Chapter 92: The Elven Relocation Campaign
Pure-blood elves with golden hair and blue eyes were exceedingly rare across the Nine Kingdoms.
Elves lived long lives, possessed naturally agile bodies and formidable talent for spellcasting, and were blessed with strikingly beautiful features. They were, without exaggeration, a race favored by the gods.
Yet they generally lived in near-isolation within the Court of the Silver Moon, seldom interacting with the outside world.
In daily life, people were far more likely to encounter half-elves, or drow from the Umbral Depths.
Cicero was a pure-blooded high elf. He had long, smooth golden hair and a slender, well-proportioned frame. Compared to other elves, however, his eyes were excessively sharp. That gaze stripped away some of the default elven elegance and replaced it with an unmistakable air of aggression.
At that moment, he was seated directly across from the Porcupine Knight, staring at the lord with his keen, cutting eyes.
Even the Porcupine Knight, who had single-handedly slain a griffin, felt deeply uncomfortable under Cicero's gaze, as though he were prey locked in a hawk's sights.
The scrutiny left him increasingly irritated. If not for the fact that these elves were dressed in the regalia of the Court of the Silver Moon, he would already have shown them out.
Now that Alkhemia had been destroyed, small lords like him had lost their patron. Offending a kingdom as powerful as the Court of the Silver Moon was out of the question. The Porcupine Knight could only seat them politely and ask, "Lord Cicero, may I ask why you have paid me a visit so late at night?"