Chapter 1352 - 578: Chaos in Tiriel

Chapter 1352: Chapter 578: Chaos in Tiriel

"Half-Elves?" Fugen felt a touch of skepticism, though his expression did not change in the slightest. He still appeared eager for talent, while inwardly he pondered the origins of the Half-Elves.

According to the Imperial volume Old World Geography that Fugen had read, he recalled what was written about the Half-Elves.

Half-Elves hail from the Mut Territory of the Empire; their history and origin have already been discussed earlier, so it need not be repeated here.

Though their height is similar to that of a Dwarf, Half-Elves have never been a race famed for battle. Compared to being a Warrior, they are far better suited as merchants, innkeepers, musicians, and in the art of cooking their talent is unmatched throughout the Old World. Normally, mortal cooking methods are nothing more than boiling, stewing, and roasting, whereas upon this foundation Half-Elves have developed frying, smoking, braising, stir-frying, pan-searing, stewing and many other techniques. In the Old World Human Realm, any high-class inn or tavern must have a Half-Elf chef presiding over the kitchen; otherwise, it would not be considered a truly "refined" establishment.

Small in stature, Half-Elves are born Wanderers, adept at scouting, thievery, trickery and the use of simple ranged weapons. Their sight is keen, their hearing exceptional, and they possess nimble speed. They are naturally able to hide themselves swiftly and silently, and few races are able to match their speed. Half-Elves value clan tradition above all; they believe clan bonds are an existence that transcends blood and law.

Yet Half-Elves are not far removed from war; on the contrary, many Half-Elves delight in adventure and in becoming Mercenaries. This race places the highest value on coin, but unlike Dwarfs, their love of money expresses itself through spending. They dislike hoarding, and constantly pour their wealth into gifts, parties, and purchases. To them, money is the measure of how well they are living in a world filled with heavy and gigantic races.

When a Half-Elf has amassed enough wealth to squander away the rest of their life, they will return to the Mut Territory to enjoy a life of leisure. Most Half-Elves, however, clearly never achieve this, so Half-Elf Mercenaries usually complete a contract, find a fine place to squander their earnings, and then take on the next commission.

Thanks to their optimistic and cheerful nature and their warm-heartedness, Half-Elves tend to remain far from Chaos Corruption. Their jokes and boasting keep any journey from being dull, and they are always welcome—though their penchant for petty theft makes people both love and hate them.

"Half-Elves may be excellent Scouts and camp-following cooks, but what I need is an elite army ready for battle," Fugen said calmly, his expression gentle. "The expedition will be far too arduous."

"Habi stands at the Legendary Peak, a Wanderer advancing toward the Holy Sanctuary as a Wandering Swordsman. He was once a thief and a poacher. After coming to Tiriel, he repeatedly wrought miracles. He once feigned play as a timid Half-Elf and, relying on a few daggers, slew a band of brigands on the spot. He even successfully assassinated a Black Green-skinned Warlords while the brute was squatting to relieve himself." Amancio gestured for Fugen to listen. "The Half-Elves under him are all crack shots with bow and crossbow, and they possess a secret weapon besides."

"A secret weapon?" Now Fugen’s interest was truly piqued.

"It is the Half-Elf Cauldron!" Amancio said solemnly. "A special thick broth brewed by Half-Elves. This black soup can burn even in water. Once it touches an object, it continues to burn until it dies out. Thus, when it comes into contact with a human body, it eats through flesh and skin, then bores into the bone. There is no way to extinguish these flames, unless the one stained by them is burned entirely into a heap of ash."

"So that’s how it is." With a brief moment of association, Fugen understood at once what kind of weapon it was. If things were as Amancio described, then this Half-Elf was indeed worth recruiting. "I see! And what of that Arabi Lamp God Warlock?"

Amancio glanced around; all the servants, taking the hint, immediately withdrew and left the hall to the few guests at the feast.

"No one knows this Lamp God Warlock’s true name."

"What I have learned is that he comes from Arabi, passed through the Pirate Duchy of Satusha, and now resides in Tiriel. He is extremely mysterious and always refers to himself simply as a Warlock. In the past, he has variously proclaimed different identities—from a trading Prince to an elder exiled by the Magic Academy, and even the Gilded King of Arabi. Yet no matter which identity he claims, he soon denies it himself. Thus, we generally call him the ’Golden Mage.’"

"He bears a golden Scimitar that burns without end, and his robes are stitched from the finest embroidered silk. His skin is dusted with gold powder, giving him an exotic look. His manners are elegant, and he favors speaking in heavily accented High Gothic Language. But anyone who has truly witnessed his skill will never mistake him for a mere Arabi noble. With but a single Spell he can summon Fire Element, wind Element, and Sea Elemental Essence to strike his foes, even conjuring deep-sea whirlpools and vast thunderstorms. It is said that, in dire peril, he can also call forth the Legendary Arabi Lamp God from an ancient jar. Sadly, no one has ever seen it—or those who have are all dead."

"Recently, he appeared in Miraglino of Tiriel. He is wounded and has lost one eye. He has publicly declared that he needs a helper—or a partner—to aid him in exacting his revenge. He possesses wealth and knowledge beyond counting."