Chapter 424: 41. Self-Blame (6k)
“Well danced! Well danced! I truly adore it, a reward!”
Watching the subhuman races dance gracefully, even to Fisher’s refined aesthetic it was somewhat difficult to accept, Hela, with a face still displaying hints of youth, surprisingly became excited. His tolerance for alcohol did not seem very high; given the wine in his cup did not match the potency of the future Nali Black Mamba wine, it was quite challenging to get drunk, let alone for an elf, a mythical being.
Below, the aging Xiong wiped the sweat off his wrinkled forehead and then guided Hela and Fisher’s group to their seats, right opposite Duke Chuan. He took a quick glance at Duke Chuan, whose expression was filled with helplessness, as if that emotion was contagious, mirroring the expressions of both lord and vassal.
“Duke Chuan, please be sure to grant me these beautiful dancers; I find them immensely delightful. If you have any requests, just let me know, and I’ll certainly fulfill them all.”
After the dance concluded and Fisher’s group settled down, Hela, rather displeased, gazed at the departing subhuman women below and turned to Duke Chuan with this request. Upon hearing Hela’s words, the subhuman women preparing to leave dared not move, standing in place and cautiously eyeing Duke Chuan, who was seated beside Hela.
He smiled slightly and signaled the attendants behind Hela to pour wine for him, then responded, “I have no slaves here. If you want them to accompany you, please ask them what they desire, but let’s hold off on that for now. The envoys from the Holy Realm are here to celebrate the king’s birthday; shall we discuss that first?”
Unexpectedly, Lord Shiran merely gave Hela a casual glance, as if treating others like air, and then said indifferently, “Who doesn’t know that the angels are merely here to put on a show for the birthday? In the past, it was just a matter of offering gifts and reciting blessings. Neither side cares, so why should Duke Chuan care? We can just report this to the king and others; what’s there to discuss? Hey, what do you want? Whatever you desire, I can give. Could we perhaps sleep together tonight?”
Hela didn’t focus on the faces of the subhuman women, only looking at their moth-like wings and tapir noses, waving his sleeve. With a gust of wind, he pulled out a small branch of some kind of glowing blue wood from his robe and tossed it amidst the group of subhuman women. In their terrified gazes, the branch exuded a terrifying aura, rooting and sprouting, emanating a faint metallic sound.
Then, the branch slowly began to sprout, but the result was not green leaves, but various decorative items made of precious metals, including weapons that gleamed coldly, aimed threateningly at the subhumans.
Duke Chuan took a deep breath, fully aware that the other party was just joking, and that there likely wasn’t any real malice, yet it felt exceedingly uncomfortable. He straightened up slightly, looked at those across from him, and spoke, “Lord Shiran, speak cautiously.”
Hela remained motionless, like a puppet, merely smiling and feigning death. Xiong looked at Hela; the music still played, but the atmosphere was far from the lightness suggested by the melody.
Tang Zeming Asuka, seated behind Hela, watched Hela’s youthful appearance, yet no matter how she compared him to a human child, she found it impossible. Thus, she quietly inquired to Fisher and Gouwen, “Hasn’t Lord Shiran been reincarnated? Why does he feel as if he has lived for so long? And what is with these inclinations?”
Gouwen shook his head helplessly and responded quietly, “That is reincarnation. In essence, they are the same person before and after reincarnation. Although they have no memories, the actions of their previous lives frequently resurface. Moreover, elves love to document history to record their deeds, and reincarnated elves enjoy reading to determine whether to accept those past actions.”
Upon hearing this, Hela’s expression dulled, and he lightly tossed the half-full cup of wine onto the table, producing a crisp sound. He shook his head regretfully and lamented, “Duke Chuan, sometimes I really can’t figure out what you’re thinking. You disdain the hierarchy of slaves and even scoff at the king’s established rules; now that the king is about to be reincarnated, surely old customs will become invalid, isn’t that what you desire? Yet you sit here like you’re on needles; what are you pretending for? Since you wish to discuss the king’s birthday, I won’t stop you. I am here today for serious business.”
Hela, sitting in his position, looked wistfully at the trembling non-human dancers below, unable to tear his gaze away, while Duke Chuan appeared restless, glancing around nervously, which puzzled Fisher, who had been observing quietly.
Hela supported himself with his hand and waved it, causing the metallic branches in the distance to shrink, swallowing the precious items back into the trunk.
“I have been too busy with other matters since my reincarnation and haven’t dealt with the mess left by my previous self. Now that everything is finally settled, I recall an important issue: In the four years since my predecessor’s death and my three years since reincarnation, we in the Shiran Kingdom have had one thousand six hundred twenty-two slaves secretly escape to the Chuan Kingdom. If I remember correctly, didn’t Duke Chuan have an agreement with my predecessor, one slave for one plot of land?”
“I originally didn’t intend to hold this account against Duke Chuan, treating it just as a gift for my new birth, a favor for convenience’s sake. However, I am quite displeased this time and rather annoyed, yet I could not bear to demand over a thousand plots of land in return. How about this: I’ve heard that Duke Chuan’s Prime, Xiong, intends to adopt that Deerfolk guest, Lu An, as a foster son. It’s quite embarrassing; I have yet to see a Deerfolk since my birth. Why not make a trade, Duke Chuan?”
Hela smiled and waved, causing the branches on the ground to scatter, transforming into the tips of various weapons that densely covered the ground. He rubbed his hands together, seemingly well aware of Xiong and Lu An’s situation, and spoke, “Bring Lu An’s daughter here to dance for me, and I’ll consider this matter settled. Ah, the Deerfolk, hehe, look at those little hooves and that tail, so fluffy and lovely. Once she dances, dodging those dangerous weapons, how graceful and beautiful she will be! Hurry, let her come up; I can’t wait!”
With Hela’s seventeenth mythical rank in existence, no one present could match him. The only one of comparable rank, Hela, stood frozen like a puppet, appearing more helpless than Tang Zeming Asuka beside him.
Xiong and Duke Chuan both changed slightly in color, but unlike Xiong, who dared not voice his anger, Duke Chuan seemed to come to his senses and began to digest the implications of the other’s words.
Requesting another thousand plots of land?
There was no way Xiong would agree without Duke Chuan’s decision; he immediately stood up to seek Lu An, attempting to bring Lu Ming here. However, it was clear that given Lu Ming’s timid and shy nature, it was impossible for her to dance on weapons under the gaze of a mythical being.
Duke Chuan sighed, looking at Hela as he inquired, “Why go so far, Lord Shiran?”
“Is it land you seek or slaves? Oh no, or the descendants of slaves?”
Hela continued insistently, pouring himself wine, his youthful yet annoyingly eager demeanor making Tang Zeming Asuka feel exasperated, thinking how the Deerfolk, who was already so timid, couldn’t possibly dance on swords.
“Pervert.”
She muttered, and Hela’s ears perked slightly, evidently having heard the young girl’s quiet curse. The terrifying pressure immediately spread, causing Mikhail’s cybernetic body to tense up, while Gouwen hurriedly sat up to look at Hela, who remained frozen in place, maintaining her lifeless smile like a sculpture, nearly bursting Gouwen’s blood vessels from the tension.
Just as Hela cast a fearful glance this way, Fisher, seated leftward in front of Tang Zeming Asuka, suddenly let out a heavy sigh.
“Ah.”
“…What are you sighing about, human?”
Hela shot a glance at the seated Fisher, and his initial intention to seek out the human girl for a reprimand stalled as he caught sight of the contempt carelessly revealed in the corner of Fisher’s eye. His brows furrowed slightly as he asked.
Fisher looked at him, then at the distant subhuman races, shaking his head and sighing, “Nothing much. I just felt that upon entering, I had found a kindred spirit; I wanted to converse a bit, but it seems Lord Shiran completely lacks appreciation, so it feels somewhat regrettable. I think it would be better if Lord Shiran refrained from inviting the Deerfolk to dance for the time being—better to understand your appreciation for subhuman races before extending an invitation.”
Hela was momentarily taken aback and turned around, quickly grasping what Fisher meant by “lacking appreciation.” In angry response, he rose and pointed an accusatory finger at Fisher, saying, “You say I lack appreciation? What are you even to say that? Since my reincarnation, I have seen and understood every race in my kingdom, even concerning the special subhuman races here in the Chuan Kingdom; I prepared in advance and thoroughly understood them. You say I lack appreciation?”
Fisher remained unhurried, countering, “Does Lord Shiran have sufficient knowledge about the three subhumans down there?”
“Of course!”
Fisher stood up and walked to the table despite Hela’s furious aura. To Tang Zeming Asuka, Gouwen, and Mikhail, his actions seemed like a brave attempt to shield Tang Zeming Asuka from potential trouble with Hela.
Tang Zeming Asuka bit her lip, feeling a wave of guilt, her fingers tightening on the white robe on her thigh. Gouwen and Mikhail looked on, admiring Fisher’s courage as he faced off against Hela. Only Hela smiled slightly, breaking away from his frozen facade, watching Fisher at the table, clearly pondering something.
Xiong anxiously raised his hand, and Duke Chuan glanced at him intently.
Yet, unknown to everyone, after hearing Duke Chuan’s response, a virtual subtitle gradually illuminated before Fisher, and the Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans in his arms began to heat up. Invisible to others, three new sections soon appeared:
[Tapirfolk]
[Mantisfolk]
[Mothfolk]
[Bindable Research Times: 0/1]
[Bindable Target: .]
Several names of bindable subhuman women swiftly popped up, and without a glance, Fisher randomly selected three targets to bind, filling all available slots for the three subhuman races. Before the pain arrived, he turned to Hela and said, “I’d like to hear more.”
That condescending, evaluative gaze momentarily stunned Hela in place. Although the man before him had a rank of only around thirteen, at that moment, in the realm of his interest in subhuman women, he seemed to represent authority, undeniably holding a position that could not be questioned.
He recalled when Hela had just stepped out from the massive tree of reincarnation, finding himself amidst a chaotic kingdom, with many slaves he had once oppressed fleeing, and numerous nobles abandoning him; at the time of his new birth, the peculiar subhuman race of butterfly folk had helped him, escorting him out from the sacred tree of reincarnation.
By the way, the butterfly folk in the Shiran Kingdom were responsible for documenting history.
The butterfly folk were bizarre in appearance, with wings on their backs, long antennae on their heads, and large eyes, which repelled other subhuman races and even contrasted sharply with the aesthetics of elves. Nonetheless, for some reason, this time after his reincarnation, they left a lasting impression on Hela.
Consequently, in the face of the butterfly folk’s advice on historical documentation, he unexpectedly accepted it. He indeed transformed into an elf quite different from his brutal predecessor but subsequently developed a rather peculiar hobby.
He began to focus on subhuman races that differed from traditional elven aesthetics; the stranger, the better. Of course, this divergence could also be seen as being contrasted with humanity, as elves, humans, and most subhuman races generally resembled each other in appearance.
Up until today, he had been somewhat proud of this interest, only now to have it questioned by this far-traveling guest, leaving him quite astonished and longing to immediately convince the other party to retract their claim of lacking understanding.
Hela swallowed hard, pointing at the distant subhuman dancer; first the Tapirfolk—a race with short hair covering their faces and extendable long noses, generally smaller in stature.
“The Tapirfolk—males are agreeable, females are melodious. They have grey-brown short noses on their faces and hair that covers their heads. Females come of age at fifteen, excelling in singing thereafter. It’s said their voices can lull people to sleep and erase their worries. Their adorable short noses and hair, particularly appealing to me, are complemented by a short tail that has fine hair at the tip.”
He rambled on, and Fisher remained rooted in place as the pain from binding three subhuman races surged, multiplying the discomfort thrice over. Even for someone accustomed to pain, it was somewhat unbearable, resulting in his brow furrowing slightly.
Seeing Hela talking with increasing confidence while observing Fisher’s expression grow more pained, it seemed he hadn’t heard anything close to what Hela wished. His own confidence waned a bit, yet he continued describing the characteristics of the other two subhuman races.
The Mantisfolk are skilled in hunting, robust in frame, reputed to have a strong affinity for polearms as weapons, and reportedly grow wings as they age, their figures becoming lean and athletic. The Mothfolk, as their name suggests, largely feature rather chubby female individuals, resembling those wrapped in densely woven woolen sweaters, with calmly fluttering wings that often carry moth dust to maintain moisture.
The more Hela spoke, the more uncertain he grew, as he hadn’t seen a hint of recognition on Fisher’s face; he only maintained a hint of pain, as though all he said was merely dirtying the other’s ears.
Finally, after Hela had made a stunningly astonishing exclamation about the subhuman races, everyone present returned to their senses; even Duke Chuan seemed taken aback that his neighbor, Lord Hela, had such knowledge of subhuman races.
Just then, Fisher, having endured the pain, began to relax his expression slightly. He inhaled deeply, taking note of everything Hela had shared and the knowledge of these foreign subhuman races that flowed into his mind. The Supplement Handbook for Sub-Humans in his chest also began to warm, indicating progress in his research.
However, on the surface, he merely returned Hela’s gaze and replied, “Is that all?”
Hela opened his mouth, exhaling the scent of alcohol, to respond, “…That’s all.”
“In my perspective, Lord Hela’s attitude towards subhuman races can’t be labeled as appreciation; rather, it’s merely an appreciation for their atypical features.”
“…Isn’t that incorrect?”
Hela retorted in disbelief, his tone filled with astonishment yet tinged with an unnoticeable excitement and anticipation.
Indeed, Fisher felt emboldened to directly stand and defend Tang Zeming Asuka because he had observed earlier that this elven being was genuinely interested in subhuman races—not merely using it as a pretense to make requests to Duke Chuan.
While making his demands, he had continually watched the subhuman dancers, obviously focused on specific aspects—clearly indicating his underlying interests would be revealed.
“Of course it is wrong! Does Lord Hela not think your actions are too superficial? In my view, your interest in and exploration of subhuman races is merely throwing away a watermelon to keep a sesame seed. You simply love the appearances of subhuman races while being blind to the unique intrinsic qualities formed by their peculiar physiological structures. How is that any different from liking material possessions?”
Hela opened his mouth, staring blankly at the distant subhuman dancers. It was only through Fisher’s critical remarks that he suddenly recognized the starkly different reactions emanating from the various races of subhumans before him, in light of the hierarchy and identity pressures he imposed.
The Tapirfolk flared their nostrils, their eyes darting back and forth as if they were about to faint. But surprisingly, they appeared to be in a state of constant sleepiness, their seemingly sluggish nature contrasting sharply with their actual alertness.
So bitter.
Next, the Mantisfolk stood tall, gazing proudly, their slender yet well-defined forms creating a breathtaking sight. They looked splendid from their elevated position, unbothered by the treasures and offerings Fisher had presented, clearly displaying a disdainful attitude that felt genuine.
So bitter.
Lastly, the Mothfolk appeared fluffy, many with a babyish roundness. Their wings fluttered nervously under pressure, and it seemed they were attracted to bright objects. When they previously saw the branches and metallic objects thrown, their eyes sparkled with excitement, their feet uncontrollably inching closer while foolishly struggling to remain in place.
So bitter.
It was as if a whole new door had opened before him in that fleeting moment. Hela finally couldn’t control himself any longer, withdrawing his gaze abruptly and moving from the table to stand directly in front of Fisher, grasping his hand amidst everyone’s astonished stares, sincerely asking, “May I ask, what is your name?”
Having been seized by the existence of a mythical rank, Fisher wanted to retract his hand but found himself unable to move, neither pulling it away nor releasing it.
“…”
Seeing Fisher’s struggle to withdraw his hand led Hela to mistakenly believe that Fisher detested his previous blind admiration for subhuman women, quickly pulling him back to his table and personally pouring him a drink.
“Today, your words have truly enlightened me; please don’t mind my previous directness. I am Hela, the sovereign of the neighboring Shiran Kingdom. If there’s anything you wish to know or need assistance with regarding the king’s birthday, please feel free to speak. May I ask what you are called?”
“Fisher Benavides.”
Fisher sighed, casting a worried glance toward Gouwen and Tang Zeming Asuka in the distance, concerned that this overly enthusiastic individual might affect his reputation. Yet, to his surprise, they all looked at him with admiration.
In their eyes, Fisher appeared merely as a knowledgeable scholar on subhuman races, yet in order to rescue Tang Zeming Asuka from having unintentionally spoken out of turn earlier, he had bravely stepped up, disguising himself as someone with strange preferences similar to Hela’s, thus defusing the dangerous situation.
Xiong looked at Fisher gratefully, while Duke Chuan continued watching, his expression inscrutable.
Only Hela, seated at the table, covered his belly as he stifled laughter, unable to contain his amusement at witnessing such an interesting development.
“Mr. Fisher, it truly feels like we’ve met each other too late. No rush, no rush. Previously, I overstepped my bounds; I still haven’t fully grasped the appreciation of subhuman races. I’ve been stuck on the surface, merely enjoying their charming poses. Now realizing how much I’ve missed is truly regrettable. Have you encountered other subhuman races before? Could you share your insights and viewpoints with me?”
Fisher’s lips quivered slightly under the gaze of Tang Zeming Asuka and Gouwen, who watched with concern and encouragement, along with Xiong’s appreciative stare and Hela’s barely contained laughing face. He lightly grasped the glass of sake Hela offered, watching as the ripples formed, reflecting his calm face.
No matter; since it had come to this, he could also extract more specific information about the three subhuman races from Hela to complete the research for his handbook.
Thus, he replied.
“Just a little.”
Who could have anticipated that the atmosphere in the hall would ease so dramatically, all thanks to Fisher, creating a situation where everyone was pleased?
Perhaps only Tang Zeming Asuka did not feel the same?
To her, it seemed Mr. Fisher was entirely compelled to this point due to her momentary excitement, and as she observed the others effortlessly conversing with Hela, she couldn’t help but feel guilty and uncomfortable.
This young traveler from another world bit her lip again, unconsciously gripping her robe tighter, finding it hard to look at Fisher’s expression in the distance.
Please vote, tip, and support me; it means a lot to me!
Thank you very much for your support!
()
(The End)
