The Elven Cultivator

Chenxi Calendar, Year 9366. Spring.

Bishui Port.

Kael led his horse through the city gate’s archway. As the shadows receded from him, the world opened up before his eyes.

A tide of human voices washed over him.

Shops lined both sides of the street in dense rows. The stone-paved road was bustling with people, and the shouts of merchants, the rumbling of carts and horses, and the CLANG of hammers from a blacksmith’s forge blended into a deafening clamor.

Kael’s gaze swept over his surroundings, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

”This city is much more prosperous than before. After the fall of Kresol Dragon City, this place has actually gotten better.”

His voice was low and hoarse, like a piece of iron scraped with sandpaper—rough and dry, enough to make one frown instinctively.

Hawke, walking by his side, let out a cold snort.

The powerfully built man was wrapped in a dark gray hooded cloak, the hood pulled low to hide most of his face, revealing only a hard-lined jaw and a strip of pale skin.

”The Dragon Race and their kin are a bunch of brainless fools. For thousands of years, they couldn’t even come up with a new trick. They made a complete mess of the continent, so they deserved to be wiped out.”

Kael glanced at him sideways but didn’t comment.

He knew full well that his companion wasn’t speaking up for the many races oppressed by the Dragon Race. He would never have such a thought.

Hawke was simply annoyed by the arrogance of the Dragon Race.

Over the years, they had certainly tried to infiltrate the Dragon Race to expand their organization’s influence, but it wasn’t just the Dragon Race—even the other members of the Dragon Race were utterly disdainful of their organization’s ideals.

They not only arrogantly rejected them but also turned around and hunted their members, causing them to lose significant manpower.

Many members of the organization, like Hawke, harbored a deep hatred for the Dragon Race.

Their organization had also fanned the flames behind the recent great upheaval that saw the fall of one Dragon City after another, allowing them to vent some of their long-held frustration.

The two led their horses onto Tide Street, moving slowly through the crowded stream of people.

Kael’s eyes fell on a vertical notice board by the side of the street.

The wooden board was painted white and framed with dark oak. At the top, written in a flowery script, were the words: ”Coral Commerce Association—New Arrivals from the Silver Moon Clan.”

Below that, dozens of product names were listed in dense text, ranging from metal ingots to potions, from Scrolls to Spiritual Ink—a vast assortment of goods.

Beside the board were several long tables laden with neatly arranged wares. A few young people were busy introducing the products to the surrounding customers, their voices full of enthusiasm.

Every so often, someone would pull out a bag of Silver Coins, press it into a seller’s hand, and walk away with their goods, looking satisfied.

Kael’s gaze lingered on the notice board for a moment before turning to the other side of the street.

The shop across the street had a similar notice board at its entrance, only the name of the association had been changed to ”Bishui Trading Company.” The content, however, was identical.

”New Refined Mithril from the Silver Moon Clan,” ”High-Grade Healing Potions from the Silver Moon Clan Now on Sale”... and so on, with no end to such signs.

As they walked further down the main street, they saw similar notice boards every few shops.

Commerce associations, large and small, were almost all selling products from the Silver Moon Clan.

Some shops even printed the Silver Moon Clan’s oak crest at the very top of their boards, in a font a size larger than their own association’s name.

At a glance, it gave the illusion that products from the Silver Moon Clan had taken over the entirety of Tide Street.

Hawke noticed this as well and frowned. ”Are the Silver Moon Clan’s products really that popular?”

They had heard the rumors about the Silver Moon Clan releasing a large number of high-quality goods and establishing trade relations with numerous factions and commerce associations, but they hadn’t paid them much mind.

But seeing it now, the popularity of the Silver Moon Clan’s products far exceeded their expectations.

The two exchanged a look, a silent understanding passing between them, and walked into one of the shops.

The shop’s interior was more spacious than they had imagined. Several Magic Crystal Lamps hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, white glow.

All sorts of goods were stacked neatly on the shelves. Metal ingots were arranged in silver-gray square arrays, potion bottles refracted amber and emerald light under the lamps, Scrolls were tied in bundles with thin string, and Spiritual Ink was stored in sealed ceramic jars with wax seals on their mouths.

Every single item was marked with its place of origin: the Silver Moon Clan.

Some even included the Silver Moon Clan’s oak crest icon.

The shop was bustling with people. A few Adventurers were haggling loudly with a clerk, their tone so urgent it was as if the items would be gone in another moment.

The two of them walked a lap around the shop, growing more astonished the more they saw.

These items were of even higher quality than they had imagined, far surpassing similar products on the market.

Many of the goods were so tempting that even they felt their hearts stir.

To avoid arousing suspicion, the pair casually bought a few things before leaving the shop.

”How does the Silver Moon Clan produce so many high-quality goods?” Hawke asked with a frown.

Kael said faintly, ”I imagine every faction on the Eldron Plain wants to know the answer to that question.”

Hawke’s expression froze. ”With their goods selling this well,” he said, his tone thick with undeniable jealousy, ”the Silver Moon Clan must be making a fortune every year.”

Kael didn’t respond to that.

His thoughts ran deeper than Hawke’s.

Trade brought more than just wealth. It brought something deeper—influence.

When more and more factions began to rely on the Silver Moon Clan’s products, when they grew accustomed to the clan’s rules of trade, the Silver Moon Clan’s position on this plain would no longer be maintained by martial strength alone.

It was a more stable, more enduring form of power.

Unlike Dragon City, which used violence to force others into submission, it could make countless factions come knocking willingly, opening the gates of the Silver Moon Forest with their most sincere smiles.

The Silver Moon Clan had achieved through trade what Kresol Dragon City had never managed, even with war.

And with better results.

”Anton is no simple man,” Kael murmured.

”He’s just some guy who got lucky,” Hawke snorted.

If it hadn’t been for Anton—he was still called Canglan back then—killing the head of the Flame Trade Association, Kresol Dragon City would never have noticed something was amiss and moved to purge them completely.

The fall of the Flame Trade Association dealt a devastating blow to the intelligence network and supply channels their organization had spent decades building in Bishui Port.

Even today, they had yet to fully recover.

That was why the two of them now had to make this trip in person, searching for supplies on the open market like common Adventurers.

Unlike before, when a single word would have been enough to have someone deliver the items right to them.

”That bastard Anton hides himself too well. If we had known he was Canglan sooner, we should have struck before he ascended to the Legendary Tier. How could we have let him have this chance to become the Clan Leader and a Legendary Sword Saint in such grand fashion?”

Hawke said, his gaze dark.

Kael fell silent for a moment.

Back when Canglan first made a name for himself on the Eldron Plain, the organization had considered retaliating against him.

But Canglan’s movements were too erratic; it was impossible to pin him down.

Even Kresol Dragon City, the local power, couldn’t find a trace of Canglan, let alone them.

By the time Anton’s identity was exposed, he had already grown to a point where even they found him difficult to handle.

Attacking Anton at that point would have come at too great a cost for almost no benefit, aside from simply venting their anger.

Considering this, the organization had no choice but to abandon the idea of revenge.

As for now, it was even more impossible.

Kael looked up at Hawke and saw the flickering uncertainty in his eyes. He couldn’t help but offer a word of warning.

”Don’t get any funny ideas.”

”Anton is at the Legendary Tier now, and this is his territory. Don’t stir up trouble.”

”If we screw up the mission the master gave us, things won’t go well for either of us.”

”...I know.” Hawke’s mouth twitched slightly. ”What can I do against a Sword Saint?”

Kael gave Hawke a long, hard look.

Of course he knew Hawke couldn’t handle Anton.

’To deal with a Sword Saint, the master would have to act personally.’

’But who knew if Hawke would lose his mind and attack the Elves of the Silver Moon Clan, carrying out some kind of pointless revenge.’

Unlike him, a third-generation Undead member, Hawke was a ”product” of the second generation.

The technology back then wasn’t very mature, and the aftereffects and side effects of the process were relatively pronounced, causing a person’s personality to gradually become twisted and insane.

Hawke was already showing such tendencies.

’I have to keep a close eye on this guy to prevent him from doing something irrational.’

’After we get back, I’ll report Hawke’s condition to the master and find a chance to get rid of him.’

Kael plotted silently.

’Falling into the embrace of death is probably something Hawke has always longed for, anyway.’

The crowds on Tide Street were still just as bustling.

By the time Kael and Hawke emerged from the twelfth shop, it was already past noon.

The expressions on both their faces were grim, their brows tightly furrowed.

They had spent the better part of the day in Bishui Port, visiting every well-known commerce association on Tide Street, yet they still couldn’t purchase enough Magic Stones.

The only two Magic Stone Veins on the Eldron Plain were now under the control of the Silver Moon Clan.

While the latter hadn’t outright banned the circulation of Magic Stones like Kresol Dragon City did—which executed offenders on sight—they also showed no intention of selling them.

As a result, the number of Magic Stones circulating on the market was still very low.

Even by paying a high price, they could only buy a tiny amount, far from enough to meet their goal for this trip.

But no matter what, the master’s task had to be completed.

”Looks like our only option is to check other towns.”

Kael sighed and headed toward the city gate with Hawke.

...

「Silver Moon Forest, the Eternal Hall.」

Sunlight slanted in through the skylights, casting a warm, golden patch on the smooth wooden floor.

The soft glow of Light Source Stones mingled with it, illuminating the entire hall brightly but without glare.

A dozen or so wicker tables were scattered about, their surfaces piled high with sheepskin paper scrolls and folders. Dense lines of text and numbers snaked across the pages like ants.

Young Elves were bent over their desks, the scratching of quill pens on paper filling the air. Occasionally, one would pause, frowning as they searched through adjacent documents or quietly asked a question of their neighbor.

Eleanor sat at the innermost table by the window, a thick stack of documents piled before her as well.

The quill in her hand moved rapidly across the sheepskin paper, leaving behind rows of neat and elegant handwriting.

Ever since Anton became Clan Leader, the Clan’s administrative affairs had been snowballing.

Their trade network had expanded from the Eldron Plain to places even farther away. New merchant caravans arrived at the Silver Moon Forest every day, and new cooperation agreements required review daily.

The construction of Taichu City was in full swing, and progress reports and supply requests were sent over from there every few days, each one needing her to verify and approve it.

The absorption of other Elf populations was also proceeding simultaneously. Envoys were sent out in one batch after another, and the information they sent back flooded in, creating a thousand loose ends in the work of settling the new clan members.

Then there was the scheduling of mining operations in the veins, the expansion and restructuring of the Forest Guard, the inventory of supplies in the storehouses, and the allocation and management of the Spirit Gathering Chambers.

The tasks came one after another, seemingly endless.

It had even affected her cultivation progress. Her Cultivation Level was still stuck at the Second-Layer Foundation Establishment, and she was still a long way from a breakthrough.

Lately, Eleanor had been considering expanding the staff of the Document Hall—now known as the assistant team.

They would need to at least double the current number of staff to match the present workload, which would finally give her enough time to focus on her cultivation as well.