The Invincible Young Master

As they passed through the ornate gates of Feyhaven, the soldiers' minds buzzed with a mix of excitement and anticipation. The sheer majesty of the elven city, with its towering trees and bioluminescent flora, was a sight they had only heard of in legends. Now, here they were, walking the earthy streets of a place that felt more like a dream than reality.

Elves were engaged in their daily activities everywhere they looked, moving gracefully and purposefully. Their long, flowing garments and ethereal presence added to the city's mystical ambiance. It was uncommon for such a large, weapon-clad group of humans to traverse these streets, and the elves paused in their tasks to observe the newcomers, their eyes filled with curiosity and caution.

"Smelly people and smelly city," Spark commented, his voice carrying a tone of casual disdain as he strolled through the heart of Feyhaven.

Princess Ling, walking alongside him, sighed softly.

"Lord Spark, you mean aromatic," Princess Ling corrected gently, trying to maintain a semblance of decorum.

Spark shrugged nonchalantly.

"Not my taste," he replied, dismissing the enchanting fragrances that wafted through the air—the scent of wildflowers, damp earth, and the faint musk of ancient trees.

Princess Ling gave a wry smile. It was fortunate that most of the elves didn't understand their foreign language; otherwise, Spark's remarks might have caused a stir. For now, they continued their journey through the city, the magical lights illuminating their path as evening descended.

As they progressed, the soft, shimmering light that bathed the city streets grew more pronounced. Luminescent plants and carefully crafted lanterns hung from branches, casting a warm, otherworldly glow. The tall tree houses, seamlessly integrated into the natural environment, seemed to reach for the sky, their windows twinkling like stars.

The group stopped in front of a large, welcoming building. It was an inn, its entrance bustling with visitors who moved in and out with a purposeful grace. A few humans were also seen entering the inn.

The structure itself was magnificent, built into and around a massive tree, with balconies and walkways intertwining with its branches.

"This is where our guests may rest for the day," their elven guide, the lady who had guided them here, gestured to the inn.

Spark led the way into the elven inn, not waiting for others, who hesitated before following. Zhao Shi and Yuna fell in step behind them, their eyes taking in the intricate wooden carvings and the gentle, ambient light that bathed the interior in a warm, welcoming glow.

As they approached the counter, Spark raised his hand to the elf behind it—a slender figure with silver hair tied back, who was busy polishing a glass. The counter was lined with an array of bottles filled with colorful liquids, and a variety of delicate glasses.

"Give us each a glass of wine," Spark ordered, his tone casual.

The bartender, with a serene smile, nodded and quickly set about preparing their drinks. A short while later, he presented them with four glasses filled with a pale green liquid.

"Hey, is this really wine?" Spark asked, eyeing the unusual drink skeptically.

"Yes," the elf replied, his tone smooth and reassuring. "It is a special wine made from local herbs and plants. It's known to cure all exhaustion and fatigue."

Spark lifted his glass, giving it a sniff before taking a small sip. Instantly, his eyes widened, and he had to muster all his self-control to swallow the bitter liquid rather than spit it out across the counter.

"Did you just try to poison me?" Spark blurted, glaring at the bartender.

The elf looked genuinely alarmed. "Guest, what are you saying? I would never do something so terrible."

"Then why is it so bitter? It must be poison," Spark insisted, grimacing at the lingering taste.

The bartender's composure returned, and he explained calmly, "It's a wine made from plants and herbs, with natural healing properties. The bitterness is part of its charm and efficacy."

Spark sighed deeply, realizing he should have expected something like this in a place so closely tied to nature.

"Forget it," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. Suddenly, he remembered the wine Zhao Shi had bought from the Red State before their departure. "I've brought my own,"

…

Meanwhile, Princess Ling had permitted her soldiers to order whatever they wanted from the inn's menu. Eager to try the local cuisine, the soldiers didn't hold back. They scanned the menu, filled with unfamiliar dishes, and made their selections, unaware of what they were about to experience.

One soldier, a burly man with a thick beard, received a dish that looked like strips of tree bark. He stared at it, puzzled, and turned to the elf waiter for guidance. "How am I supposed to eat this?"

The waiter replied with a serene smile, "You're supposed to chew it."

The soldier's comrades burst into laughter at the absurdity of chewing on what appeared to be bark. Despite their amusement, they watched with curiosity as he took a tentative bite. To their surprise, the soldier chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. "It's not as bad as it looks."

As they continued to eat, another soldier's dish arrived. This one was a mound of green moss-like plant, garnished with delicate seasonings. The soldier who had ordered it looked at the plate with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"Is this safe to eat?" he asked the waiter.

"It's safe, guest," the waiter replied. "It's one of our famous delicacies here."

Hesitant but willing to try, the soldier took a bite. His eyes widened as he tasted the surprisingly savory and fresh flavors.

"It's actually pretty good," he said, prompting others to dig into their unusual meals.

The soldiers continued to explore the menu, and a variety of elven dishes began to arrive at their table. The cuisine was a colorful display of nature's bounty, with ingredients like wildflowers, exotic fruits, and a variety of herbs they had never encountered before.

One soldier received a dish of what looked like petals and leaves drizzled with a sparkling, sweet dressing. He hesitated only for a moment before taking a bite and was soon delighted by the burst of flavors. Another soldier, less fortunate, was served a dish with a slimy, gelatinous texture that made him wince.

He forced down a few bites, his face contorting with every chew, while his comrades chuckled at his misfortune.

Despite the occasional strange dish, most of the soldiers found their meals to be surprisingly appetizing. The presentation was sometimes odd and the textures unfamiliar, but the flavors were often refreshing and new. They marveled at the culinary creativity of the elves, who had managed to turn the forest's natural resources into a feast.

…

As Spark drank, the rich flavors of the Red State wine seemed to wash away the memory of the bitter elven brew. The conversation flowed more freely, and Spark's earlier irritation dissipated.

They talked and laughed, recounting stories from their journeys. Spark's cheeks flushed with a warm, rosy hue as the effects of the wine took hold, making him appear more animated than usual.

After they had finished eating and drinking, and with Spark now visibly hazy, they decided to call it a night and retreated to their reserved rooms.

The trio chose a large room with three beds. The room was cozy, with wooden walls adorned with elven art and soft, glowing orbs hanging from the ceiling, providing a gentle light.

Spark, lying on his bed, looked thoughtful. "We just have to hide in this inn until it's time to leave this city."

Yuna nodded profusely. "We can't afford to let that old thing find us."

Zhao Shi, who had been bewildered by this mysterious 'old thing' they kept mentioning, finally voiced his curiosity. "Who is this 'old thing' the young master is avoiding?"

Spark glanced at Yuna, who looked equally reluctant to speak.

"Let's not jinx ourselves," Spark said, waving off the question. "We'll tell you once we leave the forest."

With that, they settled into their beds, the soft murmur of the elven city outside their window serving as a lullaby.

***

[Author's Note: I'm telling you all he is not a racist.]

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