Elves. What are elves? Appearance wise, they’re just a bunch of pointy-eared hippies. Hell, as a culture, they’re a bunch of hippies. They lived in groves, forests protected and molded by magic. The elves always had a strange kind-hearted nature to them, such that they wished to share everything in life peacefully and harmoniously.

Unfortunately in the 1000-years I had ‘slumbered’, the elves took sharing everything to the extreme. The snow that constantly rained felt so odd to me. What was supposed to be a land of green became into a sea of white. Where were the mythical elven groves?

“Master…” Someone whispered to my side, but I couldn’t bring myself up to disregard or answer back. I was still too busy registering everything in my head, as I had for some time now. Perhaps it was because I was becoming senile, but then again, I was a thousand year old Archlich, one of the strongest undead that ever existed.

“Maaaaster…” This time, the person actually poked me. I looked behind me and saw the assailant, my short brown-haired apprentice-in-magic, Kendra. Recently I did some experiment which could be said to be unethical on her so now her magic level was…higher than average.

“What is it?” I asked. Funnily, ever since I did that experiment on her, she had been calling me ‘Master’ instead of ‘Teacher’. At least, she now acknowledges this master-apprentice relationship.

“Do you also hear that music?” She looked like she was trying to cup her ears but gave up.

“Yeah…it’s like…a chorus of manly men patriotically singing and urging us to take up arms against…eugh…My head...” I shook my head and injected modified mana into my earholes. I did the same for my apprentice since I didn’t want her to have strange ideas.

“Do you guys also hear it?” Kendra turned to her comrades…I mean ‘friends’, the members of the heroes’ party which was supposed to end evil or something. I wasn’t paying attention when I was hired to babysit them.

“Hear what?” The boring looking person of the group with a black hair whom I had nicknamed ‘Blackhair’ asked back.

“Hear the music! You guys don’t hear the music?” Kendra looked confused.

“You are starting to get weirder the more you hang out with our so-called ‘teacher’. I suggest you distance yourself from him,” A blonde twin-tailed girl in the party told Kendra. The identity of this person was daughter of a duke close to the King of Angolia, Aera - nicknamed ‘Sword Princess’. Her twin-tails tied with red ribbons was annoying me so I had to plot an elaborate plan to cut them off. For now, I had other problems. Namely…

“Who is in charge here? I know you monarchists practice strict hierarchy so someone here is above the others,” An elf riding on top of a large brown bear with antlers interrogated us.

“I guess that’ll be me?” I raised my hand.

“I require identification that you all are indeed the diplomats sent from the Bourgeoisiedom of Angolia.”

I stared at him for a moment before giving up trying to understand his derogatory term for Angolia. I took off a scroll from my robe and passed it to him. After giving it a quick check, he satisfyingly gave me a nod and raised his hand. Under his command, the elves menacingly pointing their halberd-staves at us lowered their weapons.

“S’tva Kiryva!” The bear-mounted elf wearing a peaked cap barked an order in Elvish and the soldiers went back into formation, marching as if nothing had happened. And I thought this place didn’t have ‘strict hierarchy’…

“I am authorized to allow you to stay in our People’s Diplomat Manor. It may be a few days until we could schedule a talk, though it may be our fault since we had already received a message from the filthy monarchists that we would be receiving guests soon,” The elf with the default pissed-off face announced, “Until then, enjoy Mososva, the capital of Sayitsi, comrades.”

Well, the elves seemed hospitable enough. I could take my time trying to absorb this new elven culture since this was still technically the elves I know. Except, they have taken sharing to a whole new meaning.

However…

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO THE GROVES, YOU…” Maven, my companion chef and undead elf, snapped and started cursing in Elven. The good thing was that the language of the elves had not changed, or perhaps that was a bad thing. I held her back as she tried to give the bear-mounted elf a piece of her mind.

“You are an elf. What is your state-approved name?” The bear-mounted elf took offense and raised his scythe towards Maven.

“I asked a question first! Where are the groves?!” She raised her arms towards the surrounding snow-covered forest.

“Druids are a rank of filths who keeps the means of magic to themselves. There was no need to consolidate the elements of the forest into smaller pockets,” The elf answered Maven.

“No way…that means that you’ve spread the groves everywhere?!” Maven protested.

Groves were pockets of forest that had a large concentration of mana. This was because of special trees that druids would plant and nurture in order to attract mana and trap them in one area. Forests with too much mana would usually mutate, which wasn’t a desirable thing especially for the tree hugging pointy-eared pseudo-pacifists.

“Worry not, comrade, for the workers have come up of a way to prevent mana from stopping the mighty green tide of revolution.” The scythe wielding elf took out a crystal and showed it to Maven. I could feel the crystal actively trapping mana. However, it felt ‘artificial’.

“However, for you to know what the groves are…You are not member of the Union, am I wrong?” The bear-mounted elf approached Maven.

“Oh, yeah? And what if she isn’t? Are you going to pick a fight with us?!” I tossed Maven to the side and moved forward towards the elf.

“Calm down, potential revolutionist. All elves are welcome to the Union. But I must register her to the People’s Registry.” The elf raised his hand, trying to show that he has no hostile intent, “It’s just odd that she would know the groves that had existed hundreds of years ago. Could it be you are one of those counter-revolutionists…”

Eh? Counter-revolutionists?

“Er…” Before I knew it, we were surrounded by elves with halberds again. My group prepared for combat until my spy master placed his hand onto my shoulder.

“Boss, I believe that Maven could handle this on her own. Trust me,” Beor whispered to me.

“Maven?” I turned to my chef Maven and she nodded back.

“I’ll go with you, but you’ll have to let the rest go. They’re not elves, and they’re also diplomats from another country.” Maven pointed at the heroes’ party.

“Good. Under the commandment of I, Commissioner Antov Treeyiski, have approved the entrance of the diplomats from the Bourgeoisiedom of Angolia,” The bear-mounted elf, Commissioner Treeyiski, announced and the rest of the elves relaxed their weapons. “Explanations must be told on how you knew of the existence of the groves. Until then, have a nice day, comrades.”

The commissioner raised his fur cap at us and left with Maven towards a large tree. In his place, another elf officer guided us to the so-called ‘People’s Diplomat Manor’, which was opposite to where Maven was going.

I looked back behind me and gave Maven a confident nod. She saw this and nodded back. She knew what I was trying to tell her.

‘Survive.’

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A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I walked nervously around the room that was given to us. It was comfortable and spacious enough to accommodate a half dozen of us. Many times, I had lost patience and attempted to burn the tree down but was stopped by my other companions.

“It’s all going accordingly well, Boss,” Beor told me the same sentence I had heard multiple times.

“What if the reason she’s not returning is because she’s dead?! Then who will cook my meals? You? Ha!” I dismissed Beor.

“That’s…actually very hurting.”

“I’m surprised you can actually be hurt.” I clicked my tongue and continued to walk around the room.

“Why not go check on the children while you’re still waiting, then?” Beor suggested. With nothing else to do but pace back and forth, I decided to just go along his suggestion. The heroes were given two rooms, one for females and another for males. The females of the party insisted because they didn’t want to be in the same room as Lard. Poor Lard.

I went out then towards the girls’ room but I saw that two of the members were already outside. It was Leyna, the blue-haired priestess of the group, and Aera, the blonde nicknamed ‘The Sword Princess’. They were outside discussing something.

“Yo. Why aren’t you guys inside?” I raised my hand as greetings.

“Ah, teacher. Get this, the elves that led me to my room were extremely rude to them especially after I told them that I am actually the eldest daughter of the prestigious House Lancel! The nerves of these plebians!” Aera stomped her feet in frustration.

“I must also express that I feel as if I am not welcomed by the elves…” Leyna muttered while looking sad.

I tapped my metal mask used to conceal my identity of being an undead Archlich. How was I supposed to explain to the two how this Union thing worked? Actually, the only reason why I was aware of this was because of a certain dragon that advocated for violent uprising against nobil…Wait.

“Teacher?” One of the two girls asked my worryingly as I stayed silent for a while, thinking to myself.

“No. It’s nothing. I was thinking about someone that I have to hunt down later. Anyways, I have a mission for you, Aera.”

“A mission! No task is too much for me, Aera of House Lancel, the Sword Princess of Angolia!” Aera boasted her chest forward and had a confident look.

“Oh, really? Then hide the fact that you’re nobility.”

“Eh?! What? No way! This is who I am!”

“If you fail this mission, some elves might try to lynch you. Nobles are the enemies of the Unionists,” I tried to make it as simple as possible to Aera.

“Gasp…So it’s like that peasant republic…” Aera muttered about an interesting place to visit. I will have to ask her for more information about that later.

“And you. The elves probably don’t like you because they worship trees.” I shrugged towards Leyna.

“Ah…That makes sense. Maybe I should spread the word of the Goddess to them…” She looked serious when she placed a hand around her chin, thinking about the best way to convert the heathens.

“Right. Just try not to start a crusade.” I waved her off and proceeded to the girls’ room. I knocked onto the door and went into the room. Kendra, the mage of the party, was drinking milk and spilt it when she saw me.

“Ah, good. You’re actually taking my advice.” I nodded my head in approval.

“Y…you idiot! I was just thirsty and that was the only thing around! Don’t misunderstand!” She was wiping her mouth with her sleeve and tried to hide the milk bottle behind her.

“How’s the mana treating you?” I inquired.

“The clown? It’s annoying me!” She pointed towards the air. I was confused at first until I realized what she meant. Temporarily, I shifted my magic understanding down to her level and saw a ‘thing’ constantly annoying her.

“I don’t understand how seeing it helps me!” She cried. It was about time for another magic lesson anyway, so I dragged her with me outside. I saw Arrowski loitering the hallway of the manor so I had him lead us to an open area for training.

“Now then…What sort of system would you like to learn?” Upon reaching an open courtyard with no one but us around, I immediately started my lesson.

“I know the Angolian system. You know other systems?” She titled her head but didn’t have any doubt in her face since she already knew I was obviously an awesome mage.

“Angolian system is too low level for the likes of you now that you can somewhat see mana. I could teach you two basic systems. Are you willing to throw away what you learn for greater power?” If my mask could shift to reflect my facial expression, it would have a sinister smile.

“O…of course!” Heh heh. Kendra seemed to be an easy person to win over when it came to granting stronger power.

“First. The Old Empire System. Dominance. YOU!” I pointed at Kendra’s clown buddy. It quickly looked at me and shivered.

‘But…’

“FIREBALL!” I opened my palm, starting a large fire. To the untrained eyes, a ball of fire just started out of nowhere and was dancing above my hands. It was hostile to everything, even to me - the caster. The fire spewed violence and anger while it hovered above my hand. I allowed the mana to dissipate and the fire disappeared.

“The second system, Pleading.” I looked around for Kendra’s clown buddy and saw that it was behind me, shivering.

“Hey. Fireball?” I opened my palm again and this time a gentler flame danced directly on my palm. It surrounded my hand, even swimming down my arm. The fire was like a guard dog – Loyal to its master, violent against the master’s aggressors.

Kendra intently observed the whole process and she took a deep breathe. She threw an arm towards her clown.

“FIREBALL!” As expected, she went for Dominance. However…

‘Heh heh…funny.’

The clown didn’t obey her and just laughed. Well, I wished I could see a laughing clown since everyone had their own unique version of the mana…

“You…YOU DARE LAUGH AT ME?!” She raised her other arm and shouted. This scared the shit out of the clown. It hurriedly appeared next to her and was raising the temperature around her palm in a hurry. A small fireball started until the clown decided to disappear.

Kendra looked at her pea-sized flame hovering above her palm and looked disappointed.

“Look at the bright side, you managed to do it in the first try.” I shrugged as I approached her.

“Tsk. I don’t understand. How does this work?”

“It has something to do with flipping dimensions like a book and them being the ones that staple the books together…”

“Hey! Teacher!” Someone called out to us and we both turned towards the owner. Kendra lost her concentration and the fire died.

“Blackhair. What’re you doing here?” I greeted the newcomer. The average-looking average boy of the heroes’ party, who was so forgettable that I dubbed him ‘Blackhair’, waved back.

“I was actually looking for you until I saw Kendra shouting at the air angrily. Is she alright? I heard rumors of stronger magic driving people insane to the point that they’ll even murder…” Blackhair worriedly looked at Kendra who had a rage-induced face.

“I wouldn’t mind murdering a certain someone for killing my fireball…” Kendra clicked her tongue and tried to start another fireball.

“What do you even need me for, Blackhair?”

“In the first place, teacher. My name is Raymond Steelhawkenheart.”

“Pfft. Even your name sounds stupid.” I quietly laughed to myself. No, actually I was laughing out loud.

“Ah…anyways, I was hoping that you’d spar with me. Since the knights of Angolia are no longer around to show me the way of the sword,” Blackhair explained.

“What about Lard? Couldn’t you spar with him?” I sighed tiredly and turned my head towards Kendra to check out her progress.

“Eh? But I need your permission first, then.”

“Why?” I looked back at Blackhair Steelwhateverhisname.

“Isn’t he your servant?”

“…He’s a member of the heroes’ party just in case you didn’t know.”

“Aaah?! I had been mistaken! I simply thought that he was your servant just like that little girl with the black dress!”

I was confused until I realized that he was referring to my former vampire thrall, Lucia, who was currently my maid (by her own choice, I swear). Usually, she resides within my shadow along with her thrall Horatio until my laziness overcomes me.

Well, I did randomly introduce him to the party but I couldn’t do proper introductions because the king of Angolia, Argo, suddenly threw a task at my face and I had forgotten about the whole thing.

“Right, then it’s a good time to ask him to spar with you. Where is he anyway?”

“I believe he’s inside the male guest room.”

With that, I left Kendra to practice magic on her own. While Arrowski was around, I dragged him along as well. He didn’t complain much since he doesn’t say much. I wanted to get him to teach Lard how to do archery, anyway.

Once we arrived at the men’s room, I knocked onto the door and barged in.

“Kyaaaaa~!” Lard shouted as he tried to cover his exposed upper body.

“What in the name of me?!” I took a defensive posture.

“Wha..what is this?! I was thinking that this type of things would only occur to a female princess!” Lard was spouting bullshit as usual.

“Why are you changing your clothes here?! The elves gave us a bathroom, you know!”

“It’s too far to walk! Just get out of here before I challenge you to a magic duel!” Lard cried as he threw a piece of undergarment at me but I had skillfully dodged this foul attack. The unfortunate Blackhair didn’t have the outstanding dodging skill that I have and was hit in the face.

Blackhair probably died because he slumped onto the floor after suffering from the biological attack. He wasn’t responding so I left him under the care of Arrowski.

“Er…once you’re done, teach Lard how to use a bow,” I told Arrowski but he stared at me. For once, on his emotionless face, a shadow loomed over his face. Sorry, no matter how much you didn’t want to, I got my own problems.

“Boss, I have bad news.” One of my companions approached me as I left the room.

“What?”

“Maven’s back and she’s got some news. It’s both bad and good.”

I asked my companion about more information but he insisted that I hear it from Maven herself. Upon reaching my room, Maven was waiting with the others.

“Looks like you’re alive. How’d it go?” I was the first one to ask.

“Right…I managed to convince them that I was…humiliatingly…a Desert Elf. Tsk.”

“Ah. Those idiots still live atop cactuses?”

“Nevermind that, I have news for you.”

Maven handed me a piece of flyer. Taking it, I could see that the Elvish alphabet had changed a bit, but the general picture was very clear to me.

“They wanted to welcome me as a comrade and for my first 'orientation', they wanted me to join a People’s Trial.”

“People’s Trial?”

“Basically, everyone judges the fate of some criminals in the court. A mob court. Normally I wouldn’t care…”

As she said that, I looked at the two pictures of men who were to be judged in a few days. One of them was unfamiliar to me. The other, unfortunately, wore the mask with my sigil.

“Boss, we need to do something. I created him so he’s my responsibility.”

“Well, it can’t be helped. Boys, we have to save…”

The stronghold’s mascot abomination. Maven’s little monster. Our favorite gorilla-thing. My fellows-at-arms understood who it was. No matter how different he was, he was still family. With a grin, I finished my sentence.

“…Ts’tsku’Rook.”

I finally managed to say his name!