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

Back in the room, O'Brien lay down on the bed.

It must be that the pastor came back with the group leader and was cleaning the room downstairs, making a lot of noise.

Hell, it was right across from his room. O'Brien rolled over, still feeling irritated at the thought of having another woman in the team.

It's not that he has any prejudice against women.

In fact just the opposite.

O'Brien buried his head under the soft pillow and closed his eyes. To others, darkness is small, dense, disorderly, and depressing, but to him, darkness is broad, inclusive, belonging, and reassuring.

Instinct flows in the blood, which cannot be easily erased with time or habit.

The woman sobbed, which was rare. They've obviously come to the ground, right? She's obviously got what she wanted, right? So why is she showing such a fragile look that he's never seen before?

"Obryn, my child." The woman raised her head and wanted to hug him. She almost blended into the darkness, and her long silver-white hair was spread over her shoulders, like a stream flowing in the dark night. The moonlight shines on her body, covering her with a gauze woven with moonlight. His blood-red eyes were filled with tears, but they did not fall, reminding him of the undefeated Sipanlian in the underground cave.

She gently traced his face that resembled hers, and then her fingertips rested on the corners of his eyes. Push him away.

"Bastard!" she screamed like crazy.

O'Brien opened his green eyes and trembled slightly. He dreamed about unpleasant events from long ago.

His mother, a proud and powerful dark elf, shed perhaps the only tear in her long life to this moonlit night, and then decisively left behind the child she regarded as a stain and the failed love without looking back. Returned to the underground cave.

He did not hate his mother for abandoning him. It would be better to say that intellectually he was disgusted by everything she did, but whenever he thought of this female leader, his instinct left him with only fear.

What he hates comes from the instinct of male dark elves - fear and obedience to women.

O'Brien got out of bed and poured himself a glass of cold water. Miss Pastor must have gone to bed, there was no sound in the room below.

"Alas -" sighed. The cold water poured down, stimulating his intestines and releasing him from his fear.

In order to relieve the tension, he pretended not to care and joked to himself: It was all because of the single entertainment mode in the underground cave. If his mother had read more of these romance novels on the ground, she might not have had a brain cramp and was coaxed by his father to elope with sweet words. .

Speaking of novels, O'Brien stood up from his chair and looked up and down at the pile of second-hand magazines he had piled in the corner.

The long night is long and I have no intention of sleeping. If I don’t fight now, I will wait for a while.

I'll catch you all while you're sleeping. O'Brien thought viciously.

He picked up the top one. The magazine was called "The Spectator", with diverse content and rich pictures and texts. The cover showed a light elf he didn't recognize, and the introduction showed him a famous bard.

I flipped through the general content of the magazine at random, and found that it was really rich and colorful, including tidbits of news, interviews with celebrities, wedding news, obituaries, and serialized novels.

The largest is the serial novel "Young Isaiah's Journey to Godhood." Although the name sounds serious, judging from his not too rich vocabulary, this is indeed a novel by Long Aotian.

At the beginning of the story, the sixteen-year-old protagonist Isaiah ran away from home and embarked on his ridiculous journey.

This experience made O'Brien couldn't help but think about Alvin, do you young masters like to run away from home so much?

He skipped through the rest of the text, mainly because he couldn't understand many phrases, and the semantic distinction between them was unclear.

But he finally understood the tone of the book. It was roughly that the protagonist went to a place, won the favor of a beautiful woman there, received blessings from the gods during his adventure, was awarded legendary equipment, lost spells, and rare spiritual pets, and then everything happened. Hiding his skills and fame, he waved his sleeves and headed to the next place to continue killing monsters and leveling up.

It seems that I will go to the market to buy a dictionary next time. O'Brien thought. He didn't want to ask Arnold for advice with a cool novel. He would definitely be laughed at by the dwarf.

He was just about to close the book when his eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar word.

"Gabe".

Obulin still recognizes the name of the city where he lives his daily life. It turns out that this novel is not a fiction. He became a little more interested and looked at that section.

In the distance, Isaiah had seen the walls of the city of Cap. It runs through the entire plain like a lying giant.

The adventurer city Gabu is located in the east of the entire continent. To the west is the Holy Empire, which occupies most of the continent, and to the east is the Wild Wood.

The current lord of Gabu City is a witch. This would be unimaginable in the Holy Empire. The Holy See of Light would shout "Light shines on everything" and burn all people and things that have anything to do with darkness.

But who calls this a city of adventurers? "Heroes don't ask where they come from." This has attracted a large number of adventurers who can't get along elsewhere on the mainland to settle here.

Twenty years ago, the former lord of Gabu City passed away suddenly. The successor city lord of Gabu City has always been appointed by the predecessor, but unexpectedly, the successor designated by the previous city lord was a witch.

"Who would believe that there is no sexy news in this." The guide took a puff from his cigarette bag. Isaiah nodded in agreement, but he was full of curiosity about this legendary witch.

"Love forever Chrissy". That's what they called her.

O'Brien closed the book again.

Although he barely understood the text, he roughly understood the main plot.

Oh, God bless Gabu City, he has to slow down. The sense of immersion was so strong that he felt that any further reading would be a blasphemy to the current city lord, Old Will. He felt that Old Will, as a half-elf, could conservatively last another two hundred years.

Early the next morning, O'Brien went to the market for a walk, but couldn't find a dictionary at the right price. Sure enough, the good luck in shopping for goods last time was only temporary, and the goddess of luck would not always patronize a dark elf.

When we got back to the hotel, the rest of the team was already up. O'Brien first saw Arnold sitting alone at the round table in the middle, grunting and struggling with his baked beans, and then he saw the leader and the new priest sitting opposite each other at the window seat. While he was handling a piece of fried egg gracefully, the group leader was much more aggressive and nibbled on a piece of buttered toast.

The gap between rich and poor is stark.

O'Brien naturally sat down opposite Arnold and ordered some baked beans too.

"Why are you out so early?" Arnold looked at his beans with a frown on his face. It was indeed the cheapest breakfast in this hotel. If he hadn't lost a lot of money in gambling and his extra money hadn't arrived this month, he wouldn't have wanted to try it.

As a man who competes with sparrows for food, O'Brien chewed the beans until they were crispy: "Last night I took a crucial step on my path of learning. Dear Arnold, are you willing to give me a helping hand?"

Arnold looked wary: "What do you want to do? It's so disgusting."

O'Brien skillfully picked up the free sauce on the table, added it to the beans, and stirred: "I don't know some of the words in the book I'm studying recently. Can you help me translate it?"

Arnold was amazed at his perseverance: "Let me help you with my time, but you also know that I am quite busy with my side job."

"Do you need some help from me?" A clear voice sounded from behind O'Brien. O'Brien couldn't help but tremble.

Perhaps they had finished breakfast, and Sylvia was holding an empty dinner plate in one hand and a staff in the other. The morning light spreads behind the girl, and she looks peaceful and peaceful in the foggy weather in the morning.

"There is a dictionary in my room. You can borrow it if you need it." She still lowered her eyes slightly with an impeccable smile.

O'Brien didn't dare look at her. His first reaction was to refuse, but when he thought about it carefully, she had never done anything to him, so why should he be afraid of her? Besides, it was indeed beneficial and harmless to him...

"Thank you then." He lowered his head and whispered.

The priest nodded, put the tableware back to the dining area, and then waved for O'Brien to follow.

O'Brien followed her, lowering his head and observing secretly. The pastor's steps were steady and firm, not affected by her impaired vision at all.

The staff she has been holding in her hand is a bit longer than usual, perhaps so that it can be used as a blind stick in complex terrain. There were many complicated patterns carved on the staff. O'Brien couldn't tell whether these were some kind of incantation. Maybe they were simply used to prevent slipping.

The pastor's room was indeed directly below his room, with the same layout.

Unlike his room, which was forced to look tidy because there were too few things, the pastor's luggage was well organized despite having a lot of stuff. The quilts on the bed were neatly folded and put aside. There was an open book on the table by the window, with a dried flower inside as a bookmark. The book was written in Braille, and O'Brien couldn't read it at all.

Like his desk, the kerosene lamp was pushed to the side corner. But the reasons for not using the lamp were very different. One was because of talent and the other was because of disability. After realizing it, O'Brien felt a little sympathy in his heart.

On the other corner of the wall, the pastor placed a small bookcase, just high enough for her to reach it at will. She carefully rubbed the spine of the book, as if trying to identify it, and finally pulled out a heavy book.

"This book." She touched the cover and handed it to O'Brien, "I hope it can help you."

He took it. He felt that he should say thank you or something, but the words were stuck in his throat and he couldn't say it out loud.

It was Sylvia who was the first to break the silence.

"Actually..." She tilted her head and faced his direction, which actually gave O'Brien the illusion that she was looking at him.

"You know, in my eyes..." she gestured in the air with her finger, "you are a hollow."

"The elemental void," she added. "I'm a little curious."

O'Brien suddenly understood. This is normal, but not that normal. As a dark elf, he is repulsed by almost all elements.

You see, lies can be exposed so easily.

Is it time to explain all this to her? He was a little nervous for no reason, but relieved.

He spoke.

"What happened?" Sylvia ignored him and quickly walked to the window and opened it.

O'Brien just discovered that there was an alley outside her window, but beyond that was the street in front of the hotel. Surprisingly, the streets were still bustling at this time, with adventurers gathering together and discussing something.

An orc boy ran through the alley holding a sign, bringing with him a gust of wind.

"The city lord has passed away!" he shouted loudly.