Elven Valley (16)

It didn't take long for Ning Busan to discover the Mother Tree's little scheme.

The entire Elven Valley was keeping it a secret from him, so how did he find out?

Because Lobao had gotten fat!

It was one thing for one's own child to put on a little weight, but Lobao hadn't just gained a tiny bit—he was literally two sizes larger.

Moreover, Lobao was going out far too frequently. When asked what he was doing, he would only act bashful and refuse to speak.

Sensing that something fishy was going on, Ning Busan quietly tailed Lobao, wanting to find out who exactly was feeding him.

Then, he saw Lobao actually mingling with a group of young elven children, and he was even surrounded right in the center!

Feeling playful, Ning Busan crept over quietly and asked in a low, ghostly voice, “What are you all doing?”

He thought these little elves would scatter in fright, but instead, a chorus of gasps rang out.

“Wow—”

All the surrounding little elves looked at Ning Busan with eyes full of admiration, and even a faint sense of closeness.

Ning Busan found it incredibly bizarre.

They used to be scared to death of him, so why the sudden, massive change?

A little girl holding a flower wreath ran up to Ning Busan, her face flushed red. “This is for you!”

Who said a King fallen to darkness was scary?

Possessing both the nobility and elegance of an elf, blended with the wildness and unruliness of having fallen to darkness, a dark fallen King was simply too charming!

Ning Busan picked her up. “I remember you're named Perrin. The last time you saw me, you were so scared you cried. Why aren't you afraid of me anymore?”

“Your Majesty, I super, super, super like you!” Perrin hugged Ning Busan's arm and said expectantly, “Are you willing to accept my flower wreath?”

Ning Busan bowed his head slightly, letting her place the flower wreath on his head.

Who could refuse a sweet, soft little child?

Ning Busan gently kissed Perrin on her forehead.

When he looked down again, all the little elves had gathered around him, staring at him expectantly.

Ning Busan gave a helpless smile.

This trip wasn't in vain at all!

Once he had coaxed the children, Ning Busan picked Lobao up by the scruff of his neck and pointed at him, saying to the little elves, “Don't feed him anymore in the future!”

The little elves chimed in unison, “Okay—”

Lobao pouted unhappily.

Ning Busan sighed with a headache. “You really need to control your diet!”

Lobao left the message on read and ignored it.

Ning Busan knew that when things were out of the ordinary, there had to be mischief afoot. The change in these little elves' attitude toward him was definitely connected to the Mother Tree.

He had been so engrossed in his cultivation lately that he had ignored the Mother Tree's unusual behavior. Thinking about it now, the Mother Tree's mood seemed a bit too cheerful, didn't it?

Under Ning Busan's close surveillance, he finally discovered the secret that the Mother Tree and the elves were keeping from him.

Outrageously, Faelo's childhood experiences had already finished broadcasting, and now they were showing the adult version.

The adult Faelo had gone to the human world.

At that time, the Dawn Empire had not yet been established. The human world was like a living purgatory, with corpses strewn everywhere.

Faelo had seen the ultimate evil of human nature, and he had also seen its absolute goodness.

Evil people bullied the weak, brandishing iron fists and trampling upon the dignity of the innocent, yet they lived carefree and comfortable lives.

Meanwhile, good people harbored compassion and devoutly believed in the God of Light, yet they received no divine favor in return, forced to watch everything they loved be destroyed before their eyes.

The ruthlessness of war tore apart the brilliance of humanity and magnified the cruelty of fate, causing the boundary between good and evil to blur and invert amidst the smoke of battle.

If gods were truly merciful, why didn't they save the mortals?

Was it because they couldn't, or because they chose not to?

Faelo stayed in the human world for several centuries, only returning to the Elven Valley when the old Elven King passed away.

By then, there were already two drops of dark crystal blood between his brows.

No elf cared about what he had experienced, nor did any elf care about how painful it was for him to fall to darkness.

All they cared about was that Faelo's existence defiled the purity of the Elven Valley.

Even if the Elven Mother Tree chose Faelo to be the next Elven King, they still wanted to banish him from the Elven Valley and crown a new king.

Faelo looked at his clan members in the Elven Valley, feeling nothing but sorrow.

They did not understand that the world was no longer as it was in the ballads of the troubadours.

The iron hooves of the xenos ran rampant in the human world, yet the elves remained immersed in their thousand-year dream of peace.

Once the human line of defense was breached, the Elven Valley might be next.

If the deities could look on coldly as humanity perished, would they truly lend a helping hand to the Elven Valley?

Faelo was determined to change all of this. Thus, he slew the illegitimate new king and initiated a reformation of the Elven Clan with ruthless and brutal methods.

Faelo melted harps into arrowheads and wove vines into battle spears, forcing his clan members to pick up weapons and begin training.

He knew his people feared him.

There was no elf who did not dread him, including his own parents.

But for the future of the Elven Clan, he had no other choice.

Faelo ruled the Elven Clan for three thousand years. Finally, the Elven Clan was no longer merely the pets of the God of Light; they had grown fangs and sharpened their claws.

Even if the God of Light stopped protecting them one day, they would still possess the strength to defend themselves.

But these three thousand years were far too agonizing for Faelo.

The Elven Mother Tree projected Faelo's silhouette onto the sky screen. The moonlight stretched his shadow very long, like a sharp sword piercing through the darkness.

This figure, fractured by the moonlight, cast the backbone of the Elven Valley in frost and snow, while his loneliness echoed through the valley as an eternal, unyielding song.

This was his destiny. No one understood him, no one accompanied him; there was only endless solitude and responsibility.

It was even accompanied by subtitles:

The elves wept uncontrollably.

Their King had actually endured so much pain!

Even Ning Busan couldn't help but be moved after watching it.

If the Elven Mother Tree had been born in the modern era, she would have surely secured a place for herself in the directing world.

Elvin spotted Ning Busan and walked over to kneel on one knee before him. His voice carried an incomparable resolve and gravity. “You are the eternal glory and pride of the Elven Clan!”

The elves of the Elven Valley chanted in unison, “You are the eternal glory and pride of the Elven Clan! We shall pledge our eternal loyalty to you, our King!”

Ning Busan slowly let out a breath.

Even when receiving Faelo's memories and emotions, he hadn't felt such an intense sensation.

But now, he suddenly digested Faelo's card completely, as if all of Faelo's lingering obsessions had vanished.

Ning Busan suddenly recalled the words Salos had spoken before his death: The King must be strong enough. The King is lonely.

At the very least, Salos had a group of elves who knew the truth about the plague fighting alongside him. Faelo was far lonelier than him.

Faelo's reformation was a purely solitary battle. His people did not understand him, resented and cursed him, and even erased his existence from the Silverglow Annals after his departure.

Yet now, the Elven Mother Tree had made the events of ten thousand years ago public, clearing Faelo's name.

Ning Busan bowed toward the Elven Mother Tree, thanking her sincerely, “Thank you.”

These elves had fallen in love with him through the Mother Tree's perspective because, in the Mother Tree's eyes, he was always worthy of being loved.

Throughout those lonely three thousand years, it was the Elven Mother Tree who accompanied him, always choosing him steadfastly.

As always, the Elven Mother Tree made a heart gesture and hummed a song deep in his consciousness.

Ning Busan suddenly smiled.

He had always felt a deep sense of helplessness toward the Elven Clan. Their goodness and stubbornness seemed engraved in their very bones; pluck any elf at random, and they would be a saint.

But so what?

The Elven Valley was a paradise.

Here, Ning Busan had the Mother Tree to lean on and many friends. He didn't have to face scheming intrigues, nor did he have to be as busy as a bee like in the Dawn Empire.

Ning Busan really liked the Elven Valley.

He especially cherished his life in the Elven Valley during this period.

He thought that even if he left the Elven Valley one day, this place would become his most beautiful memory.

However, he never expected that even though the plague had already vanished, the scene predicted by the Book of Sages would still come to pass.