The Invincible Young Master

Spark's eyes widened slightly, but he maintained his composure.

The old elf approached their table, his movements slow but deliberate. "You're the young man from this afternoon, right?"

"Yes," Spark replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Did you find the people you were looking for?"

The old elf sighed heavily and shook his head. "I didn't," he said, his voice laced with disappointment. "I've been searching all day, but to no avail."

Princess Ling, wanting to hear the story from the old elf's side, leaned in with genuine curiosity, and asked. "Who were you looking for, elder?"

The old elf hesitated for a moment before sitting down at their table, uninvited.

"I was looking for a man and a woman. The woman had dark hair, and the man had golden hair," the old elf explained, his eyes searching their faces as if trying to match them with his memory.

Spark and Yuna exchanged a quick glance, their hearts skipping a beat. Their hair color was still altered by Yuna's spell—Spark's hair now black, and Yuna's golden hue. It seemed their disguise was holding up.

"Why are you looking for them?" Princess Ling continued. "Do you remember what they looked like?"

The old elf's expression darkened slightly.

"They... well, they owe me a significant debt," he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "I don't recall their faces clearly—it was dark. But their hair colors were distinct, and that's all I could remember."

Spark and Yuna, feeling the weight of his words, exchanged another uneasy glance. The memory of the burned wood and their hasty departure flashed vividly in their minds.

"That sounds unfortunate," Princess Ling said, keeping her tone neutral but encouraging the old elf to share more. "What happened between you and these people?"

The old elf's eyes took on a mixture of anger and sorrow as he recounted his tale, his voice wavered with emotion. "They burned my precious wood. Wood that's worth more than any treasure to me."

The old elf's face contorted with a mix of anger and sorrow as he recalled the memory. "That man robbed me and my innocence."

Spark, in the midst of sipping his wine, nearly choked at the old elf's dramatic accusation. Coughing slightly, he managed to recover without making a scene.

Princess Ling, her curiosity piqued, asked, "What do you mean he robbed your innocence?"

The old elf sighed deeply, looking every bit the victim.

"I had never touched a drop of alcohol in my life," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of the memory. "But that man—he insisted I share a drink with him. Just one glass, he said. Harmless, he said."

Spark's lips twitched into a wry smile, hearing the old man tell the incident of that night.

The old elf continued, "Before I knew it, I was drunk. My senses were dulled, and my guard lowered. I thought those two were innocent travelers, but they turned out to be nothing more than scoundrels. After they got me drunk, they set fire to my precious wood—a lifetime's collection of the finest, rarest timber. Then they fled without paying."

"The next morning I woke up, there was only the remains of my precious woods." Said the old elf, appearing pitiful.

Spark couldn't help but laugh wryly at the narrative, the corners of his mouth lifting in an awkward smile. The way the old elf described it, they sounded like deceitful villains from a cautionary tale.

THIS CHAPTER UPLOAD FIRST AT NOVELBIN.COM