Unlike the scenes at human ports, Mislanda Port in the Elf Kingdom was not as bustling as Lynch had imagined. However, compared to the peace and harmony of the Heather Holy Land, this port seed more vibrant.
And this vitality ca from the various ships docked in the port, which were actually more nurous than usual. News of Salantir being attacked by undead armies had spread through the mariti trade routes to several human countries. In the human mindset, war can bring wealth, especially when the battles occur in other countries. Not only Haisas, but even Yim and Holy Pate had sent ships to this port. They brought countless fruits, grains, various dications made by Rangers and Witch Doctors, or fine healing potions from temples. However, the most common commodity here was human lives.
This was because rcenaries could be seen in all the taverns on the wharf. Even in the brief ti that Lynch and his companions moored their ship, more than a dozen human rcenaries passed by them. But unlike other places, in the Elf Kingdom, it was difficult for human adventurers to find suitable work. And with the end of the war, such opportunities beca even scarcer.
"Such a variety of people," Lynch lowered his hood to cover his face. His mage robe served as a dangerous symbol, warning off all unfriendly gazes. After all, a human who could secure passage on an elf ship from the inner regions of Salantir represented a certain status in the Elf Kingdom. And this disparity could potentially cause trouble.
Although there was no class distinction in elven society, they still harbored strong repulsion towards other races. This pride and stubbornness resulted in many rcenaries being unable to enter the inland of Salantir, leaving them idle at the port. So managed to withdraw in ti and seek new sources of inco, but so humans couldn't even leave. If it weren't for the constant patrols by the elf guards, the pressure of life here would have turned it into a chaotic battlefield long ago.
"Soka, put away your wings." Zilvra deliberately teased the little angel: "Be careful, lest the bad guys roast and eat them."
Soka looked at Zilvra half-believing, then turned his gaze to Lynch. After the mage nodded, the little one hugged the white tiger in his arms more tightly, looking as if afraid it might be taken away.
Three elves approached, easily recognizing the symbol on the white ship Lynch was aboard. Only ships erging from the Heather Holy Land would have both the moon and the tree carved on the bow. They likely guessed Lynch's identity, or perhaps it was rely out of habit to welco distinguished guests, and one of the elves half-bowed to Lynch. Although the mage quickly stopped this gesture, it was still witnessed by people idling around the dock.
"Did you see that, the guy in the black robe over there." A sailor, chewing on a tobacco root, said to a young sailor scrubbing the deck before him: "Such a young lad, pretending to be a mage, and yet the elves bow to him. Hmph! It seems a thousand years ago the elves didn't join the war, didn't suffer losses, and naturally want to curry favor with those tricksters."
Even though the distance was a bit far, Lynch could still catch so words. However, he rely handed the rope to the elf in front of him, entrusted them to return the ship, and then proceeded towards the market with Zilvra and Soka.
Lynch had long beco accustod to the common people's poor perception of mages. Alone, he was powerless to change this situation, so he chose to ignore it.
"There are really too many people here. Where should we find a place to stay?" Zilvra, holding Soka's little hand, said: "I hope there are still vacant rooms at the inn."
"I don't expect to find a cheap place; now we can only try our luck at the most expensive one." Lynch said: "There should be inns run by half-elves in such a port. They are also the only race here qualified to build tall buildings."
"Why is that?" Zilvra asked: "Is it because the elf clan feels sorry for their blood relatives?"
"No, it's because of land rights." Lynch shook his head: "Although elf laws are not as precise and perfect as human ones, most of the ti, gentle morals are enough to maintain the entire society. But in Salantir, there is such a rule: an elf's land belongs only to a soul with elven blood. The half-elves here have rely gained such benefits from their elf parents. And the elves haven't been enthusiastic enough to open inns here just yet."
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