Chapter 140 : The Elven Tribe
Chapter 140: The Elven Tribe
It truly wasn’t that Mitia had intentionally deceived them — industrial development inevitably caused environmental pollution. Otherwise, how had the “foggy city” of her past life come to be? By the time she had died, even the fish in the river were inedible.
It wasn’t just about cutting down trees — mountains had to be blasted open for mining, rivers dug for water. As industrialization advanced and warfare technology piled up, the chemical industry’s share would only grow heavier.
And chemistry, precisely, was the field most prone to causing pollution. How could she possibly manage that?
Of course, importing was an option — but import and export trade couldn’t possibly bring these materials all the way to the Federal rear. Otherwise, the cost would be horrifyingly high.
Moreover, as the ruler of a great Federation, she had neither the time nor energy to monitor such issues constantly. What she wanted was the result, not the process.
If the Elves could join the Federation, they would be free to fight for their own rights — no one would stop them. Anyone who dared interfere would be “invited for tea” on the spot. Equality — that word wasn’t just an empty slogan in the Federation.
As a multi-ethnic collective, failing to ensure equality among the races was equivalent to burying a landmine under one’s own foundation.
Mitia had also explained this reasoning to the leading Elf. The principle was simple — she could respect their ideas, but only as an individual. As for how the Federation as a whole operated, she would not interfere.
At most, she could promise protection for a few great forests and limit sewage discharge.
‘...I must return and gather the other tribal leaders to discuss this matter.’
Hearing her words, Mitia nodded. “Our Federation is a large collective. When you walk around outside, you’ll see residents of all kinds of races. They can prove that my words are not false.”
‘Mm...’
She glanced at the little Pixie crawling around in Mitia’s palm and smiled. ‘You seem to like this little one very much?’
“I do. She’s so adorable.”
The Elf sighed. ‘The elemental density on this subcontinent is far too thin — especially rare elements. Otherwise, they could actually grow to the size of an infant.’
Mitia didn’t respond — nor did she care to. The problem was unsolvable, merely something to sigh over.
The Elven envoys came quickly and left just as fast, leaving behind a little one to stay with Mitia.
Mitia immediately introduced it to her now fully-grown orange cat. “Doubao, come meet your new friend. You’re not allowed to eat her, okay?”
As she spoke, she lightly tapped Doubao’s forehead. The Pixie lay atop her head, clutching the edge of her crown with tiny hands, peering curiously down at the cat below.
The Pixie didn’t have a fleshly body — they were more like condensed elemental beings. The cat couldn’t hurt her, but a warning was still necessary. After all, cats were extremely curious creatures.
Mitia had allocated them a large transport airship to carry them back toward their homeland — and also to help her remember the route.
Pafra, the leader of that group of Elves, sat on a seat gazing at the misty clouds outside the window, a faint worry flickering in her blue eyes.
At first, she had thought both sides stood on equal footing in diplomacy. But the instant she saw this enormous airship, that notion vanished completely.
All living beings in this world followed a single rule —
Equality only existed when both sides held equal strength. Otherwise, it was merely one side’s wishful thinking.
Whether it was national strength or individual power — one side had to match the other in at least one aspect.
Yet it was clear that the Elves of the subcontinent could not achieve that. This airship currently carried passengers, but if the talks failed... the next time it appeared, it might be loaded with weapons instead.
And from such altitude — they had no means of defense.
After over a week of flight, the airship arrived at the outer edge of their forest with hundreds of times the efficiency of their previous journey. Guided by them, it flew deep into the woods.
It was only when they reached a certain point above the forest that they were told to stop — the airship slowly descended to about two hundred meters.
A few Elves spread elemental wings and flew down, chanting spells midair to open the barrier — also signaling to those within that they had returned. Soon after, two Elves began to guide the airship forward.
In truth, such guidance was hardly needed, for the giant tree towering over two hundred meters was visible to anyone with eyes.
Inside the airship, Pafra closed her eyes. Her spiritual power stretched out like a familiar tentacle, easily locating the brightest cluster of spiritual energy.
Outside, the branches of the massive tree began to shake. Countless twigs wove together, forming a broad, flat platform made of branches and leaves — a landing site for the airship.
Pafra introduced softly, “The Tree King is the leader of our Elves.”
The Federation soldiers aboard were all wide-eyed in awe at the towering ancient tree. Even as they marveled, they activated magic arrays to inject water into the tanks, while the airship’s 360° directional thrusters adjusted for a gentle descent.
During this, countless glowing dots appeared around the tree, rushing toward the airship. Upon closer look — they were innumerable Pixies, fluttering curiously like tiny bees around the massive vessel.
More and more Elves gathered around as well. Their appearances were similar — all of them female, with no males among them.
Among them were also deer-like creatures, who craned their necks curiously at the sight, occasionally lowering their heads to nibble at leaves — only to be swatted by a branch, and after a while, they would nibble again.
Through the observation devices onboard, one could see wooden houses of various designs spreading outward from the giant tree’s base. On the tree’s other branches stood different kinds of structures.
Clearly, they lived symbiotically with the tree. Each Elven tribe had its own Tree King, and their strength was not weak. They lived in seclusion purely out of habit.
They nurtured nature, cultivated and tended to life within the forest, maintaining its ecological balance.
And in turn, the forest provided for them — its resources distributed equally among all, so that under its care they could all grow healthily. Living deep within the forest also spared them from most dangers.
If not for the terrifying rate of deforestation that industrialization brought, the Federation would likely never have found these woodland Elves.
The Elves descended from the airship in turn. The Sergeant Major, as the Federation’s representative, also disembarked — standing rather uneasily upon a branch. He glanced around, only for a flash of green light to appear before him.
A barefoot little girl with a wreath of branches and flowers on her head floated before him, her emerald eyes blinking. “Human? You’re weak.”
The Sergeant Major: “......”
“Ahem... this is our Tree King. She’s still very young — not even five thousand years old yet, so she looks small,” Pafra hurriedly explained.
“Five thousand...”
The Sergeant Major’s mouth twitched into a forced smile as he extended both hands. “Greetings, I am the special envoy sent by the Seris Federation, here as a neutral observer to attend your tribal council.”
The Tree King shook her head. ‘You... not acceptable.’
“Eh?”
‘Union... possible. But your Empress must speak with us. Mmm... with us.’
As she spoke, she pointed to herself.