After easily resolving what shouldn’t have been a problem, Roland’s mood improved.
Listening to Roland’s solution, Sif also felt uplifted.
But her good mood lasted only a few seconds before it vanished.
"Roland, I seem to have hit a bottleneck. My current Extraordinary Profession is [Elf Princess], and the next promotion route could be Elf Empress or Empress. If it’s the forr, I need to gain recognition from the Elf Sage on behalf of the tribe. If it’s the latter, I’d have to return to the Imperial Capital to ascend to the throne."
She sighed helplessly, "The war with the Oden Kingdom has already allowed to accumulate enough, but unfortunately, neither of these conditions can be t."
Indeed, it’s troubleso. Gaining the recognition of the Elf Race Sage? The elves have been extinct for many years, where can we find an Elf Race Sage?
Seeing Sif’s lancholic expression, Roland’s lips curved into a smug smile and he softly said:
"I know of a secret thod recorded in the royal Elf Race texts, which can allow us to share so knowledge and training experiences, but there might be side effects. Are you willing to try it?"
Elf Sylph’s words hadn’t been entirely said, although Roland believed it was a good thing, and believed linking two humans wouldn’t have the exclusive effects of the Elf Race, it’s still better to clarify beforehand in case there are indeed side effects.
Sif didn’t hesitate at all and nodded forcefully, "I accept."
She had much more confidence in Roland than Roland had in himself.
Although Roland often found himself drenched in sweat, in Sif’s eyes, he was almost omnipotent.
What side effects? It’s just like a doctor’s disclair before giving dicine. If there were truly side effects, how could Roland bear to let her try?
Looking at Sif’s determined gaze, Roland stopped being pretentious and said softly:
"Alright, let’s find a place similar to a sea of flowers."
Sif’s eyes lit up, and she smiled, "During the last expedition, I discovered a small valley filled with many flowers and plants I’ve never seen before. Let’s go there."
Unseen flowers and plants?
Sussex’s royal gardens have rare plants brought back from around the world by botanists, even those that only grow in tropical regions.
Sif had never seen them, so most likely they are common folk flowers and plants.
Though he internally disagreed with Sif’s judgnt, Roland chose to go along with it.
The Naless Valley is located thirty-five kiloters north of Hansa City. Sif had once personally scouted the surrounding terrain, looking for suitable spots to ambush with artillery.
This valley was also a result of scouting.
The two donned light hunting outfits, mounted their horses, and raced across the plains with the early autumn wind.
Autumn on the Hansa Plain is the best season of the year, without the scorching heat of sumr or the chilly cold of winter.
Although the weather is nice now, it was awful throughout the spring and sumr, leading to many fields having poor or even no harvest.
As they rode past the fields, seeing several farrs handling crops with blank expressions, Sif paused in silence and suddenly asked:
"Roland, with the tax collection season in October approaching, these farrs don’t look like they can pay taxes. How should we collect this year’s tax?"
Indeed, a good question and an excellent impromptu test.
Roland withdrew his gaze and calmly asked back, "What do you think?"
"If it were up to , I’d rather not collect their taxes. I’ve heard tax officers are very strict, and I’m afraid they won’t fare well this winter."
Strict? Roland thought internally, Sif clearly doesn’t understand the harsh reality.
In the past, the Three Overseas Provinces implented a tax farming system, where tax rchants and tax officers were not just strict, they were downright ruthless, as long as the fixed tax amount could be collected.
They would rcilessly squeeze the last drop of oil from the farrs. It would be rciful if these farrs could even survive until next year.
"Then we won’t collect taxes and will send people to every village to notify everyone, ensuring no one exploits this loophole."
"Ah, is that really possible?" Sif looked at Roland in surprise, her eyes filled with doubt.
She hesitated for a mont but still softly said, "Teacher Wald ntioned that paying taxes can give the people a sense of belonging and is a way to remind them of who their lord is."
From a feudal lord’s perspective, Wald’s view is quite correct, but it still made Roland’s brows furrow slightly.
He pondered for a mont, then slowly said, "Tis change. Although we’ve acquired a lot of food, this year’s poor harvest is far worse than I imagined. Only through reasonable distribution can we ensure everyone survives the winter. Inevitably, tax collection would lead to significant loss, causing many to starve through winter."
"Having large-scale starvation in the region would significantly damage our reputation."
When Teacher Wald’s views conflicted with Roland’s, Sif indeed felt a bit confused, but she quickly made a decision.
Listen to Roland.
Teacher Wald indeed knows a lot, but the achievents Roland made were sothing Teacher Wald couldn’t.
Wald is an excellent official, but Roland, who prefers to avoid responsibility, is not that.
But Roland has opened a door to a new world for her.
"Alright, I’ll follow your lead!"
Seeing Sif’s clear eyes, Roland nodded in satisfaction.
Sif is not yet deeply contaminated by this world. A blank slate has its advantages, at least there’s no need to erase incorrect content first.
Skipping over the topic, the two accelerated their journey.
Soon, guided by Sif, Roland arrived at the Naless Valley.
Leaving the horse outside the valley, Roland carefully set up a few traps and warning devices, drew his pistol, raised the shield, and walked into the valley.
It wasn’t that he was paranoid, but that’s just how his travels went; nothing happening was the exception rather than the rule.
Sif did not think Roland’s caution was misplaced.
Having encountered werewolves while moon-gazing and tree demons in valleys, it was prudent to be cautious.
She deftly assembled the three segnts of her long spear and followed behind Roland.
As they walked into the valley, Roland looked at the lush green grass and vibrant flowers, and was stunned.
This place was sowhat akin to the dreamlike flowers, with a central tree surrounded by flora, but no other trees.
Upon closer inspection, Roland felt a bit disappointed.
The Elf Race’s flower sea differed from a normal flower sea.
In truth, the Elf Race’s flower sea was a living entity of flesh and blood; the flower sea itself was the central tree, and the surrounding flora were symbiotic.
Though the flowers of the Elf Flower Sea were vibrant, they were all red; when the stem was cut, it bled rather than seeped juice.
This was clearly not the case here.
The flowers in the Naless Valley Flower Sea were multicolored, with reds, yellows, greens, pinks, and purples.
Although early autumn still saw a carpet of flowers, which was a bit strange, it was not a big deal.
Roland decided to establish a connection first, then collect plant specins to study.
Following Roland’s instructions, the two reached the central tree.
Sif looked up and exclaid, "This tree resembles a ginkgo, but it isn’t."
"Ignore it, let’s complete the ritual first."
Roland went over the ritual process once more, while Sif cald herself, slowed her breathing, and steadied her heartbeat.
She cleared her throat and began to sing.
The first part of the ritual required chanting an ancient poem using the poetic thod of the Elf Minstrels.
Considering his disastrous singing, Roland delegated this task to Sif.
Her hair casually draped over her shoulders, Sif stood barefoot on the grass, arms outstretched, her gaze flowing, her voice resonating throughout the flower sea.
As Sif sang, the flowers in the sea seed to be swayed by the wind, gently swaying.
Roland looked around at the plants in surprise, his mind puzzled.
Could these plants understand as well?
No ti for doubt, Sif had finished singing and awaited Roland to continue the ritual.
Roland stepped forward and recited a few lines of poetry.
Oddly enough, when reciting poetry, his voice had a rhythm and power comparable to that of a minstrel; at least it wasn’t unpleasant, though singing was another matter altogether.
After reciting, Sif opened her eyes and both simultaneously bit their fingers.
Their fingertips touched, exchanging blood.
What was supposed to be a simple ritual felt electrifying as their blood made contact; their eyes glazed over and bodies froze.
The sea of their consciousness flooded with myriad mories.
The rise of the Elf Race, the glorious past, the decay, the downfall.
History and knowledge not recorded in tribe records flooded their mories.
They opened their eyes simultaneously.
They didn’t speak, but they understood clearly.
They once belonged to the Elf Race.
The Nether River’s cycle could annihilate mories, but it could not erase the imprint deep within their souls.
This was why they could activate the hidden extraordinary professions unique to the Elf Race.
The day of return was near, distant tribes would return, and forr champions would awaken.
It turned out they were a part of the return.
The fingertips slowly parted and the electricity faded. Sif remained silent for a long ti, and then softly asked, "Are we elves or humans?"
"Elves are humans."
Roland calmly replied, "We are both elves and humans, it’s that simple."
Sif froze for a second, a smile brighter than the flower sea blood in her dimples, and the entire world lit up with her smile.
All at once?
Indeed, a Roland-style answer.
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