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

The blade halted at the coin's nose tip.

"If you lie to me, I'll hang you," Gai La De said, his voice tense, for the coin had claimed he brought the World Tree.

The coin sneered; these elves were so weak even in threats—hanging? What was there to fear? It was the least intimidating way to die; real outlaws wouldn't flinch.

Didn't 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, growing into mushrooms, skin peeling away, itching unbearably, agony beyond endurance.

Any one of these methods would terrify outlaws into wetting themselves—but elves refused to use them; they had a spiritual fastidiousness, and their cruelest idea was merely to hack someone to death.

The coin dared approach for negotiations only because he was an undead, under Ange's protection, and his counterpart was an elf—he'd never be so foolish if it were the Church of Light.

The coin raised his hand and said: "I need my box."

"The goblin general store?" Gai La De waved a hand in agreement.

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

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

The 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; Gai La De forgot her own safety and shot forward like an arrow to the coin's side—this ghostly speed suggested the elven queen herself must be terrifyingly powerful.

The coin barely saw movement before the sapling was gone from his hands, into Gai La De's—his eyes bulged, and he involuntarily cried out: "Elven Hunter!"

Gai La De paid no attention to the 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 jointly, tearing open a five-colored portal; Gai La De leapt in and vanished with a whoosh.

The coin still held his hands out as if cupping the pot, staring blankly at the vanished portal, heart racing: The client stole the goods without paying—what now?

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

The coin gathered his general store, bewildered, and followed the male elf to a magnificent treehouse.

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

The coin quickly called out: "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 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-sap fruit juice. If you suffer insomnia, we've prepared calming incense…"

The male elf, Lin Lin, listed everything in detail, leaving the coin stunned—he was beginning to grasp the weight of elven friendship.

Moon Spring water? Drink freely, bathe in it. World Tree fruit? Eat freely. Moon-sap fruit juice? Drink freely. Elven incense? Use freely. Good heavens—any one of these items, taken outside, would be a luxury even nobles couldn't afford casually.

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

Any ordinary person would be stunned into silence—but the coin wasn't ordinary. A goblin merchant who didn't squeeze every last drop of value wasn't a goblin merchant.

"Can I pack all this up and take it?" the 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 coin was awestruck—but this was only the beginning.

"Elven Specialty Exclusive Operating Xu Kezheng."

"Elven Specialty Discount Purchase Right."

"Special Operating Xu Kezheng for the Elven Realm."

"Elven Realm Tax Exemption Certificate."

"Certificate of Diplomatic Envoy Authority in the Elven Empire."

"Elven Honored Friend Badge."

"..."

Dozens of such items—Lin Lin's list left the coin speechless.

Most people wouldn't understand what these certificates meant—but the coin understood perfectly.

For example, the "Elven Specialty Exclusive Operating Xu Kezheng" granted legal authority to sell elven specialties—equivalent to a brand certification, proving the product was officially endorsed by the elves.

Don't think it's useless—many consumers believe in this. If a seller claims to sell elven goods but lacks this license, who'd believe it's genuine?

Just this one piece of paper, auctioned on the market, would fetch twenty to thirty thousand magic crystals.

The "Special Operating Xu Kezheng for the Elven Realm" meant the coin could legally operate within the Elven Empire—gaining instant access to a high-spending, exclusive market.

No human guild had ever operated within the Elven Empire before; even trading at Greenleaf City as a transit hub had already brought immense profits.

The "Elven Realm Tax Exemption Certificate" was even more staggering—it meant the 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 coin dumped goods at low prices to seize the market, he could bankrupt every elven merchant, then buy them out cheaply and monopolize the entire Elven Empire's commerce.

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

The "Elven Specialty Discount Purchase Right" meant little—merchants never feared high prices, only lack of market.

The coin, overwhelmed by the crushing weight of this friendship, stuffed his general store with all the local specialties, clutched a pile of certificates, stepped into the teleportation array, and vanished.

Yet barely 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-thousand-gold reward, working hard to add extra chapters.