CHAPTER 81: ELVEN ENCOUNTER (1)

Idris rubbed his temples. Earlier, the moment his energy touched the protective dome—similar to the kind druids naturally had, though this one was far thinner—he’d been struck by something that felt like lightning. His whole body had jolted, his ears still ringing.

This wasn’t the first pregnant druid he’d examined. None had ever resisted this fiercely.

Whatever was different about this one, even he—famed for being able to see every detail inside the human body—couldn’t pierce the druid’s womb shield.

"There’s no need to continue, sir," Gara said, snapping Idris out of his thoughts.

He knew the system’s defenses couldn’t be breached. And if someone did manage it, that would only mean trouble for him.

"Sir Idris, do you at least know if my twins are healthy? They should be, right? You can still tell without seeing directly... can’t you?" Gara asked.

The elf cleared his throat and nodded. "They’re fine. However... there is something unusual, and it makes me want to examine further."

Panic flickered in both Gara and Wina’s eyes.

"It’s not something bad," Idris quickly clarified. "I simply don’t know what it is. But judging from your body’s condition and your pulse, you should be perfectly fine."

Gara let out a small sigh of relief. Probably something system-related,

he guessed, though he had no idea what exactly.

Wina, however, still looked uneasy.

The rest of the conversation turned to practical matters—what Gara should and shouldn’t do, the right foods for pregnant mothers, and other care advice.

After nearly an hour—most of it filled with Wina’s questions—the examination finally came to an end.

"I’ll come check on you again next month," Idris said as he stepped out of Gara’s room, followed by Wina and Gara.

The healer would be leaving that very night; the carriage he’d arrived in still waited outside.

As Idris stepped out of the weathered bamboo house, his gaze landed on a young elf seated in a rattan lounge chair.

"You..."

Fian turned, meeting the eyes of the older elf who shared the same pointed ears as him. But while Idris’s expression carried a strange agitation, Fian’s face remained unreadable.

He seemed more interested in the carriage, the horses, and the driver waiting in the yard beyond. Gara had tasked him with making sure the driver received water and more importantly, that he didn’t step foot inside the yard.

"So you were the ones who saved him..." Idris’s voice was heavy with emotion.

"He wanted to come with me," Gara replied, assuming the healer was talking about the incident at the slave party.

"I knew there was an elf among the victims," Idris murmured, "but I didn’t know he would be this young."

His tone carried a deep, aching sorrow.

Wina, Gara, and Fian could only watch him in silence.

Idris approached Fian and extended a hand, but Fian quickly stood, avoiding it.

"I just want to check your health," the older elf said.

Fian glanced at Gara, as if asking for permission. Gara gave a small nod.

Finally, Fian sat again, allowing Idris to take his wrist. Wina and Gara also sat in the other chairs, watching quietly.

Idris examined Fian’s pulse—and for reasons none of them could guess—his eyes suddenly glistened.

Everyone stared in confusion.

The healer released Fian’s hand and turned to Gara. "Thank you... for taking good care of him."

"His name is Fian," Gara replied with a slight nod, unsure how to act in the moment.

Idris let out a deep sigh, his gaze shifting to the dense, shadowed trees beside the house.

As an elf, his senses were sharp. He instantly noticed the contrast. The world outside the yard was brimming with life: insects, small animals, the constant quiet rustle of nature. But inside the yard... there wasn’t so much as an ant.

Once again, he chose to ignore the strangeness. It wasn’t his concern.

His mind was far away, filled with thoughts of the hardships his people had endured.

When he spoke next, it was deliberate, not a slip, but something he wanted the young man to hear.

"Elves usually remain within their communities and are not allowed to meet other races until they’re at least fifty years old. Anyone younger is considered an elven youth and is always protected by other elves."

Fifty years? For humans, that would already be old age. But for elves who lived hundreds, even thousands of years, it made sense. Still... Fian was only twenty. Was that why Idris seemed so emotional? Because he saw an elf under fifty living among humans?

Gara’s thoughts were answered when Idris continued.

"Even now, when we no longer live under the blessing of the Tree of Sacred, we still protect our younger generations. But lately... there have been many terrible incidents involving small groups of elves. And the victims..."

His voice grew heavy. "...are young elves who should still be under the protection of their elders."

The old elf brushed away the moisture gathering in his eyes. He didn’t say it outright, but lately, more and more elves had been taken as slaves.

Under the dim light, Idris gazed into hazel eyes that looked almost dark brown here, his expression open and pleading.

"I hate seeing someone this young go through so much," he said softly. "I can tell he trusts you deeply. I hope you’ll keep treating him this well... for as long as you can."

Gara didn’t take offense. Even without the details, he knew Idris had witnessed countless tragedies among his people. Fian was just one case among many.

"As long as Fian wants to stay with us, I’ll treat him like family," Gara said firmly.

The deep lines on the older elf’s face softened into a faint smile. "Thank you. I wish every elf who’s suffered misfortune could meet people as kind as you."

Idris reached into his pouch and offered a coin to Fian, but the young elf refused.

"Then I’ll bring you something more fitting for your ice-based Talent," Idris promised, with a kind smile.

...