[Western Fantasy] The black-skinned elf also wants to hug the rich woman’s lap today

O'Brien went to bed very early tonight. Almost as soon as he returned to the room, he went straight to the bed, pulled up the quilt and covered his head. The tall elf didn't even have time to take off his shoes, and his calves were exposed outside the bed, like a frog with its white belly exposed on its back.

He didn't know which link was wrong, and the lazy elf didn't bother to separate his emotions one by one - it was simply another level of whipping and torture, and just thinking about it made him want to die with shame and anger.

God, give me a sweet dream. He closed his eyes in despair, but for a long time he could not find the peace he expected.

At this time it’s time to challenge the difficulty.

He turned over and threw the thumbed-up "Spectator" magazine on top of the pile of papers in the corner, almost gathering dust, silently condemning the owner for three days of fishing and two days of drying nets.

I can't help it, I'm busy, I'm busy hugging the rich woman's thigh. O'Brien played with his conscience willfully, frowning and pinching a corner of the page.

Sure enough, even with the aid of a dictionary, reading "Young Isaiah's Journey to Godhood" was far more difficult than he expected.

For example, in this paragraph, a long paragraph is devoted to describing the protagonist's mysterious first love.

First love, right? That woman. The young protagonist was fascinated by her, and even though he was in a foreign land, he always thought of this woman in his heart. Various modifiers, whether elegant, subtle, popular, or modern, are used to modify this woman.

Was the author in love when he wrote this book? O'Brien was in agony. Or simply a straight man?

Ah, ah, they are all women. irritable. I skipped through the pages and couldn't grasp the key points. O'Brien yawned. In less than a quarter of an hour, the dark elf was finally able to confirm that this book was indeed a bedtime reading and had an excellent hypnotic effect. With the satisfaction of having learned knowledge (which he didn't actually have), he was finally able to fall asleep with peace of mind.

--------------

Separated by a wall. Downstairs, Sylvia sat by the window with her eyes lowered, carefully cutting open the envelope with a paper knife.

The envelope was not heavy, so she put two fingers into it, and finally pulled out only a thin piece of paper.

A blank piece of paper.

But that didn't matter to the blind priest. She spread the letter out on the table, making sure it lay flat. Then, his fingers pressed against it, making it a perfect fit, and the pad of his index finger carefully rubbed, rubbed, and felt.

Mona language is the writing and language of the sand people who live in the noisy desert in the south. A simple arrangement and combination of dots and lines can weave simple words and sentences.

Every year, the priest leaves the imperial city for nearly two months to go to the center of the Holy See of Light - the city in the lake, Wotrili, to report on his duties. During this period, when she wanted to send a letter to the priest to share a little secret between them, they wrote in this language. This is a private little game between them.

The thin piece of paper seems to have no trace, but if you touch it carefully, you can feel the slight bumps.

The text is brief. It just means - "leave".

Sylvia's fingertips bounced like an electric shock. The slightly long fingernails inadvertently scratched across the table, making a strange and terrifying sound.

This made her body twitch as if she was suddenly awakened from sleep. But he quickly controlled his emotions, took up his hands, and wrapped his sharp nails in his warm palms.

Even so, she could not hide the surprise on her face.

This "leaving" does not refer to her departure, but the priest's sincere suggestion that she stay away from the imperial city, away from home, away from the Holy See, and away from him for the time being. The length of this "temporary" period has not been determined, and perhaps even the priest himself cannot estimate it, so he used such a vague word.

She didn't understand. Even though she is nominally Father Leo's adopted daughter, she is still a minor figure. She is really not a threat, let alone a bargaining chip. She had expected that the smuggling of "seeds" would trigger a purge within the Holy See, but no matter how she thought about it, the disputes among the factions would not cause the priest to warn her like this.

She admits she panicked for a moment. She has always positioned her existence in this world accurately. She is the daughter of a wealthy businessman, the adopted daughter of a priest, a gifted priest, and an ordinary good person who is working hard to learn and establish rules. But this news seemed to create a crack in the knowledge created over more than ten years. Something unforeseen looked at her coldly through the crack, but she had never been aware of it.

In order to calm her uneasiness, she couldn't wait to find something to do. This kind of anxiety can even be said to be running away. She forced herself to regain her composure and think about other things, things that interested her, such as the feasibility of elemental absorption that she had been thinking about recently, and about the abyssal parasitic structure she saw in the Green Fern Grass Snake.

Books, yes, the books I bought in the bookstore today were placed on the left hand side. The elf reminded him emphatically when he left... The elf...

The pastor took a breath, like a sigh, like he was letting out the panic.

"I'm such a coward." She laughed at herself, relaxed her clenched fingers, and put her hand into her book pocket.

By the way, there's this thing. She brushed her fingers over the book covers and pulled out one.

The pastor, who was immersed in his thoughts, did not notice that in the alley opposite the window, near the intersection, there was a dark figure staring at her. After a while, he turned and left.

---------------

"Welcome back." Daisy was wiping her wine glass behind the bar. She couldn't help but say hello happily when she heard the movement. Even though it was already getting late, there were only a few regular customers in the tavern.

Daisy is the only daughter of the owner of the Black Gold Tavern in Gabu City. She is cute and cute, and helps out in her own tavern. Several rooms above the pub are also rented on a long-term basis. And this Mr. "Dark Star" just checked into the guest room a few days ago.

Beautiful people have always been preferred. Although Mr. Darkstar often wore the hood on his cloak, Daisy still saw his face when he registered.

Wow. For the sake of her family's business, Daisy had learned a few years of knowledge, but she still had trouble finding words to describe the beauty of Mr. Dusky Star.

Mr. Dusky Star actually looks very young, still looking like a boy of seventeen or even younger, but he already has the physique of an adult, so that people don't think he is a showman. But he was too handsome, not just in appearance, but in temperament. A wet temperament. Whether it was the black hair hanging over her left shoulder, the translucent black eyes, or the pale and thin cheeks, there was an indescribable hazy feeling, as if he existed in another rainy night dream that did not belong to her.

Hearing her greeting, he paused in his hurry, nodded to her politely, and then went upstairs. The gray cloak twirled around the corner, like a poppy that bloomed and withered in an instant. Daisy, who was nearby, smelled the smell of smoke, the residual smell after burning.

There will always be ignorant regular customers who tease girls about their concerns, "Hey, our little Daisy has reached this age too."

Daisy raised her eyebrows, and the sixteen-year-old girl stared back without shame, slammed the oak beer glass on the table, and blocked the mouth of the nosy regular customer.

But there was a sound coming from upstairs. It was originally the sound of a box being opened, and then there was another muffled sound of a human body hitting the floor.

For safety reasons, Daisy hurriedly wiped her wet hands on her apron and hurried upstairs with her skirt in hand.

Mr. Dusky Star's door was not closed tightly, and a small crack in the door was like the cunning and slender eyes of a poisonous snake, tempting the girl to open it. Daisy hesitated for a moment, then decided to respect the privacy of the guests and knocked on the door, "Mr. Dusky Star, are you okay?"

No one answered.

Daisy could only look in through the crack in the door. But it was also dark, and the people inside the house did not light any lamps.

"Then I'm in." She had no choice but to open the door. A figure lay on the floor, motionless.

"Sir? Sir! Mr. Dusky Star!" The girl rushed forward and slapped the young man on the shoulder. When there was no response, she had to push his upper body hard. Something seemed to wake her up, and something moved in the breast pocket of Dusky Star's shirt, as if it wanted to poke its head out.

The girl obviously noticed the sound of the fabric being rubbed. She was afraid of what kind of poison it was, and prepared to lift the cloak with trembling hands.

Snap—but his wrist was grabbed.

Daisy breathed a sigh of relief, "Mr. Dusky Star..."

The young man who woke up seemed to be still out of the situation. He blinked and just greeted her mechanically and politely, and then tactfully expressed that he was fine and just needed some space for himself to rest.

Daisy understood the implication and had no intention of offending him, so she stood up and left. The moment she closed the door, a silvery light flashed in the corner of her eyes. She turned around unconsciously and saw the young man slowly taking off his cloak and shirt. A silver chain hung on the slender neck with a bell-shaped pendant. But beneath this, his fair arms and chest were covered with light red marks, like extremely thin threads being pulled and tightened.

But that was just a visual remnant, and Daisy quickly put it behind her.

Only occasionally, passing by the window, did she realize that tonight was actually a full moon night. The silvery white moonlight can be said to be almost brilliant, and even the occasional stars can only fade away.

---------------

Isaiah returned to the hotel after completing his mission. It's not quite right to call it a hotel. It's actually just a guest room converted from the owner's private residence above the tavern. But it's clean and tidy, and the landlady is warm and friendly.

The sound of his return startled the proprietress who was busy behind the bar. She was a woman of about thirty-five years old, slightly plump, with rosy apple-like cheeks. She looked at him and said, "Welcome back, Mr. Shuoxing."

The drinkers were laughing and joking, "Daisy, are you ashamed to spy on a beautiful man at such an old age?"

The landlady snorted and raised her eyebrows, "Don't talk about it now! Even if I am seventy or eighty years old, I still have the right to appreciate beautiful men!"

"Hey, what a boy!" The guests in the tavern, who were always familiar with each other, hugged Isaiah, but fortunately the proprietress was there and no one dared to mess around too much. "You know how to hide your identity at a young age. Come on, which family’s young master is this?”

"But." The drinker exhaled a big breath, and Isaiah smelled the aroma of drunken wine. "Only a name that can be remembered by people can be called a hero."

"Right, Mr. Sparkling Star?"

He didn't pay attention to the drinker's weirdness, but suddenly had an idea.

If...if he became a hero and spread his name throughout the continent, then even she would be happy about it.

——"Young Isaiah's Journey to Godhood"