The First Legendary Beast Master

Chapter 1889: Not What It Seems

Karl nodded in understanding as the girl paused. "So, this used to be the city of Tuborg, a city hidden in the woods, and apparently made from the woods themselves, in the style of the Elves.

I must say, even after being separated into a pocket dimension for this long, the city really is grand."

The servant smiled and nodded. "Thank you, we’ve done our best to keep it the way that it was intended to be. It’s not easy when the space is so limited, as this pocket dimension isn’t particularly large for an Elven forest, but it’s enough to keep the city alive."

"So, everyone just does their thing within the city, and the Council keeps order?" Karl asked.

"Yes, everything is quite structured.

There have been some changes made to the original design. Given that there are so few of us pure-blooded Elves left after the final battle of Tuborg, the decision was made to dismantle the old caste system and move to a more human system of hereditary employment.

Is that the word? Where you take the job that your parents held?"

Karl nodded. "It works. Apprenticeship under ones’ parents, or employment within the same industry that they specialized in, allows the training of children from an early age. Humans are short-lived, and they don’t have a century to study and determine what they would like to do with their lives.

So, they usually all start out doing what their parents did."

"Start out?"

Karl nodded. "Of course. Most jobs cannot be done for an entire lifetime. For example, I was born in a mining town on a mortal world, but if you make it past middle-aged, your body starts to slow, old injuries accumulate, and you become better suited to other positions.

Those with the most experience are the best to run things, like with your Council being the oldest among you.

So, even in the Immortal Realms, humans start out with their family’s trade, and then strive to do better for themselves so that their children can start out in the improved situation that they earned later in life."

The Elf looked stunned by this news.

"You’re telling me that the job can change?"

"Yes? I thought that was obvious. If a senior position passes away, the position naturally goes to the next most capable, while their children start in junior positions within the same field.

For example, you serve beverages for the guests of the Council, and perhaps the council themselves.

Normally, that position would come after working in junior positions, either cleaning or working in the staff dining area. Then, when you are more trusted and skilled, you move up to a better position, until you prove that you’re the best of the group, and have a chance to either lead a department or become the head maid."

Every ear in the room was intently tuned to Karl’s words, and even Cara could tell that there was something wrong with this situation.

"That makes no sense at all. We are all equal, there is no hierarchy. The daughter of a serving slave is a serving slave. The son of a floor sweeper is a floor sweeper."

Cara raised her hand to stop the girl before Karl could.

"You used the magic word. You said serving slave. Are you property of the council?"

The Elf nodded. "Of course. Everyone in Tuborg is born with an indenture contract to the Grand Council of the Resistance."

Cara turned to Karl. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?"

"Probably not, but I might be thinking what Rae is thinking."

The badger laughed.

They couldn’t lie in this place, but phrasing things uncertainly was a great way to get around saying what they wanted to say. However, even phrased in a more subtle way, the horror was beginning to dawn on the draconic face of Veda.

She now knew why the Darklight Host had crushed their world.

Their world was a slave farm for an Immortal Sect. A "resource planet" not in the sense of food and medicinal herbs, but of the mortals that lived there.

Veda was also vaguely aware of the history of the Darklight Host, and the lore of the World Dragon.

If they came across a whole planet of slaves, they were almost guaranteed to convert it by force.

No matter how well the locals felt they were treated.

"Do you like your job?" Karl asked carefully.

"Oh, very much, yes. We don’t get nearly as many visitors as I would hope, as the Council can take care of most of their business remotely and doesn’t often entertain visitors. But I greatly enjoy my job.

That cart is one that I made myself, you know?

I am moderately skilled with the natural arts, old Elvish Magic. I conjured that cart the day that I took over this position from my mother, and I’ve been improving it ever since."

Karl examined the cart, which appeared to be made of some sort of silver metal and polished wood.

"You conjured silver?"

"It’s actually Elven Steel. And yes, I conjured it myself on my fortieth birthday."

"That’s very impressive. A wonderful looking cart, even if I’m not familiar with the properties of the wood that you’ve used."

He was familiar with Elven steel, they had collected a lot of it from a dungeon not long after he had set up the Drodh Guild House. But this wood was an entirely new species to him, and he had never seen it before.

"That is Elven cherrywood. It’s a wonderful material because it doesn’t stain, doesn’t rot, and no matter what you spill on it, the wood always smells like cherry blossoms. It makes it perfect for a serving cart, where you’re taking away dishes after a meal."

"Ah, that makes perfect sense. If your nose is sensitive to smells, then you really don’t want to mingle the smells."

The server giggled, while a few behind her were working much harder to hide their amusement.

"Did I say something odd?"

"Sir, the smell we’re usually trying to hide is not that of the food, but of the lowborn guests. Palace Elves are quite tidy, but many of the outer city’s human residents are little better than savages, and the smell can be quite potent."