Chapter 466: The Resistants Gather

Iron Axe Town.

This was a small town within a small southern kingdom. The town was not large, its name couldn't even be found on a map.

Iron Axe Town sat at the edge of the Quiet Forest. The forest teemed with many kinds of magical creatures that frequently surged out to attack nearby villages and towns.

As a result, the Adventurer's Guild in Iron Axe Town perpetually had a large number of commissions posted for exterminating magical creatures, ranging from driving out forest rat swarms to clearing out Gnoll nests, with bounties ranging from a few silver coins to dozens of gold coins.

It was these commissions that supported the livelihoods of the local adventurers.

In the evening, the guild hall was filled with the warm glow of the fireplace, the flames dancing merrily in the hearth. Adventurers sat scattered among the oak tables and chairs, counting their day's wages. In the corner, a table was engrossed in a card game. At the very center of the hall, a high, burly man was animatedly recounting his glorious feat of clearing out a Goblin nest.

This Iron Axe veteran was a well-known figure here. The few people gathered around him listened with rapt attention.

"Little Alvin, don't you believe me?" the burly man said with a laugh, noticing the boy's expression.

"Mind your own business, Mc..." the boy retorted, but his attention was elsewhere.

As the adventurer had said, this half-elf kid named Alvin had lived in Iron Axe Town for a while now.

He had grown up listening to the adventurers' stories. He idolized these men and women who walked the edge of danger, dreaming of one day becoming one of them.

Many adventurers in the guild hall were familiar with him. They would often tease him or share their tales.

One adventurer laughed, "Hey, kid, wait another two years, and I'll take you out on a job. Show you what real magical creatures look like."

A couple of years ago, some adventurers would still privately sneer at this half-elf brat, calling him a short-lived thing who wouldn't live past thirty. What was the point of all his effort?

But those kinds of idle remarks were never heard in this guild hall anymore.

Because of the man.

The big, burly man at the table was teasing the boy, "Wait until you get into the forest and see a real magical creature. I guarantee you'll wet your pants from fright."

"I will not! I'm super brave!" Little Alvin puffed out his chest defiantly.

"Heh, saying you're brave doesn't count. When you see a real monster, your legs will go weak and you won't be able to run..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the doors of the Adventurer's Guild were pushed open, and a figure walked slowly inside.

Everyone looked at the newcomer, and the hall instantly fell silent.

Legolas Silverblade, the half-elf ranger.

He was the reason they no longer dared to speak ill of half-elves.

He had come to this town and settled down two years ago. No one knew his origins, and no one knew why he had chosen such a remote border town to make his

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He simply lived quietly, occasionally appearing at the guild to take on a few commissions, and then, under the eager gazes of the onlookers, returning laden with his prey.

From then on, a legend of a powerful ranger spread among the adventurers.

It was said he could single-handedly... his movements as efficient as harvesting crops... clean and swift.

Legolas walked straight to the counter.

The others noticed something different about him today. A faint, cold aura seemed to cling to him, starkly contrasting with the plain cloth he wore.

He stopped in front of the counter.

The woman behind the counter, Catherine, was startled for a moment before quickly composing herself.

She deftly untied the bundle he placed on the counter.

A gasp rippled through the hall.

"...These are..." Catherine's voice trailed off in shock.

"He took all of them down by himself?"

"As expected of the great ranger..."

Looking at the pile of Gnoll heads on the counter, the adventurers exchanged glances, seeing awe and disbelief in each other's eyes.

These Gnolls dwelled in the Death Swamp, far from any village, and were the most troublesome targets for bounty hunters. A single Gnoll was enough to make a team of experienced adventurers think twice.

Yet this man had brought back a dozen or so of their heads.

Catherine suppressed her shock, counted out a handful of gold coins from the money box, and put them into a leather pouch, handing them over with both hands.

"Mr. Legolas, here is your bounty. Please confirm."

"Thank you."

Legolas took the money pouch, gave it a brief glance, and casually tied it to his waist before turning to leave.

"Uncle Legolas!"

Little Alvin squeezed through the crowd to stand before Legolas, looking up at him with sparkling eyes filled entirely with reverence.

Legolas saw him, reached out, and gently patted the boy's head. "You little rascal, why aren't you at the blacksmith's shop? What are you doing here again?"

"I want to become a great adventurer just like you, of course!"

"...Great, huh."

Legolas murmured to himself, said no more, bent down to pick up the boy, and strode out of the Adventurer's Guild doors.

"Where are we going?" Little Alvin asked, wrapping his arms around Legolas's neck.

"To your place for dinner. Your father has something to discuss with me."

"Great!" the boy cheered.

Legolas set him down and let the boy hop and skip ahead to lead the way.

The rays of the setting sun spilled down, coating the two of them in a warm, golden glow. Occasionally, passing townsfolk would nod greetings to Legolas, and he would return them with a faint, polite nod of his own.

Before long, the two arrived at the blacksmith's shop.

As soon as they pushed open the door, the aroma of roasting meat wafted out.

Odrik was standing by the fireplace, tending to the food. Seeing them enter, a hearty smile spread across his face. "Here you are? Perfect timing, the food is just ready. Come in, come in, have a seat."

Legolas nodded in greeting and walked in.

They all sat down around the table.

The meal was simple, but the atmosphere was warm and harmonious. Little Alvin ate with his cheeks stuffed full, while Legolas and Odrik drank and chatted.

Odrik had become the only true friend Legolas had made since he first arrived in town.

Even during this time of year, when the Magical Tides would rise just as they had in previous years, it was Odrik who would quietly help him out.

The candlelight flickered gently on the table.

After dinner, Martha cleaned up the dishes. Odrik patted his son's head. "Alvin, go play in the courtyard. Your dad and your uncle have some things to talk about."

Though a bit reluctant, Little Alvin was well-behaved and nodded before running off.

Left alone in the blacksmith's shop, the two men fell into a brief silence.

Legolas picked up his teacup and took a sip. "So, what did you want to see me about? Did you find out about that matter?"

Odrik shook his head. "No. But something else happened." He paused, then said in a deep voice, "There's news from the north. The bounty on your head has been lifted."

Legolas's movements suddenly froze. "Why?"

He knew his crime was no small matter.

Two years ago, he had shot and killed Aldric Wayne, an earl of Lothlorien, in broad daylight on a street.

That earl had publicly been Lothlorien's most enthusiastic "benefactor of half-elves." Under the guise of sheltering half-elf orphans, he had built several "sanctuaries" on the outskirts of the city, claiming to provide food, education, and a future for homeless children.

Countless half-elves were deeply grateful to him, and some even wrote letters calling him the "Friend of Half-Elves."

But once those sanctuary doors closed, no child could ever freely enter or leave again.

The children would have their hair cut, be given identical linen clothes, and be locked in low-ceilinged workshops, laboring day and night. Some were sent to mines, others to textile mills. The older ones were secretly sold to manors further south, traded back and forth like goods.

After Legolas discovered all this, he waited for the earl to go out, then on the streets of Lothlorien, he drew his bow and shot him dead.

Why would he kill a nobleman? Lothlorien could not have been unaware of the inside story.

But no matter how despicable Aldric's deeds had been in life, he was still a nobleman, standing on a step of the law higher than any half-elf.

And a half-elf's blood debt against a nobleman could never be forgiven.

If his bounty had truly been lifted, then something must have happened in Lothlorien that he didn't know about.

"I can't hide this from you; you have the right to know." Odrik sighed, took out a rolled-up newspaper from his chest, and handed it over.

Legolas took the newspaper and unrolled it to look.

He had assumed it would just be a brief news summary from the Royal Capital of Lothlorien. But his gaze suddenly stopped when it landed on the headline of the front page.

He was drawn to the picture.

It was a portrait of a somewhat... fleshy half-elf.

Legolas slowly looked up.

It was a long while before he finally raised his head.

Odrik said in a low voice, "That is the current leader of the uprising. They're calling themselves 'the Resistants.' This time, they've seized several cities in the south, and the whole kingdom has been thrown into chaos. They've taken control of the royal capital."

"Tomorrow, I'll leave," Legolas said calmly, tucking the newspaper into his chest.

He then unbuckled the heavy pouch from his waist and handed it to Odrik. "Take this for now. If I don't come back..."

Odrik shook his head, refusing it. "You keep it. I don't need it."

"I know." Legolas said nothing more, just put the pouch away.

Looking at him, Odrik said softly, "Your time... is running out, isn't it?"

Legolas nodded, not denying it.

Odrik looked at him, and after a long silence, asked, "Do you really have to go?"

"Look, they're talking about..." Odrik started.

Legolas cut him off, "I know what they might say."

"I could have chosen to stand by back then," Legolas said, his tone flat.

"Even if I die there," he continued, looking at Odrik, "it's because I chose to go."

"Then die there, if you must," Odrik finally said, his voice heavy.

"You know, that place..." Legolas trailed off, shaking his head. "What I do isn't for anyone's approval. I just speak for the justice I believe in."

Odrik knew he couldn't persuade him, so he simply said, "Stay the night, then leave in the morning."

Legolas nodded, not refusing.

Soon after, Martha and Little Alvin returned.

Hearing that Legolas was staying the night, Little Alvin was overjoyed. "Uncle Legolas, tonight I want to sleep with you! Will you tell me adventure stories from the forest?"

Legolas patted his head, which was as good as an agreement.

Midnight.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the window shutters, casting a narrow silver ribbon across the floor.

In the bed, Legolas lay on his side, eyes closed, but he couldn't fall asleep.

Then a muffled voice came from beside him.

"Uncle, I can't sleep."

Legolas opened his eyes and looked down to meet Little Alvin's gaze.

"Can't sleep?"

The night breeze carried the scent of dew.

Little Alvin looked out the window. "Uncle, you're leaving tomorrow, aren't you?"

Legolas didn't deny it.

He put on his outer robe. "Come on, let's go outside."

The two lay side by side on the grass in the yard.

The night sky was cloudless, and the moon and stars hung high, occasionally punctuated by the faint calls of nocturnal birds.

Little Alvin was quiet for a long time.

Legolas didn't say anything either.

He didn't ask Little Alvin why he couldn't sleep.

This child was always more perceptive than others.

"Will we ever meet again?" Little Alvin's voice was soft.

"Of course, we will," Legolas said.

"Then let's pinky swear."

Legolas smiled. "Alright."

He fumbled in the dark and found the boy's small hand.

Their pinkies hooked together.

"Good," Little Alvin said with satisfaction. Then he asked, "When you leave, can I have something of yours?"

"What would you like?" Legolas asked.

"You're always wearing that necklace..."

Legolas was silent for a moment.

Then he reached up, unclasped the item from his own neck, and pressed it into Little Alvin's hand. "This is the Hunter's Glory. Wear it, and it will guide you on the path of the hunt."

"When you've become strong enough, you can come find me anytime."

Little Alvin looked down at the necklace resting quietly in his palm.

This was something he had dreamed of for a long time: a token belonging to a Professional.

Yet when he finally had it in his hands, he pushed it back.

"Can you not go? I heard... the Ancient Tree Council is really scary."

Legolas shook his head. "That's not something a man should say."

"I believe that when you grow up, you'll make the same choice I did. But not now."

Little Alvin bit his lip and nodded firmly. "Then I'll become the strongest adventurer in Iron Axe Town before you come back!"

Legolas chuckled. "Then I'll be waiting to see that."

The next morning, as the sky was just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn.

Legolas had already packed his gear and was standing at the blacksmith's shop entrance with his horse.

Odrik and Martha stood in the doorway, with Little Alvin in front of them, waving goodbye to him.

"Uncle, remember to come back and see us!"

"Yeah, goodbye."

Legolas swung himself onto his horse.

His figure quickly disappeared down the road.

No one knew where this half-elf ranger had gone.

But under that moonlight, a seed had been planted.