Chapter 130 Duty
Even its name, Elfaven, was said to mean ’Perfect City’ in the ancient Elf Tongue which had been long lost.
Constructed on a mountain which looked like its top had been cut off by a gigantic sword, just the entrance itself made sure to display the Elves’ superiority in magic and enchanting.
In equal intervals around the foot of the 30 km diameter mountain, there stood round mirrors with guards stationed in front of them.
Any and all travelers who made their way over would be asked for their purpose for coming to the city, before their identities were recorded. After this process was done, they would be asked to step into the mirror.
This was the point where one could assess whether someone was coming to Elfaven for the first time. After all, these were mirrors. Why would someone step into them?
Yet, after stepping forward while gritting their teeth and being sure that they would definitely step back due to the impact, expressions of shock would appear on their faces after realizing that it was actually a teleportation formation.
Indeed, the Kingdom of the Elves had spared no cost in order to set up multiple short-range teleportation formations around the mountain to facilitate entry. There was no other way into the city unless one could teleport directly inside, in which case squads of soldiers would be waiting to recieve them.
In the case of an attack, the formations could simply be closed off, while it was rumored that the city had one of the only large-scale space lock formations in all of Angaria to prevent enemy infiltration.
All the formations led to a single, broad walkway paved in yellow stones. Trees with multiple colors of leaves lined this 100 foot wide walkway, resulting in a heavenly scene that made almost each and every first-time visitor’s jaws drop.
Further inside the city, buildings would start to dot the two sides of the roads.
The buildings themselves were also a sight to see. With flowing designs and beautifully decorated structures, there was one feeling which sprung up in each and every passerby’s heart: perfection.
"Vote for Queen Eldora! Peace and happiness to all!"
"Queen Eldora’s blessing allowed me to turn my life around and set up a business after my husband was killed in the army! Bless her heart! We must vote so that she can help many more like me! -A resident of East Elfaven."
A man wearing a grey fur coat shivered in the cold wind as he hurried along on a side road.
All over Elfaven, small bird-like constructs the size of a palm could be seen flying near those walking on the roads and reciting statements like these. After they were done, they would fly away to find their next hapless victim.
Indeed, Eldinor was a democratic country.
The Elves of Angaria had one common trait which could be seen in almost each and every member of their species: Individuality.
Having strong personalities and unyielding mindsets, this was a trait which was said to be both a boon and bane to the race.
It was a boon because it allowed them to pursue anything they wished with a single-minded determination: making it so that the best researchers and enchanters were all said to come from Eldinor.
It was a bane because this trait meant that they would never follow someone’s command or rule easily.
Thus, unity had always been the goal of each and every ruler, yet none had achieved it so far.
Democracy was an in-between option that made it so that they could at least grudgingly follow a ruler who had been elected by the majority. If they had any problem, they could always try and stand in the elections themselves.
Of course, only Elves were eligible to cast votes.
As for the people of other races who had settled in the Kingdom, they had no such right even though they were treated warmly.
Grumbling to himself while having no other choice but to listen to all the slogans, the man hastened his footsteps to reach an inn.
Inside, a petite elf with single-bladed earlobes smiled as she saw him enter.
"Devon, your rent is 6 months overdue. If you didn’t make the best beer in all of West Elfaven, I would surely have thrown you out by now. Get the money, dear, or I will have no choice to soon."
In a sweet voice, the elf said these words while polishing a few bottles of wine arranged carefully in cupboards lining the walls.
Nodding and giving a smile, the man ran up the stairs to reach his room.
With a single bed and bathroom, there was no clue to indicate that the man had been living here for the past 5 years.
Closing the door, he hurriedly sat on the bed and took out a small coin.
It was a Gold Lan, and if others looked at it, they would simply ask him to take out different currency.
Yet, plucking his finger, he made a drop of blood fall on the coin.
Seeing the red glow that blinked twice before disappearing, a smile came on the man’s face, as his blood boiled after what felt like ages.
For the past two years, he had had to do odd jobs while waiting for this call.
Brought up in a secret location in Lanthanor, the value of loyalty and patriotism had been drilled into him since childhood, along with skills like stealth, assassination and subterfuge.
Sent as a sleeper agent to Elfaven, he had been shocked when a message came two years ago that the King had changed the budget and was disavowing all but some sleeper agents in Angaria.
Since then, there had been no resources to support him. Having no other choice but to live by sweeping floors and brewing beer, the man had still been waiting for some message that would give meaning to his existence again.
Finally, the call had come.
2 blinks. One meant to awake. The other meant serve.
Awake from your sleep. Serve your Kingdom.
In all the 5 Kingdoms in Angaria, this same sight could be seen.
The man’s eyes burned with passion, as he realized that the time had come to do his duty.
....
In the throne room of the Black Raven Kingdom.
The King was pacing to and fro in front of the enormous Black Raven, while the old man stood to the side with his eyes closed.
"Any word yet?!", he asked again for the 10th time since coming back to the Kingdom.
Frowning as he heard this, the old man first glanced at the Raven behind the throne with reverence before saying, "You gave him a week. Don’t be so impatient. We heard what he said to the Elf. The one behind him will definitely be able to find out what we need."
"But what if he doesn’t?!"
After waiting for the scream to stop echoing in the room, the old man replied, "If so, then it just means that he was bluffing to the elves. That information could be... leaked."
As a nefarious smile appeared on the old man’s face, the King sighed before sitting back down on the throne.
Calling for an attendant, he ordered, "Activate all sleepers in Lanthanor. I want all of his movements, no matter who we need to sacrifice."
.....
Meanwhile, in an underground room in the Palace of Lanthanor.
Around 800 men stood in a circle, watching in awe at a peculiar set up in the middle of the room.
A 30 feet long table could be seen, with enchanting tables holding needles like the one Daneel had seen in Ripley’s room all those years ago placed at regular intervals.
The King of Lanthanor stood at one end of the table, holding one such coin in his hands.
"A simple short-range communication trinket. Watch."
Saying so, the King first went to the first table and activated it, making the needles fly out and start engraving on the coin.
A typical trinket like this took 2 hours to be enchanted by a 1st Grade Enchanter. Yet, the King only spent 20 minutes at an engraving table before moving to the rest.
Those in the crowd who had studied enchanting gasped as they saw this.
How is he doing this? Shouldn’t it explode? Or at least be ruined? What’s the point?
Many such questions floated through their head as they watched the King flit from one table to the next spending 20 minutes at each.
Finally, 3 hours later, he stood in front of the trinket and prepared to finish the final step: activating the engraving.
As the coin became red hot while Daneel concentrated on it, many couldn’t help but duck and move back, anticipating an explosion. After all, at this step, if there was anything wrong with the engraving, this would definitely happen.
Yet, the jaws of the crowd collectively dropped as the coin glowed for a bit before going back to normal, indicating that the enchanting had been completed successfully.
"But, My King, it took 3 hours to complete. Isn’t that more than the time required usually?"
It was the head of the previous RnD department who asked this.
The King’s answer shocked him, making him shake his head as he wondered if he had heard right.
"Imagine a different person at each table, doing the same engraving over and over again until they became so adept at it that it will only take 5 minutes to finish it instead of 20. Wouldn’t the total engraving time drop down to 45 minutes? And wouldn’t each team of you equal a peak 1st Grade Enchanter?"