468: Chapter 450 Not attending the banquet is disrespecting the Elf King

As the ruler of a race, the Elf King must be cautious when facing major decisions.

When the withering of the life tree first showed signs, an Elder suggested that since it was a gift from God, they could hold a sacrifice to communicate with the deity and request a divine oracle to guide their race.

The cause of the life tree's withering could be known by asking God. This was originally the best way to solve the problem, but the King did not nod decisively.

Elves are "sinners." For ten thousand years, God has never appeared to personally punish the elves, but it's not because He is merciful. God cannot arbitrarily interfere with the operation of the Saul Continent; this rule has a prerequisite: there must be no form of connection between the two parties—thought, matter, and so on.

If God were to get angry, the accumulated wrath from ten thousand years of failing to punish heretics would probably be enough to burn the entire Saul Continent into scorched earth, leaving not a single living being.

If the elves were to start a sacrificial ritual now and establish a mental channel with God, the King felt that what the Elf Clan would receive would likely not be a divine oracle on how to heal the life tree, but rather thunderous bolts of venting rage.

On the surface, the Elf King seemed indecisive; facing the two options proposed by Zhang Mu, he needed to delay for three days before giving a final conclusion.

However, once a choice was made, it would be executed regardless of the cost.

After discussing and finalizing the basic strategy with the Great Elder—first exchange for enough fertilizer to ensure the land of the Forest of Spirits would not be barren for a hundred years, then wait for an opportunity to plot for the manufacturing method, keeping the lifeblood of the race in their own hands.

The next second, he instructed the Great Elder to politely invite Zhang Mu and speak the decision frankly.

It was truly frank; even the "afterwards" part was told in its original words without missing a syllable.

Zhang Mu was not dissatisfied with the Elf King's concerns. Although this decision was full of speculation and doubt about him, why should he expect others at the "acquaintance" stage to trust him unconditionally?

This was a transaction between equals, not charity from a rich man to a refugee.

The two sides soon reached an agreement.

Zhang Mu would pay the Elf Clan a hundred years' worth of fertilizer, and the Elf Clan would select a hundred clansmen to provide to him as reserves for air force pilots.

As for the fertilizer manufacturing technology, as both had envisioned, it was temporarily set aside.

The land of the Forest of Spirits was vast; the fertilizer needed for a hundred years was no small amount. Even with the industrial capacity of the Blue Star's Four Nations, it would take a long time to prepare everything.

The Four Nations of Blue Star could add production lines to greatly shorten the time, but the matter was not very urgent, and the new production lines would have to be dismantled afterward, which was too wasteful.

After leaving the council chamber, Zhang Mu immediately returned to Blue Star. Under the pretext that "the mundane areas of this realm need fertilizer to increase crop yields," he instructed the Four Nations to collect a staggering amount of fertilizer.

Of course, it wasn't for free; Zhang Mu promised a reward so generous that even at a national level, it was "astonishing."

The staff in various countries responsible for contacting the Transcendent immediately picked up the phone to report to their superiors. During the call, when describing the specific details of the reward, they not only emphasized their words but also spoke slowly and clearly.

The superiors' eyelids, which were still fighting because they had just woken up, reconciled instantly and retracted to their limit. The handset didn't even need to be placed back on the base; after pressing the hang-up button, they directly dialed their own superior's private line.

The news was reported up layer by layer and soon reached the top level.

Usually, meetings lasted at least ten hours with many pending issues left over, but in this meeting, the big shots took only ten minutes to reach a consensus on all proposals, followed by a rapid series of orders.

All fertilizer factories across the country went into full production. Except for the necessary consumption retained for domestic use, everything else was centralized in warehouses.

Two days later, Zhang Mu stuffed the fertilizer that filled hundreds of warehouses across various countries into a single slot in his inventory, summoned a Portal and arrived at the clan grounds.

The clan grounds occupied a large area, but they couldn't squeeze out a space to store all this fertilizer. The Storage Pouchs played an important role at this time.

The Elf King brought out all the Storage Pouchs from the treasury and even requisitioned those of the clansmen before Zhang Mu finally nodded, "That should be enough."

The handover procedure took place on the grass next to the life tree—only this place in the Elf Clan grounds was spacious enough.

The delivery process lasted from sunrise to sunset.

Zhang Mu took out a batch, and the elves stored a batch. After repeating this hundreds of times, the number in the lower-left corner of the inventory slot finally returned to zero—in the end, there still weren't enough Storage Pouchs, and a large pile of fertilizer was stacked on the grass.

There was no other way but to manually transport it into the treasury.

Storage Pouchs were moved into the treasury first, followed by bags of fertilizer. The Elf King, who was supervising from the side, couldn't maintain his royal dignity; his mouth was wide open and hadn't closed for even a second.

There was so much that the treasury space was insufficient. On the spot, he ordered that treasures which would cause High-tier Professionals to gather and scramble for in the outside world be thrown out.

The Elders and the onlookers from the clan also grinned—it was said that because they laughed for too long, many low-tier Professional clansmen with weaker constitutions suffered from facial paralysis. The High-tier Professionals had strong control over their bodies and narrowly escaped.

Then came the Count, count work.

The Elf King drove away the clansmen holding bark paper and counting one by one, staying alone in the treasury for a night.

When he walked out of the gate the next morning, he looked like a mental patient, eyes vacant, steps floating, and constantly muttering, "Two hundred years, two hundred years, two hundred years...".

When he finally came to his senses, it was noon, and Zhang Mu was looking for him to say goodbye.

With a wave of his hand, the Elf King declared that it wouldn't be too late to leave tomorrow. Tonight, the Elf Clan would hold a grand feast to celebrate the race's survival of the disaster. "Zhang Mu, if you don't attend, you're not giving me, the Elf King, face."

Zhang Mu didn't quite understand where the Elf King had learned this routine. His temperament didn't resemble a dignified king but rather a bandit who ate big chunks of meat and drank large gulps of wine.

Considering he still needed a favor and waiting an extra day wouldn't hurt, he agreed.

The banquet was held as scheduled on the grass next to the life tree.

The vast area was now filled with stump tables, piled with various exotic fruits collected from the plantation. Some looked like apples but had white skin; some looked like bananas but were meant to be swallowed whole.

Between the countless stump tables stood wooden lamp posts. The dim yellow light gathered together, illuminating the space.

The towering life tree in the background swayed its branches and leaves in the firelight, as if celebrating with the elves.

The adult elves grew more excited, standing up together and raising wooden cups filled with wine, cheering for Zhang Mu's name. The mischievous young elves took advantage of their parents' lack of attention to sneakily dip a finger in a wine bottle and curiously put it in their mouths.

Then they ran away screaming and sticking out their tongues.

The Elf King and Zhang Mu sat alone at a wooden table.

Zhang Mu smiled and raised his cup in response to the clansmen. Only after everyone had finally finished their wine and sat back down did he find the time to state his purpose.

The pilots had been agreed upon; the Elf King would select candidates tomorrow and personally send them to Lake once the list was ready.

What Zhang Mu wanted to talk about was something else—the tear of life.

The tear of life was a necessity for developing the kinetic energy of magic-conducting weapons and was also a supreme treasure of the Elf Clan. However, Zhang Mu wasn't sure to what extent the Elf Clan valued it.

He had asked Furei about it, but perhaps for secrecy reasons, she was vague and couldn't explain the details.

Finally, Zhang Mu could only negotiate with the person in charge, the Elf King.

"Elf King, please." Zhang Mu upheld the tradition of "one does not strike a smiling face," filling a cup of wine and raising it, though he didn't know if the Elf Clan had a similar custom.

"Please."

The two finished their wine. Zhang Mu put down his cup and said, "Before coming here, I met Gezhe by chance. That guy wasn't very guarded against me and told me some things about the past between the Elf Clan and him."

A dead enemy wasn't worth worrying about. When the Elf King mentioned this mortal enemy of the clan, his smile didn't fade: "The battle from a thousand years ago?"

"Yes."

"Is Mr. Zhang Mu curious?"

"Uh, a little." Since he was eyeing their supreme treasure, Zhang Mu engaged in a rare step-by-step conversation. "His goal was the Elf Clan's supreme treasure, the tear of life, but isn't that thing only useful to the Elf Clan?

They paid any price—two dead and one seriously injured—what was the point of taking it?"

"Speaking of which." The Elf King held the handle of the wooden cup with his right hand and rubbed the cup with his left, his eyes revealing confusion. "I am even more puzzled than Mr. Zhang Mu."

"Could it be because they didn't know the news?"

The Elf King shook his head: "This news is very secret; our race has never revealed it to the outside. But Gezhe and the other two are Gods Blessings, so they should have known."

"Does that mean they had another use for it?"

"Yes."

Zhang Mu pondered for a while without a clue, then set it aside: "Is the production of tear of lifes very low?"

"Low."

"Why? Is it because the life tree lacks energy, leading to a long cultivation time?" He thought that if that were the case, he could exchange a drop for fertilizer.

"No.

The main reason is actually something I'm not quite sure about. The only thing I know is that the life tree breeds one teardrop every three thousand years, which coincides with the cycle of succession for our throne."

Succession to the throne only begins when the previous king passes away. The other layer of information in this sentence was that during a king's tenure, the life tree can only produce one teardrop.

A king must consume the teardrop. Based on this inference, there were no extra teardrops in storage within the Elf Clan now, and there wouldn't be in the future.

This is trouble.

The wine cup Zhang Mu was bringing to his mouth paused.

How could he have the nerve to ask for it?

Even if I'm thick-skinned enough to ask, they might not be willing to give it.

Steal it?

Not to mention how awkward Furei's position would be, I can't beat a Gods Blessing either.

What to do...

The wine cup finally touched his lips, but Zhang Mu had no intention of drinking. He bit the rim of the cup hard, and with a "crack," a small piece of wood was bitten off.

The Elf King looked over in confusion: "Mr. Zhang Mu, you... is our fruit wine not to your taste? I'll immediately send someone to Potan City to buy ordinary human wine.

Great Elder?!"

"Present!" The Great Elder, who had been clinking glasses with clansmen somewhere, appeared by the table like a ghost.

"Mr. Zhang Mu doesn't like fruit wine, go..."

"Ah?" Zhang Mu snapped back to reality, spat out the wood chip, and quickly interrupted, "It's a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding. I really like the taste of the fruit wine."

"Then you..." The Elf King looked at the wood chip on the grass.

Zhang Mu glanced at the Great Elder, who tactfully vanished on the spot.

"Elf King, there's something... well, a request."

"Please, feel free to mention it."

"Well, let me clarify first, I'm just asking. If you don't agree, just act like I never said it." Zhang Mu paused for a moment, his expression solemn. "I need a drop of the Elf Clan's tear of life."

The Elf King's finger, which had been scratching his nose out of confusion at Zhang Mu's abnormal behavior, suddenly froze.

Well, no chance.

Zhang Mu sighed: "I understand the importance of the tear of life to the Elf Clan, so I'm just trying. If it's not possible, then..."

"Hahaha..." The Elf King suddenly burst into laughter, not stopping until Zhang Mu was thoroughly baffled. "If you had come to ask me a thousand years ago, I definitely wouldn't have had any. But right now... come with me."

The Elf King stood up. Things had taken an unexpected turn. A delighted Zhang Mu followed him, and the two left the table silently.

The dim yellow lights gathered by the magic crystals gradually faded into the distance, and the surrounding light grew dim.

The Elf King led the way along a garden path: "Mr. Zhang Mu, I mean no offense, and it won't affect my decision, but may I take the liberty of asking why you need the tear of life?"

"For research." The explanation was too vague; Zhang Mu worried he wouldn't understand and would misinterpret it as a refusal to disclose. He continued, "I happened to obtain half a drop of the teardrop. After analyzing its components, I found that it seems possible to replicate and produce it.

Coincidentally, a certain weapon in Lake can have its power greatly enhanced after being mixed with the teardrop."

The teardrop Zhang Mu had seized from the coalition's treasury was actually a complete drop, but he didn't know the origin of that drop.

In case it contained some unpleasant memories for the Elf Clan, and the Elf King misunderstood that he was the mastermind behind the teardrop being stolen or taken, let alone whether the pilot deal could proceed, it was a question whether Zhang Mu could even walk out of the clan grounds safely.

The Elf King didn't seem to believe his claim that it "could be replicated and produced" and didn't care at all, muttering thoughtfully, "Half a drop..."

Zhang Mu feigned curiosity and asked, "Was it stolen in the history of the Elf Clan?"

"There was once a traitor in our history. When he fled the clan grounds, he did indeed steal the tear of life, leaving the succeeding Elf King at that time with no teardrop to use.

Fortunately, the Elf Clan rarely has external enemies, and our race passed those three thousand years peacefully."

Zhang Mu said with interest: "A traitor who stole the tear of life?

Given how much the elves value the tear of life, for a traitor to escape safely and steal the teardrop, their identity and strength must not have been low."

This should have been a scandal for the clan, but the Elf King didn't hold back and spoke truthfully: "It was the Prince who failed in the competition for the throne."

"That's not surprising then." Zhang Mu suddenly understood.

Thinking carefully, only someone of that identity and status could come into contact with the secrets of the tear of life. Mere strength wouldn't be enough; all eighteen Elders were Saint-level, and the Great Elder was at the Peak Saint-level, with hopes of breaking through to Gods Blessing.

Yet their understanding of the tear of life was no more than that of an ordinary clansman.

"Where did that Prince go afterward?"

"If our race knew, Mr. Zhang Mu wouldn't have accidentally obtained half a drop."

"That's true."

The topic then branched off in other directions.

Aside from the life tree, the only common topic between the two was Frederica.

Zhang Mu asked about some interesting stories from Furei's childhood. The Elf King's face showed reminiscence as he recounted the bits and pieces of his daughter's daily life as a child in a nostalgic tone.

Chatting like this, the two arrived at the Elf Clan's treasury.

The Elf King stepped forward, deactivated the sealing formation he had personally set, and the heavy doors of the treasury slowly opened inward.