the deal: I’m prohibiting war, so bring in the representatives of both sides.”
I met up with the messengers from both races, along with the hero, to share my decision.
“Prohibit the war? By what authority do you…”
“What?”
“Ah, never mind…”
The elf messenger quickly backed off when I shot him a glare. He clearly doesn’t want to get his limbs shattered again.
“If the war is necessary, I won’t shy away. However, if it’s going to be pointless, then not going to war is the best choice. Relay this to the Dwarven King!”
Hmm. The dwarves seem to take this well; maybe it’s their tendency to value efficiency.
“Let the elves know too. War is forbidden. If you ignore me and challenge the dwarves, you’ll regret it.”
The elf messenger still looked unhappy, almost like he was saying, ‘What makes you think you can do that?’
Seriously, why have they become so haughty? Elves who used to be primitive carnivores in the woods, how did they morph into this?
Is it due to their lifespan? Is a long life making them look down on others?
Who cares if they live about a thousand years at most!
“Understood. I’ll convey the message. It wouldn’t be wise for us elves to turn the hero and his companions into enemies.”
These arrogant creatures seem to have forgotten who taught them spirit magic. Of course, they didn’t mention anything about the “Dragon’s Priest” back then!!
Well, it’s been a few hundred years since that incident. If any elves do remember, they’d be the ancient ones on their deathbeds.
Right, off they go—the elf messenger and the dwarven messenger.
“Both the elves and dwarves are truly troublesome folks.”
“Indeed.”
The hero and I let out a sigh as we watched the two messengers walk away.
A silent beast observing us could only tilt its head, puzzled.