Sylvester looked at the elven man with care as the man appeared not a day older than eighteen. Heck, the man looked younger than him. But then again, Avanss was a complete, and according to his ancestry, royal-blooded elf. Years pass differently for elves, likely.
"Prince of Elves?" Sylvester muttered. "How old are you?"
Avanss seemed astonished by Sylvester's nonchalant reaction. Throughout the years, whenever someone had seen him, they had appeared shocked. Even the dwarves were taken aback by his presence.
"May I know what year of Solis this is?"
"The twenty-fifth year of the second century," Sylvester replied.
"Then I'm one hundred and sixty-nine years old. But you do not seem surprised by my status, friend," Avanss said in a surprised tone. "Most people at least show wide eyes."
"Why? Do you feel disappointed?" Sylvester asked jokingly, then sat down beside the elf on a chair. Then, face to face, he spoke directly. "How did you know I'm a half-elf? Can all elves detect such things?"
"Not all, but most can. We live in nature and are connected with it. To us, the aura and presence of an elf are much different from any other species. But you, if I wasn't aware of the natural human aura, I would have thought you were a pure-blooded complete elf—elven blood is strong in you, my nameless friend."
'I have more elven blood? Well, my father is indeed the King,' Sylvester thought, wondering what to do with the man. Yes, he was a valuable pawn that he could utilize, but he felt conflicted about how to keep him bound to himself.
He had finally found a connection to the core group of elves. He finally had someone he could use to convey his words to the King and perhaps bring about peace. But was Avanss trustworthy? Would he reveal that he is half-elf to everyone?
However, one question surely arose. "If you are the elven King's brother, then why hasn't he come looking for you? Are you not close as a family? Does he not care about your well-being?"
Avanss chuckled suddenly. "Quite interested in my life, aren't you? Well, let's just say he has no idea what happened to me, and since we elves perceive time differently due to our long lifespan, enough time hasn't passed for him to worry yet."
'Makes sense—elves can live for thousands of years in their prime, and royal-blooded elves can probably live even longer. But if this is the case, then…'
Sylvester finally felt a glimmer of hope. "Do you have any elves in your kingdom who are more than five thousand years old? Or do you have any documented history of the Sol Continent from five thousand years ago?"
"Oh!" Avanss exclaimed excitedly. "I see, you're like me—another man in search of answers. Yes and no! In the year the Church was established, a sudden and strange fire burned down our Core Library that held historical documents dating back ten thousand years. A few years later, all elves older than two hundred years slowly began to die from an unknown disease—so, we have elves as old as nearly five thousand years, but not older than that."
'No lies, but I smell a great deal of frustration and hope,' Sylvester sensed and felt the mystery deepen. Everything peculiar began with the establishment of the Church, and it seemed to have impacted the entire planet. Just as the first Pope had cautioned, there was certainly something going on.
"I suppose you came to Sol to uncover the truth about it?" Sylvester guessed. "It would make sense why you were headed to the Holy Land in the first place."
"Yes and no," Avanss replied. "I was intrigued by everything about the Western continent of humans—governed by a fanatic religion. I wanted to learn about your traditions, culture, songs, and inventions. Well, all I witnessed during these years was a metal wall."
"Don't you harbor hatred for those who captured you? Injured you?" Sylvester inquired, as he sensed no hatred in the man—only excitement and hope.
"I do, but as I mentioned, for us elves, the perception of time is different. Those hundred years felt like two decades to me mentally. However, I won't deny that I would relish seeing those responsible burned—as per your ritual," Avanss confessed.
Sylvester was grateful that the elf felt that way. Yet, he still couldn't bring himself to trust the man based on mere words. Not to the extent of revealing his true name and divulging his greatest secret.
He stood up to leave. "Avanss, I will return soon. You can rest assured, you are safe here. I have no reason or desire to harm you. You will receive books, food, and drinks while residing here. Currently, I am occupied with aiding the dwarves, and once I set them free, we will depart."
As Sylvester was leaving, Avanss interjected. "At least tell me your name, my friend."
Sylvester looked back and answered. "Johnathan is my name. To the world, I'm just a human, and I wish to keep it that way."
"I don't even know what you're talking about, 'Johnathan'," Avanss playfully teased, clearly skeptical of Sylvester's name.
Sylvester sighed and moved along. 'Ugh, elves will be hard to deal with.'
As he had spent too much time in the city, he finished briefing Hozin about the next course of action and quickly returned to the royal castle to don his armor again and prepare to walk around the princess.
But one thing was certain—that the days ahead were going to be exceptionally interesting.
…
Indeed, the days grew remarkably eventful. The city had become consumed by strange rumors that were spreading rapidly. Moreover, hatred towards the nobles continued to escalate to the point where any noble found walking the streets for any reason would be attacked and killed if not rescued by guards.
Of course, Sylvester played a significant role in fueling that anger among the people as he ventured into the city with Miraj for a few nights, depleting the city's food reserves to less than half. Simultaneously, he tampered with the water sources, primarily the wells, to hasten their drying up.
The aftereffects only needed three days to appear as the people began to notice the empty wells and inflating price of food. A loaf of bread that used to sell for three copper coins now costs as much as fifteen copper coins, if not more. And the price continued to rise each day.
It wasn't that the administration didn't attempt to resolve the issue by sending additional supplies. They did make an effort, but Sylvester thwarted every plan by either eliminating a few more administrators or causing the food supply to vanish.
When that happened, Sylvester ordered Lady Aurora to open a free food kitchen that served each person two hot, nutritious meals a day by buying grains at exorbitant prices, showing how much love the faith held for the believers.
Aurora wore a beautiful gown befitting a clergywoman, with the usual light golden robes, but on top of them, she wore her golden armor as well. Appearing like a goddess of war while also being a caring mother—she instantly became a celebrity.
Sylvester had many plans to fulfill in the West. One was to reignite the true worship of Solis and foster love for the faith. To cast off the Empire's influence, and with that one move, he achieved it. Of course, the Empire was vast, and there were many monasteries scattered about, but the change had started from the heart of the Empire, and soon it was expected to spread.
But as good as that might be, not everything was peaceful everywhere. While Sylvester achieved some victories slowly, the situation in the East was worrisome.
A week later, Sylvester sat down in his room to get updates from Sir Dolorem about the situation, and the things he learned made his heart rush with blood and aim to resolve the Western matters faster.
"Lord Bard, the Church was able to launch an effective attack into the Beastaria Land. They successfully landed on their shores and are currently in the process of securing a few bases. However, the Pope will be returning to the Holy Land as an emergency has arisen.
"A series of murders has shaken the Holy Land. All the victims are Cardinals from the camp loyal to the Pope. Your loyal Cardinals, Robert, and Cornelius, were also injured but were saved by the protection of the inquisitors I provided them." Sir Dolorem informed Sylvester.
Sylvester immediately grasped what was happening. "It seems the hidden hands have started to move. They know the Pope will likely not survive fighting Dragons and Elves personally in the enemy lands."
"We all believe the same thing. That's why the Pope is returning to handle the situation. He might decide to directly confront the hidden forces this time—his temper is not calming these days."
Sylvester sighed, realizing there was nothing he could do. "When snakes are disguised as faith's greatest guards, I don't believe defeating them will be possible without being scarred. Inform Isabella, King Highland, and Lord Einarr to keep their kingdoms prepared.
"If news of the Pope's death reaches them, tell them to cooperate with the new administration until I return. As for Riveria, instruct Kaecilius to appear as a religious fanatic. If an opportunity arises, the Church will support him in taking over Riveria, as the current King and his family have a history of opposing the Church."
Sir Dolorem almost chuckled on the other side as he admired Sylvester. "You haven't changed at all. Despite being so far away, you have a strong grasp of the situation."
"I don't want to repeat past mistakes, Sir Dolorem," Sylvester replied seriously. "The Shadow of Masan got the better of me once—never again. That's all for now. I will contact you again once I've dealt with the Prince here."
"P-Please stay safe, Lord Bard—don't get caught."
"Haha!" Sylvester laughed heartily. "No need to worry, my old friend—I won't be the one killing him."
With that, Sylvester ended the connection and woke up in the room. A mischievous smile played on his face as he gazed out of the window at the moon.
'Crown Prince—Let's draw your blood in the French style.'
Thank you for reading. GT votes are much appreciated.
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