Chapter 115: The Elf’s Poetry Incites a Terrifying Illusion.

Lord Hobner gripped his goblet, his expression stern and silent.

The atmosphere in the hall abruptly grew tense. Everyone else fell silent, and the more timid guests scarcely dared to breathe.

Senluo frowned deeply.

He had never expected the man who had once faced life and death alongside his father to become so inscrutable.

Money and power truly could change a person.

Ever since Senluo had entered this magnificent mansion with the princess, Hobner had not mentioned helping them once. Instead, he had invited the song and dance troupe to perform at a banquet.

In the past, Senluo would have turned around and left without hesitation.

But for the princess’s sake, he had no choice but to swallow his anger.

“Hehehe—”

A seductive laugh broke the silence in the hall.

Everyone turned in surprise toward Ximu, who was dressed in a brilliant, colorful gown. She faced Lord Hobner with a charming smile, her long, narrow brown eyes brimming with allure.

“Honored Lord Hobner, Mr. Al is the star musician of our troupe. If he remains here at your estate, we won’t be able to compete in the song and dance troupe tournament at the Festival of Myriad Wonders in the royal capital.” Ximu raised her goblet in a toast. “How about I ask Mr. Al to play one more piece to enliven tonight’s banquet?”

Lord Hobner burst into laughter. “So you’re traveling to the royal capital for the tournament? In that case, I certainly shouldn’t steal your prized musician. Very well. Mr. Al, please play one more piece.”

The host’s hearty laughter eased the rigid atmosphere in the hall. As though someone had wound them up again, the other guests resumed eating, drinking, and conversing at ease.

Most sat down with a gloomy expression and glared resentfully at the black-haired young man holding the harp.

Did that fellow think Most would not recognize him merely because he had changed his clothes?

He was clearly the detestable commoner Most had encountered in the clothing shop!

Most had been looking for an opportunity to settle the score with him, only for the man to deliver himself right to his doorstep.

So he was a musician in a song and dance troupe.

A lowborn wretch, just as expected.

His father might admire the man, but their household already employed many musicians. They hardly needed another.

If the man truly stayed, Most would make his life a living hell.

Most raised his goblet and drained a large mouthful of wine.

Shu Li glanced from side to side. He did not believe they could gloss over the matter so easily.

Lord Hobner looked like a difficult man, not someone Troupe Leader Ximu could dismiss with a few well-chosen words.

Sure enough, Lord Hobner said, “With such extraordinary skill on the harp, Mr. Al must know some Elven poetry. Why not perform a piece and allow us all to discover whether Elven poetry is truly as miraculous as the legends claim?”

The members of the troupe exchanged uneasy looks. The musicians in particular stared at him in shock.

Ximu had never expected Hobner to make such an unreasonable demand.

How could an ordinary human musician casually perform Elven poetry?

It was said to shorten a person’s life!

No matter how accomplished Mr. Al was on the harp, he was still only a human musician. He had appeared at this banquet solely to help her rescue the performance.

If his life was shortened because of this, she would never forgive herself.

“Lord Hobner, I fear your request is rather unreasonable. Everyone knows that when a human performs Elven poetry, the mildest consequence is a shortened lifespan, while the worst is death. I still need Mr. Al’s help if I am to win the song and dance troupe tournament!”

Ximu gestured toward the beautiful young women in her troupe. “After listening to music for so long, why not enjoy a different performance? The girls have dressed so beautifully. We ought to give them a chance to display their talents.”

The young women of the troupe smiled sweetly and struck alluring poses, displaying their enviable figures.

Everyone else’s attention was drawn to them, but Lord Hobner remained unmoved. His piercing gaze stayed fixed on the black-haired young man, stubbornly demanding an answer from him personally.

Senluo clenched his fists, his face ashen with anger. He hated himself for dragging his savior into this.

Had he known Hobner had become so unreasonable, he would never have come to Daoto City.

Hobner had probably already deduced that he was a wanted fugitive and secretly sent someone to notify the Hemon Knights.

Nasha’s small face tightened, her heart filled with loathing for Hobner.

According to Senluo, Lord Hobner was a Senior Great Swordsman who had once formed a formidable adventuring party with Senluo’s father.

After an accident, Hobner had left the adventuring party and moved his entire family to Daoto City, where he entered the ore trade and became extremely successful.

Senluo had brought her to Hobner this time because he hoped the man would help them reach the royal capital.

When Hobner learned of Senluo’s visit, he welcomed him warmly. To entertain his old friend’s son, he arranged a grand banquet and invited a song and dance troupe to perform.

Nasha thoroughly disliked occasions like this.

As the princess of a kingdom, she frequently attended banquets and had seen more than enough of the nobility’s hypocritical faces.

Hobner was just as hypocritical as those nobles. His smiles never reached his eyes, and he clearly harbored ulterior motives.

This banquet did not feel like a sincere attempt to welcome Senluo. It felt more like a display of Hobner’s wealth and power.

Senluo possessed extraordinary talent with the sword and had reached the rank of Great Swordsman at a young age. Of all the people who had escorted her out of the Kingdom of Pedam, he was the only one who had survived.

Could this supposed friendship have existed only in Senluo’s father’s mind?

At the banquet, she had also spotted someone she knew.

The musician performing the solo was none other than that irritating black-haired young man.

No, she should not call him irritating anymore.

He had given Senluo a high-rank purification stone and saved his life. She ought to be grateful to him.

Nasha did not want anything to happen to him.

That old man Hobner was the truly detestable one.

When was this banquet finally going to end? It was driving her mad!

Most was delighted.

He had known his father would not let this lowly musician off so easily.

Whoever performed Elven poetry would lose years of their life.

Well, well. He could hardly wait to see how this lowborn musician responded.

Ignoring Ximu entirely, Hobner said unhurriedly, “Mr. Al, I have no intention of making things difficult for you. It is simply that, after listening to your music, the headaches that have tormented me for years began to ease. It was truly incredible! I’ve heard that Elven poetry allows people to see the illusions they desire. I have always longed to experience one and have invited many musicians and bards here, but unfortunately, none of them met my standards.”

After Hobner had gone that far, any further refusal from Ilio would make him appear ungrateful.

“Elven poetry...” Ilio said with an amiable smile. “I do know how to perform it. However, everyone sees a different illusion. I cannot guarantee that you will see the one you desire.”

Lord Hobner slapped his armrest and laughed. “Mr. Al, you truly are a straightforward man! Never mind. Whatever illusion I see, I won’t blame you!”

“That applies not only to me, but to everyone else in the troupe as well,” Ilio said.

“Agreed,” Lord Hobner replied.

Ilio adjusted his posture slightly and raised a hand to pluck the strings. His unfathomable black eyes regarded the middle-aged man in the place of honor as he announced in a low, slightly husky voice, “Then I shall perform an Elven poem for everyone—‘The Maiden and the Swordsman.’”

Ximu lowered her head and slipped the blade between her fingers back into her sleeve.

The Miriya Song and Dance Troupe had never suffered such humiliation since its debut. The last man to insult her troupe was already resting beneath the earth.

Ned Hobner, was it?

She would remember that name.

Overcome with guilt, Mary whispered an apology to Shu Li. “I’m sorry, little Amo...”

Shu Li shook his head. “It isn’t your fault.”

There was no need for her to apologize.

The troupe had asked for help, and Ilio had agreed. It should have been a simple favor requiring almost no effort. No one could have anticipated that the person they were serving would be an arrogant, unreasonable brute who used his wealth and influence to force others into impossible situations.

If Ilio refused, none of the troupe’s members would be allowed to leave this mansion tonight.

This world was utterly different from the one Shu Li had come from.

Without laws to restrain them, members of the upper classes could do whatever they pleased to those beneath them without suffering any punishment.

This world was far too dark.

Fortunately, Ilio was not an ordinary human musician. Performing Elven poetry would have no effect on him whatsoever.

Even so, being threatened into playing was deeply unpleasant.

Ilio clearly felt the same way.

Shu Li understood the implication behind his words.

I can perform Elven poetry, but whether the illusion you see is pleasant or horrifying is not my responsibility.

That was Ilio through and through.

Shu Li turned toward the black-haired young man tuning the harp.

Sensing his gaze, Ilio winked at him from an angle Lord Hobner could not see.

Shu Li nodded in understanding. He raised his right hand to his chest and touched the storage ring concealed beneath his clothes.

Under everyone’s expectant gaze, Ilio’s fingertips gently brushed the harp strings. Melodious music instantly filled the hall, its notes as clear and refreshing as spring water.

His skill was even more exquisite than before, producing music beyond compare. In an instant, the souls of everyone present seemed to tremble.

“In a distant time and place,

The Bakat River flowed in silence.

A beautiful Elven maiden

Descended from the heavens upon a snow-white unicorn

And found a human swordsman lying beside the river.

The kindhearted Elven maiden

Tended the wounded human swordsman

...”

A man’s slightly husky voice began singing the ancient Elven poem. Accompanied by the exquisite notes of the harp, the song slowly unfurled a vivid scene before the listeners’ eyes.

The magic woven into the poetry opened a wondrous illusion.

Those who had never heard Elven poetry before wore entranced expressions.

Lord Hobner’s previously indifferent face abruptly froze. Unconsciously, he lowered his goblet, straightened in his chair, and stared ahead.

While everyone else was immersed in the illusion, Shu Li secretly removed a tiny seed from his storage ring and flicked it with one finger. The seed landed precisely beneath Lord Hobner’s chair.

A silent wood spell caused it to sprout and grow without soil. Within seconds, a tiny purple flower blossomed.

The flower emitted a cloyingly sweet fragrance that swiftly permeated the air and silently slipped into Hobner’s nose.

When Shu Li saw confusion appear on Hobner’s face, he knew the fragrance had taken effect.

It was a darkshade plant. When an ordinary human smelled its blossom, it stirred up negative emotions and temporarily drove them into a frenzy.

Combined with the magic of the Elven poem, it would draw out whatever the listener feared most deeply.

Lord Hobner wanted to see an illusion, so Shu Li and Ilio would grant his wish.

“...The young swordsman

Was a prince from Cecilia.

He and the beautiful Elven maiden

Became traveling companions

And embarked upon a wondrous adventure

...”

Hobner’s breathing suddenly quickened. A pitch-black cavern appeared before him, and an armored swordsman crawled desperately across the ground.

Agonized screams echoed from deep within the cavern. The swordsman crawled faster, exhausting every ounce of strength in his frantic effort to reach the exit.

But he was too tired. His physical strength and energy were nearly spent, and only his instinct to flee kept his body moving.

“Ned... Ned Hobner... save... save us...”

A companion called out from behind him. The swordsman acted as though he had heard nothing and continued forward.

Suddenly, someone seized his calf.

“Ned... you can’t escape alone... You have to take us with you...”

The person clutching his leg pleaded weakly.

“You... You were the one who persuaded us to explore this place... You can’t... abandon us and leave on your own...”

The swordsman looked back and kicked the man fiercely.

“Let go! Let go of me! You’re the useless ones dragging me down! If I’d known you were this weak, I would never have come here!”

“No! You can’t leave! Bunk is still deep inside the cavern... Aren’t you his friend? How can you abandon him?”

“Bunk...” the swordsman murmured. “He’s a Grand Swordmaster. He’ll be fine.”

They had both begun training with the sword in childhood, so why was Ned still only a Great Swordsman in his thirties while Bunk had already become a Grand Swordmaster?

Only a single word separated the two ranks, yet the difference in strength was immeasurable.

Ned envied Bunk. How could he possibly turn back to save him?

Hardening his heart, the swordsman raised his blade and stabbed the man gripping his calf.

“Aaaaagh—”

A piercing scream rang through the cavern.

After killing the man who had obstructed him, the swordsman struggled out of the cave. Blinding sunlight struck his face, forcing his eyes shut.

But Hobner, trapped within the illusion, saw the swordsman’s face clearly.

It was... him, fifteen years ago!

Hobner looked around in horror and discovered that the nightmare tormenting him every night had been reproduced in perfect detail.

Why was this happening?

Wasn’t the illusion supposed to show him something beautiful?

How could it mercilessly dig up the past he most desperately wanted to bury and force it before his eyes without warning?

Agonizing pain split Hobner’s head.

The scene suddenly shifted. The wretched swordsman was kneeling on the ground, begging another blood-soaked swordsman for mercy.

“Bunk... I was wrong! I should never have brought everyone here! It wasn’t that I refused to save them—I simply wasn’t strong enough! Truly, you have to believe me!”

The swordsman called Bunk stared at him without expression and raised his sword.

“Ned, pick up your sword!”

Ned’s pupils contracted, and sweat poured from his body.

“You fled without fighting, abandoned your companions, and murdered one of them. You have disgraced the name of swordsman!” Bunk roared. “If you wish to deny it, pick up your sword and fight me to the death!”

Trembling, Ned grasped the sword lying on the ground. He gritted his teeth and bellowed resentfully, “Who do you think you are, Bunk? You’re nothing but a commoner with a little talent! How dare you challenge a nobleman like me to a duel!”

Clutching his throbbing head, Hobner could only watch as his younger self seized his sword and charged at his former friend.

The outcome of a duel between a Great Swordsman and a Grand Swordmaster was inevitable.

Clang!

Bunk knocked Ned’s sword from his hand. It fell to the ground, and Ned’s legs gave way beneath him, sending him crashing to his knees. Yet Bunk’s sword did not stop. It thrust straight toward his head.

“Aaaaaagh—”

The terror of death tore a shrill scream from Ned’s throat.

“Aaaaaagh—”

At the banquet, the middle-aged Hobner panicked and released the same agonized scream as his younger self in the illusion. All his usual dignity vanished.

Many of the other people trapped in illusions displayed the same terror as Hobner.

Some flailed their limbs, some dropped to their knees and begged for mercy, some hurled abuse, and others wept uncontrollably.

The members of the troupe were affected the least. When they emerged from their illusions and saw the Hobner family members making fools of themselves, they stared in astonishment.

Shu Li rested his delicate chin on one hand and watched the spectacular scene at the banquet with relish.

“...Beautiful Elven maiden,

The Sword of Carlos shall fight for you...”

Ilio finished singing the final verse and slowly lowered his fingers.

The music faded, and the listeners gradually regained consciousness.

Those who had experienced terrifying illusions turned ashen when they discovered the humiliating state they were in.

After emerging from the illusion, Hobner remained seated with a vacant expression, unable to recover for a long time.

Of everyone in the Hobner family, Most had been affected the least. Although he was usually arrogant, overbearing, and tyrannical, his misconduct had never gone beyond petty trouble. He had never actually caused anyone’s death. In his illusion, he had been the one receiving a beating.

Once he recovered, he looked at the chaos throughout the banquet, then at his father, who seemed to have aged ten years. Frowning, he pointed at the black-haired young man setting down the harp and demanded sharply, “What did you just do?”

Ilio pressed a hand to his chest and adopted a feeble appearance. Panting, he said, “What... What did I do? Didn’t you see and hear it, young master? I merely fulfilled your father’s request... and performed an Elven poem... that shortens the musician’s lifespan... Cough, cough...”

He covered his mouth, hunched his shoulders, and began coughing violently.

Shu Li silently recited an incantation, causing the darkshade flower to wither rapidly and turn to ash. He then pinched his thigh hard enough to bring tears streaming from his eyes. Leaping from his seat, he ran toward the coughing Ilio.

“Al!” he wailed, throwing himself into the young man’s arms. “Are you all right... Waaah... I don’t want you to die...”

Ilio wrapped an arm around the sobbing Little Fairy. Lowering the hand that had covered his mouth, he soothed him. “There, there... I’m fine... Cough...”

Shu Li seized his hand and looked at it. When he saw the bloodstain, he let out an earth-shattering howl.

“Waaaaah! Al, you coughed up blood! Waaaaah!”

The child’s anguished sobs were heartbreaking.

Those who had intended to rebuke the musician hesitated.

Most had been about to continue questioning him, but after seeing the musician cough up blood and hearing the little brat’s heartbroken wails, he forcibly swallowed the words already at his lips.

The musician had risked shortening his own life to perform Elven poetry for everyone. What had he done wrong?

Besides, before playing, he had explicitly warned them that every person would see a different illusion. They could not blame him merely because they had seen something horrifying.

Affected by little Amo’s sobbing, the young women of the troupe began shedding tears one after another.

Mary dropped to her knees in remorse. “I’m sorry, Mr. Al. This is all my fault...”

Ximu rose and bowed slightly toward the seat of honor. “Honored Lord Hobner, please allow our troupe to conclude tonight’s performance.”

She did not wish to remain for another moment.

She did not care what status or authority Hobner possessed in Daoto City. His name had already been added to her assassination list.

Indeed, on the surface, she was the leader of the Miriya Song and Dance Troupe. In reality, she was an assassin who eliminated the wicked and punished evildoers.

These noble lords relied on their wealth and power to oppress commoners and commit every kind of evil. They all deserved to go to hell.

Originally, she had not intended to target Hobner. They were only passing through Daoto City, and she would have been satisfied with earning some money before leaving. But he had gone too far. He could hardly blame her for showing him no mercy.

After remaining dazed for a long while, Hobner finally recovered. Seeing the weakened musician, the wailing child, and Troupe Leader Ximu’s resolute expression, he ordered in a low voice, “Most, bring them one thousand gold coins.”

“Father...” Most cried out in shock.

One thousand gold coins was enough to purchase a large mansion in the heart of Daoto City. A song and dance troupe that did nothing more than sing and dance could not possibly be worth such a price.

“Go!” Hobner swept him with a fierce glare. Most did not dare argue and hurried away to retrieve the money.

“Thank you for your generosity, Lord Hobner,” Ximu said. “However... no amount of gold can restore the years Mr. Al has lost from his life.”

Shu Li sobbed even louder. “Waaaaah—Al—I don’t want you to die young—”

Hobner pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated by the child’s crying. Reaching for the storage pouch hanging at his waist, he removed an exquisite box and ordered the servant beside him to deliver it to the musician.

The servant accepted the box respectfully and swiftly brought it to Ilio.

Ilio coughed several times. Holding the box, he asked feebly, “Lord... Lord Hobner... may I ask what this is?”

“This is a treasure I obtained fifteen years ago in the Woba Grand Canyon, at the risk of my life,” Hobner replied.

“This...” Ilio said. “If it is Lord Hobner’s treasure, how could I possibly accept it?”

Hobner waved a hand. “Once a gift has been given, it cannot be taken back. You may leave.”

Since the master of the house had dismissed them, the troupe naturally had no intention of shamelessly remaining. After receiving the thousand gold coins, they packed their belongings and departed one after another.

Still sniffling, Shu Li supported the supposedly weakened Ilio and walked at the very back.

Senluo watched them leave, clenched his fists, and straightened his back before speaking solemnly.

“Uncle Hobner—”

“Senluo,” Hobner interrupted. “Do you know why I could never wield a sword again?”

Senluo froze. “Why?”

Hobner stared deeply at him and slowly replied, “Because your father, Bunk, personally destroyed the hand with which I held my sword.”

“What?” Senluo exclaimed in astonishment.

Nasha tensed and instinctively clutched the hem of Senluo’s clothes.

“It seems your father never told you what happened between us,” Hobner continued. “You know only that I was his friend, not that we later became bitter enemies. Coming to Daoto City to ask for my help was clearly a mistake.”

Senluo immediately pulled Nasha close with one hand while gripping the hilt of his sword with the other.

Hobner chuckled. “If I meant to harm you, I would have informed the Hemon Knights long ago. Why would I hold a banquet to entertain you?”

Senluo remained silent and watched him warily.

Hobner turned his gaze toward Nasha, who was dressed as a boy. “She is the princess of the Kingdom of Pedam, isn’t she?”

Senluo’s muscles tensed. Frowning, he said, “Uncle Hobner, since you have no intention of informing them, please forgive us for not remaining any longer.”

With that, he took Nasha’s hand and prepared to leave.

“Wait,” Hobner said. “Don’t you want to hear what I have to say?”

Senluo surveyed the room and noticed the guards standing in the corners. Suppressing his unease, he sat down again. “Please speak, Uncle.”

Hobner looked at him with emotion. “You are an exceptional young man. I am truly happy for Bunk. My own son, by comparison, is nothing but a worthless fool who causes trouble every day.”

The worthless fool Most glared at him, furious but too afraid to protest.

Hobner continued, “I once did something unforgivable to your father. Because of it, he ended my path as a swordsman. From that day onward, I remained a Great Swordsman and could never advance any further. It became a thorn lodged in my heart. I could not sleep at night and frequently suffered terrible headaches. Just now, that musician Al used Elven poetry to tear my old wound wide open.”

“Senluo, I wronged your father. I wronged many people,” he murmured. “But I do not regret it.”

If he had not acted so decisively back then, he would have died in that horrifying cavern long ago.

“I will send you to the royal capital,” Hobner said, looking at the astonished young man. “The present Kingdom of Dalia is no longer the mighty Dalia Empire it once was. Without my help, you will not be able to meet the queen even if you enter the royal capital.”

“Why are you willing to help me?” Senluo asked.

Hobner raised his goblet and contemplated the question. “Consider it repayment for your father sparing my life.”

Back at the small inn, Shu Li climbed the stairs with a large pack on his back and his magic staff tucked under one arm, using his free hand to support Ilio as he continued pretending to be weak.

“Mr. Al, little Amo, please wait,” Ximu called.

They stopped at the foot of the stairs and looked at her.

Ximu took the large bag containing one thousand gold coins from Bart and pressed it into Ilio’s hands.

To maintain his weakened act, Ilio nearly failed to hold it. “Troupe Leader Ximu, what... are you doing?”

“I am deeply sorry. My error in judgment caused you harm. You deserve these gold coins.” Ximu’s expression was unusually grave.

Ilio silently met her gaze. After a long moment, he said, “Since you insist, Troupe Leader Ximu, I will accept them. You needn’t feel guilty. My loss was not as great as you think.”

He accepted the money bag, passed it to Shu Li to carry, and slowly trudged upstairs.

Only after they entered their room and closed the door did they finally drop their disguises.

“Ah, that’s so heavy!” Shu Li threw the large money bag, his pack, and his magic staff onto the floor. Dropping into a chair, he rubbed his throat.

“All that wailing made my throat hurt.”

Crying and shouting like that was exhausting.

“You played your part well.” Showing none of his earlier weakness, Ilio lifted the heavy money bag with one hand and weighed it. Brimming with energy, he said, “It has a decent weight to it. Barely enough to compensate me for tonight.”