Chapter 83: The Friendship of Elves (Thank You, Baiyin Grand Patron LutherQin

The blade halted at the silver coin’s nose tip.

“If you lie to me, I’ll hang you,” Geralde said, his voice tense, for the Silver Coin had claimed he brought the World Tree.

The Silver Coin sneered; these elves were so pathetically weak in threats—hanging? What was there to fear? It was the least intimidating way to die; real outlaws weren’t scared of it.

Didn’t the elves have crueler methods? Of course they did—like planting bloodvines inside a body, using it as a nutrient vessel, the vines wrapping around sinews, snapping bones, yet the victim never died.

Or planting demonic mushrooms: spores scattered beneath the skin, like infection, the victim conscious as their flesh slowly turned to fungus, sprouting into mushrooms, skin peeling away, itching, unbearable pain, life a torment.

Any one of these methods could terrify outlaws into wetting themselves—but the elves refused to use them; they had a spiritual aversion to cruelty, and their cruelest idea was still just hacking someone to death.

The Silver Coin dared approach for negotiations only because he was undead, protected by Lord Ang’s soul, and his counterpart was an elf—he’d never be so foolish if it were the Church of Light.

The Silver Coin raised his hand and said: “I need my box.”

“The goblin general store?” Geralde waved a hand in agreement.

Two elven priests stepped forward, gestured, and a semi-transparent green dome enveloped the Silver Coin, preventing him from opening the box and releasing poison.

As for magic scrolls, spatial beacons, alchemical self-destruct potions—look at the mana-reducing field surrounding them, the banishment array beneath their feet, and the two elven Grand Mages standing beside Geralde—success was impossible.

The Silver Coin hadn’t come to assassinate the elven queen, so he didn’t care about the defenses; once granted permission, he unstrapped his general store, disassembled and reassembled it, then pulled out a potted sapling.

The moment the sapling appeared, all elves erupted in shock; Geralde forgot her own safety and shot forward like an arrow to the Silver Coin’s side—such ghostly speed, even the elven queen’s own power must be terrifying.

The Silver Coin barely saw a blur before the sapling was gone from his hands, into Geralde’s—his eyes widened, and he involuntarily cried out: “Elven Hunter!”

Geralde paid no attention to the Silver Coin; she glanced at the sapling once, then exclaimed excitedly: “It’s the scent of the God of Life—our friend has come! I’ll be right back.” She retreated, cradling the sapling.

The two elven Grand Mages cast in unison, tearing open a five-colored portal; Geralde leapt in and vanished with a whoosh.

The Silver Coin still held his hands out, cradling the pot, staring blankly at the vanished portal, his heart in turmoil: The client stole the goods without paying—what now?

He stood frozen for a long while, until finally, a male elf approached, placing a hand over his chest in salute: “Honored guest, please follow me.”

The Silver Coin gathered his general store, bewildered, and followed the male elf to a lavish treehouse.

“Honored guest, please rest here briefly—an elder will come to receive you shortly.” He turned to leave.

The Silver Coin quickly called him back: “Can I use everything in the room?”

“Of course,” the male elf smiled politely. “Everything here is prepared for you, honored guest.”

“Even that?!” The Silver Coin pointed to a well in the corner’s open-air bath, asking seriously.

“Yes, honored guest—please use freely. That is the Moon Spring; soaking in it brings great benefits, and the water is sweet. We’ve prepared the finest Moon Spring water for your drinking, along with World Tree fruit platters and Moon Jiang fruit juice. If you suffer from insomnia, we’ve prepared calming incense…”

The male elf, Lin Lin, listed everything in detail, leaving the Silver Coin stunned—he was beginning to grasp just how heavy elven friendship truly was.

Moon Spring water? Drink it freely, bathe in it. World Tree fruit? Eat it freely. Moon Jiang fruit juice? Drink it freely. Elven incense? Use it freely. Good heavens—any one of these items, taken alone, was so luxurious even royalty couldn’t afford to use them casually.

For example, the Moon Spring: daily drinking strengthens the body, bathing prolongs life. Moon Jiang fruit, brewed with Moon Spring water, sells for fifty magic crystals per bottle. The incense? Also a famed elven specialty—now all laid out before him, free to use.

Any ordinary person would be stunned into silence—but the Silver Coin was no ordinary person. Wasn’t a goblin merchant defined by squeezing every last drop of value?

“Can I pack all this up and take it with me?” the Silver Coin asked.

He expected the male elf to grow angry or disdainful—but he didn’t. The elf remained courteous and warm:

“Of course, honored guest. If you wish to take it, we’ve prepared some for you. The Moon Spring yields about ten liters of Moon Dew per day—we’ve prepared fifty liters. Is that enough? More would be hard to carry.”

Meticulous, warm service. Free access to elven specialties. Even delivery included. The Silver Coin was awestruck—but this was only the beginning.

“Elven Specialty Exclusive Operating License.”

“Elven Specialty Discount Purchase Right.”

“Special Operating Permit for the Elven Realm.”

“Elven Realm Tax Exemption Certificate.”

“Credential for Exercising Diplomatic Envoy Rights in the Elven Empire.”

“Elven Honored Friend Badge.”

“...”

Dozens of items, each more astonishing than the last—leaving the Silver Coin speechless.

Most people wouldn’t understand what these certificates meant—but the Silver Coin understood perfectly.

For example, the “Elven Specialty Exclusive Operating License” granted official permission to sell elven specialties—equivalent to a brand certification, proving the product was authentically endorsed by the elves.

Don’t think this is useless. Many consumers believe only in this stamp. If you sell “elven goods” without this license, who’d believe they’re genuine?

Just this one piece of paper, auctioned on the market, could fetch 200,000 to 300,000 magic crystals.

The “Special Operating Permit for the Elven Realm” meant the Silver Coin could legally operate within the Elven Empire—gaining instant access to a high-spending, exclusive market.

No human merchant guild had ever operated inside the Elven Empire before; even trading through Greenleaf City had already made fortunes.

The “Elven Realm Tax Exemption Certificate” was even more staggering—it meant the Silver Coin paid no taxes within elven territory. Good heavens, this friendship was so heavy it could crush elven merchants themselves.

Elven merchants paid taxes. If the Silver Coin dumped goods at low prices to seize the market, he could bankrupt every elven business, then buy them out cheaply and monopolize the entire elven commercial realm.

Of course, this tax exemption certificate likely had hidden restrictions to prevent the holder from inflicting excessive damage on the elven market.

The “Elven Specialty Discount Purchase Right” was meaningless—merchants never feared high prices, only lack of demand.

The weight of this friendship had crushed the Silver Coin’s ability to think. He stuffed every local specialty into his general store, clutched a pile of certificates, stepped into the teleportation array, and vanished.

But scarcely had he left when a teleportation array near the World Tree received a communication request. A sly voice crackled through: “Uh, you elves—wanna buy World Tree saplings? Guaranteed alive.”

PS: First update—hundred-million reward, working hard to add more.