The Elven Cultivator

The captain of the guard stood at the very front, holding a long scroll. He made a mark on it for each arriving guest, who was then guided inside by another guard.

Guests arrived in a constant stream, each presenting a congratulatory gift.

There were lavishly dressed merchants riding tall beasts of burden.

There were Beastman Chiefs clad in animal hides, with War Axes on their backs.

There were human Casters in long robes, holding Magic Staffs.

There were even a few members of the Sea Race, dripping wet, with faint gill slits visible on the sides of their necks.

They had hurried over from Changhu Town and still carried the briny scent of the sea.

They were a diverse, multi-racial crowd.

Just a few years ago, who would have thought that such a group of forces—belonging to different races that once fought for themselves under the oppressive might of Dragon City—would gather so orderly in the same forest?

It had been a long time since the Silver Moon Forest was this lively.

The last time was for Anton’s coming-of-age ceremony.

Back then, however, he was just a young Elf who had recently come of age, and the only guests were the Dwarves from Gray Rock Castle.

The difference now was like night and day.

The ceremony was held in a spacious clearing in the northern part of the forest.

The area had been meticulously decorated.

The center of the clearing was covered with a layer of fine, pale green dried moss, which was soft and springy to walk on.

Above the clearing, a dome woven from vines hung down from the surrounding tree trunks, forming a natural canopy.

The vines were adorned with blooming Honeybell Flowers, their pale yellow blossoms swaying gently in the morning breeze and releasing a sweet, fresh fragrance.

Dozens of long tables, covered with snow-white tablecloths and laden with all sorts of food and drinks, were arranged around the perimeter of the clearing.

By now, several hundred guests had gathered in the clearing.

They stood or sat in small groups, conversing in low voices.

Aside from Anton and the Great Elder, the upper echelons of the Silver Moon Race had all arrived and were exchanging pleasantries with various guests.

The areas around the Second Elder and the Third Elder were especially lively, nearly surrounded by guests.

After all, the two Elders were the highest-ranking figures present, so guests who wished to build connections with the Silver Moon Race naturally flocked to them.

And beside the two Elders, an Elf Maiden with long, emerald-green hair stood quietly.

She wore a pale cyan, ankle-length robe embroidered with silver celestial grid patterns. A white ribbon was tied at her waist, perfectly accentuating its slenderness.

Her expression was serene, and she wore a polite smile, occasionally nodding to the guests. Her every movement exuded a composure and steadiness that belied her age.

”Is that the Clan Leader’s assistant, Eleanor Silver Moon?”

Not far away, a human merchant asked his companion in a hushed voice.

”That’s right.” His companion nodded, his gaze lingering on Eleanor for a moment. ”I hear she’s just over one hundred and sixty years old. For the Elf Race, that means she only came of age not long ago, but she’s already a Golden Tier Caster with a high status in the Clan.”

”Doesn’t that mean she has a high chance of awakening the Power of Law in the future?” the merchant marveled. ”The Silver Moon Race is truly full of talent. No wonder they’ve risen so quickly.”

”There’s more.” The companion leaned closer, his voice even lower. ”Look at her. She’s considered outstanding even among the Elf Race. Plus, she’s about the same age as the Clan Leader, and they work together day and night...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, but his meaning was obvious.

The merchant gave a meaningful smile. ”In that case, is it very likely she’s the future Clan Leader’s wife?”

”Who knows?” The companion shrugged. ”But I’ve heard the Clan Leader has a childhood sweetheart. They grew up together and are very close.”

”Oh?” The merchant’s interest was piqued. ”And who might that be?”

”There.” The companion jutted his chin toward a corner of the clearing. ”That one.”

The merchant followed his gaze, and his eyes froze.

By a long table in the corner of the clearing, an Elf Maiden with long, silver-white hair was sitting casually. She was holding a roasted beast leg, golden-brown and crispy, and had her head down, gnawing on it until her mouth was slick with grease.

She wore a form-fitting black hunting outfit and carried a War Axe on her back that was almost as tall as she was. Her eyes were focused intently on the food in her hands, completely oblivious to the lively surroundings.

Her way of eating had nothing whatsoever to do with elegance.

Among the surrounding guests who were raising their glasses, sipping lightly, and conversing in low tones, she seemed out of place, yet strangely at ease.

The merchant and his companion looked at each other, momentarily speechless.

After a long moment, the merchant managed to squeeze out, ”She’s... certainly true to herself.”

His companion gave a dry cough, not daring to reply.

「Time approached noon.」

More and more guests filled the clearing, and the long tables were almost completely occupied.

The sounds of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses blended together. The air was filled with the aroma of food and drink, as lively as a grand celebration.

Just then, a voice suddenly called out.

”Anton Clan Leader is here.”

The crowd quickly fell silent.

All eyes turned as one toward the entrance of the clearing.

Two figures were walking side by side from the end of an arbored path.

The one walking in front was none other than the man of the hour.

Anton Silver Moon.

He wore a moon-white robe, its surface as smooth as water and utterly spotless. The hem swayed gently with his steps, like flowing clouds unfurling.

His eyes were as calm as a deep pool, so profound they seemed capable of drawing in a person’s very soul.

His gaze swept across the crowd, neither sharp nor ostentatious, yet everyone his eyes fell upon unconsciously held their breath.

The Great Elder followed at his side, half a step behind, a faint, gratified smile on his weathered face.

”Is that the Fallen Dragon Sword Saint?”

”So young...”

”Well, Elves always look young... But I hear he’s only just over one hundred and forty.”

Whispers rose and fell throughout the crowd like the buzzing of a beehive.

Some marveled at his youth, some speculated about his strength, and others silently compared him to the legends they had heard.

But regardless of their thoughts, everyone’s gaze was captivated by that tall, slender figure, unable to look away.

Anton, as if he hadn’t heard the discussions, calmly stepped onto the raised platform.

The Great Elder followed close behind, coming to a stop at his side.

Below the platform, the Elves of the Silver Moon Race fell silent in unison, their burning gazes fixed on the tall, slender figure on the stage.

The guests also gradually stopped talking, and the entire area fell into a solemn silence.

The Great Elder took half a step forward and began to speak slowly.

”Thank you all for traveling from afar to attend the inauguration ceremony for the new Clan Leader of the Silver Moon Race.”

”Over the past century, the Clan has endured the most difficult of times and walked the most arduous of paths. But we have finally made it here, step by step, and the Clan at last welcomes its new successor.”

”Now, allow me to make an introduction.”

The Great Elder turned to face Anton.

”This is the new Clan Leader of our Silver Moon Race, Anton Silver Moon.”

Anton faced the crowd and spoke with a solemn expression.

”I, Anton Silver Moon, hereby assume the position of Clan Leader of the Silver Moon Race today.”

”From this day forward, I will lead the Clan to an even more glorious future.”

His words were brief, with no grand pronouncements, and could hardly be called passionate or stirring.

Yet these simple words made every Elf of the Silver Moon Race present stand a little straighter.

The guests also showed their respect by applauding, and the sound of ringing applause instantly filled the air.

The ceremony was not a long one.

After the short speech, Anton stepped down from the platform and began to exchange pleasantries with the guests one by one.

The Great Elder, meanwhile, stepped aside, completely yielding the stage to the new Clan Leader.