At last I reach one of the sought-after mountain ranges, located 20 km from the cave where I met the goblins, you can admire mountains that rival the heights of the coastal cities, from a certain angle I can see the top of a tower, this hidden by a spell that refracts the light, but it is not necessary to observe carefully for hours to notice that there is an indentation in the sand and that the colors are distinguished as if this were a giant bottle, Although much to my regret I must admit that none of this was what indicated that I had arrived, my beloved, that prisoner in the coffin, began to scream in thousands of languages, I have to take a few sleeping pills, because although I know they will not have much effect, I hope at least they are strong enough to let me concentrate, I do not believe that a mere optical illusion was the defense of the Alcaraz of Eternal Youth, one of the homes of the high elves.

The sweat slowly trickled down my forehead, concentration became a problem, I had to raise each of the veils of protection, which ranged from caged and starving animals, all in suspended animation, waiting for the moment when someone would violate the protocols, Among them are the mighty basilisks, up to here I can feel the acid of the jaws, the coatrices with their petrifying poisons, the harpies, some demons, it is like advancing in a tower of the old games of "chopsticks" where you have to remove the traps one by one, Some had already been activated in the past, so after forcing my mind into some I only hear a ridiculous "pfft" of an abandoned house, in other circumstances it would be ideal just to destroy this arrogant defense of the vain elves, it is built of white marble and its quality indicates how meticulously it was chosen, and how many slaves worked to achieve the perfection that only the pale features of the high elves represented, but I cannot tear it to pieces, not yet, it contains many of the codices for understanding the cursed runes that exist deeper in the earth.

When she finally recognizes me (albeit reluctantly) as her new master, the gate materializes, when I open it I can smell the flowers, a freshness not found for miles around, in the first garden where everything shimmers with a perfection that only magic could have achieved, I leave my love there, The runes of peace are still active and it seems to me that her smile, for the first time since her imprisonment, has the tones of a being more similar to the one I knew, even with the black scales on her cheeks and the fangs protruding from her mouth, she looks so peaceful that I approach to kiss the crystal that allows me to observe her, in those moments she opens her eyes and exclaims "my garden! Let me go out to play, say yes", I turn around immediately, I almost fall under the spell of the one who inhabits her body, to free her would only bring destruction, but above all it would eliminate the possibility of giving her the final rest, I put some protections and prepare to access her libraries.

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Each book is placed as it was written, many are only there as insurance for not being able to read older ones until you finish these, the walls only let you see two shelves at a time, each cover, each insurance requires a magical signature, this is not just runes of power, you have to match the magical intensity of the person who wrote it, I must say that up to this moment I am very disappointed.

Golden Leaf, Son of 'Soft Distant Breeze', is a book written 500 years ago that narrates the most important secrets related to elven culture. This is the title of the book. The first paragraph begins with an introduction to the elven culture.

The high elves, known for their cultural contributions, interacted with other races. It is important to note that this statement is subjective. The dwarves, for example, do not practice magic and instead focus on their craftsmanship. While their creations are beautiful, it is important to recognize that they are not solely inspired by the high elves.

The beings that inhabit the forests and waters and refer to themselves as elves are believed by some to be an inferior mutation. It is speculated that their long lifespans are the result of an unfortunate accident that prevents perfection from being achieved.

Therefore I consider it is useful and necessary (as research material) the enslavement of the inferior races to achieve the goals of our venerable people..."

I throw the book on the floor, it is the 200th book of the elven priests, one trash after the other, with a pompous and boring language they speak and disqualify the races because they are not as "perfect" as they are, I can't waste years reading trash like the one my teachers on the island insisted I read, I am about to tear it all apart but the castle stops me, intruders have entered, he recognizes them but not me, their destruction will have to wait until I find out what is going on.

If they are enemies, they are stealthy, none of them are magical, or rather possess magic as a weapon or armor, they are many, if I don't do something I could be at a disadvantage, but even if they are not goblins, I am not a gnoll, so I release my magic field, no more locking him up, I need manual control of the traps, while the castle supervises I use the facilities to prepare an opulent dinner, I order to clean the main room and I occupy the seat in front (as the current one has a carved wood with images of the heads of their gods and their most important kings, I force a little the substance and give them the shape of skulls, with the wood darkened by the force that I endure when receiving orders after more than a thousand years (the elves keep everything), I take a seat with my sword in my hand and nailed to the floor as a warning sign, just when the last plate is put in its place by a simple incantation of autonomy the doors of the hall are opened and enter. ... the wood elves.