landbeastnovel Chapter 325 Work is work, now is life
Chapter 325 Work is work, now is life
Chapter 325 Work is work, now is life
After gulping down the drink in his glass, Cyril looked at Cheryl and asked, "Do you know any excellent craftsmen?" "I have some properties I want to craft into magical items."
Cheryl: "Some?"
Xireen tilted his head back, recalled the number of traits he possessed, and replied, "About six or seven traits."
Cheryl nodded, not too surprised that he could produce so many special properties, and then asked, "You probably won't use all these magical items. Are you going to sell them?"
"Or you can sell the trait to me directly. There's a gathering of extraordinary individuals that I organized recently, and I can resell it."
Cyril nodded thoughtfully: "That's fine, but some of the properties need to be crafted into magical items. I've already found buyers."
Cheryl nodded immediately: "That's no problem, I have a long-term 'craftsman' working with."
After agreeing on a time for the transaction, Cyril got up and walked towards the entrance of the Bay Bar, intending to continue drinking and gathering information at a bar run by the other party's business rival.
"What a brutal business war!"
"Oh, and remember to pay me."
"Your drinks and grilled fish are on the house today."
"How stingy..."
Across the street from the Bay Bar, there's a bar called Frosty Wind.
As soon as Sirion stepped into the bar, the once lively place suddenly fell silent. The patrons turned to look at him, then pretended to be nonchalant and continued drinking in silence.
At the bar, Cyril glanced at the blackboard filled with drinks and prices, and casually said, "One Zarha."
"1 franc".
Soon, the bartender placed a full glass of drink, without a single froth, in front of him.
After taking a sip of his drink, Sirion laughed and said, "This place is much more authentic than the bars I've been to in the Caracas. Back then, the glass they gave me was almost a quarter full of foam."
The bartender behind the bar slightly raised his chin: "Hey, this is how we Fussacks treat our guests. Only those low-class mixed-race natives are stingy."
He had barely finished speaking when he heard the sound of a wine glass being slammed down next to him.
"You are not a pure Fusak either; your eyes have elven blood."
Cyril turned his head curiously to look at the other side of the bar. The speaker was a muscular man, but not particularly tall among the group of Fusaks.
He had slightly curly light golden hair and beard, deep blue eyes, soft facial features, and fair skin, making it seem as if his elven bloodline overpowered his Fursak bloodline.
He stared intently at the bartender who had spoken earlier, and said in a low, hoarse voice, "He can't even speak proper Fusak, yet he insists on thinking he's a real Fusak."
"Aside from the church clergy and the stationed troops, there are hardly any Fussacks here."
"In the eyes of the real Fusak people, there is no real difference between you and the natives of the Carcas Islands; you are all just a group of slaves who need to be wary of, but can be exploited at will."
The bartender, wiping the glasses, curled his lip. "We're not slaves. It's just that you always think of yourself as one, but who's enslaving you?"
Cyril looked at the bartender with some curiosity, and asked thoughtfully, "Do you approve of the Fursac rule?"
The bartender shrugged and said nonchalantly, "There's no point in agreeing or disagreeing. I'm just an ordinary person from the bottom of society, only slightly better off than the homeless outside. What right do I have to express my opinion?"
"As for whether they rule this place—the Fusaks, the Runes, or the Elves—does it matter?"
"Anyway, as long as my life is better than before, that's all that matters."
He paused, then added, "Although the people living on the island of Sonia have some elven blood, who would consider themselves to be of elven descent?"
"You know, in our local legends, elves are far more cruel than the later Runes and Fusaks."
.
"Why?" Sirion asked, somewhat surprised.
Before the bartender behind the bar could speak, another somewhat familiar voice answered his question: "Elves value bloodlines. In the beginning, all mixed-race individuals with elven blood were rejected, as pure-blooded elves believed they had polluted the noble elven bloodline."
"Until the Church of Storms suppressed them, pure-blooded elves became increasingly rare, and they had no choice but to accept hybrid elves to strengthen their race."
"Afterwards, those who joined the elves did not change the situation. Instead, they learned the arrogance of the elves and began to classify people according to the purity of their bloodlines, discriminating against others."
"A glass of Zunia blood wine, on the rocks."
"6
'
This abrupt turn... hold off on drinking, finish the story first...
With a sigh, Sirien turned his head curiously and saw the woman in the orange priest's robe whom he had met at the hotel before.
However, she had changed out of her priest's robes into everyday clothes and had put on more elaborate makeup, making her look more in line with the atmosphere of the bar.
After a two-second silence, seeing that the other person had no intention of continuing, he had no choice but to ask, "You haven't finished your story yet. What does the elves' conservatism and discrimination based on bloodlines have to do with their cruelty?"
The other person took a sip of their drink and chuckled softly, "I have a story, but..."
Cyril turned to the bartender: "Give this lady another glass of Zonia Blood Wine, and put it on my tab."
The woman next to me, wearing a long black dress and a fluffy shawl, gave me a strange look: "I'm such a beautiful lady sitting next to you, and all you want to do is listen to stories instead of thinking about how to strike up a conversation with me?"
"Or is this actually one of your pickup lines?"
"..." Cyril fell silent.
Are you trying to say I have a story, but do you have any wine?
After a brief silence, he changed the subject: "You're nothing like the church staff I know."
The other person smiled, lowered their head, took another sip of the drink in their glass, and showed a hint of enjoyment before saying, "Work is work, but this is life."
"I've been working overtime for two days in a row. If I don't relax properly, I'm worried I'll become one of those old fogies in the office."
After a brief pause, she continued, "After introducing the hybrids, the elven race has grown stronger and is able to survive for a while longer in the face of the Storm Church's suppression."
"However, this was just the last glimmer of light before sunset. With the addition of the hybrids, the pride of the pure-blooded elves was gradually diluted, and the cohesion brought by their bloodline gradually decreased. They became a disorganized mess and were easily defeated by the Church of Storms."
"After that, Sonia gradually became a place where humans lived and ruled."
"But what does this have to do with the cruelty of the elves?" Sirion asked, somewhat puzzled.
"You're definitely not the kind of student teachers like—someone who's good at thinking and discovering things, and who gets excellent grades."
With a sigh, she swirled the drink in her glass, reminisced for a moment, and then continued, "Whether they were pure-blooded elves at the beginning or mixed-blood elves later on, they were not friendly to the ordinary humans and mixed-bloods with little elven blood on this island."
"At that time, they were at the very bottom of society, even lower than the homeless and low-level workers in Backlund."
"At least Backlund has laws and a true church, so evil gods won't openly use them as sacrifices."
C
"Otherwise, why do you think the Kingdom of Rune was able to colonize such a large island so easily back then?"
"Apart from those stubborn half-elves and cultists still basking in the glory of their bloodlines, everyone hopes for a powerful and lawful force to rule this place."
bang~
The heavy knocking interrupted the woman's story, and Sirion frowned in displeasure.
The half-elf and half-fossak who had caused the commotion approached, reeking of alcohol, and pointed at the woman beside him, saying, "Hmph, these are all slanders leveled against elves by the Fossaks and Runes!"
"Only fools like you, who think themselves wise, would believe it to be the truth."
"Sonia Island has belonged to the elves from the beginning; you humans are the invaders!"
Cyril: (—;)
Good grief, I've encountered an extreme racist from another world.
The woman being pointed at by a burly man didn't panic. Instead, she turned to look at Sirien and said, "Shouldn't the gentlemen of Ruen step in to help a lady out of this situation?"
Cyril shrugged. "I don't think you need me to bail you out."
"And I am not a gentleman, but a bounty hunter who is active at sea."
The burly man of elven blood beside him glanced at Cyrien with disdain: "You'd be asking a pretty boy for help instead of taking off your clothes and begging me..."
Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly reached up and gripped his own neck tightly, his face contorted in a grimace. An unnatural flush rose on his pale face, and he uttered a few indistinct syllables: "Ugh...you, I..."
"Uh...help, help, me..."
Cyril leaned back and quietly activated his spiritual vision.
Then he saw withered, pale, and translucent arms reaching out from the ground, from the ceiling, and from behind the burly man, pinning him to the spot and leaving black handprints on his body.
In just a few seconds, the burly man who had been full of vigor just moments before collapsed to the ground, his body twitching occasionally, and white foam oozing from his mouth.
Xireen frowned as he looked at the burly man lying on the ground. With his spiritual vision, he could tell that the man was not dead, but his mind and body were damaged. When he woke up, he would most likely become an idiot.
...Is this the style of the "God of War" Church?
While he was thinking, the lady next to him had changed her expression from one of relief to one of fear, and thanked him, saying, "Mr. Randolph, thank you so much for your help. You are a very helpful gentleman."
"Yes, he's also the most famous bounty hunter at sea lately. He can even recognize a wanted criminal who's only worth 200 pounds locally and subdue him in time."
'
'
Is this revenge for me burning all the spirits she commanded this afternoon?
Xi Ruien paused for a moment, turned to look at the other person, and didn't know what to say.
He paused, then pointed at the man lying on the ground and said, "You're welcome. I've always been happy to help others."
"Perhaps you could take him to the police station to collect a reward, which could be considered compensation for the emotional distress he caused you."
After he finished speaking, he looked around and noticed that there seemed to be fewer customers in the bar than before.
...In the future, I can cooperate with bar owners. Whoever pays more, I will go to their competitor's bar as a customer and engage in legitimate and reasonable business competition.
Shaking his head to gather his scattered thoughts, he tossed out a few gold Horns, paid for the glass of Sonia Blood Wine, and turned to leave the bar.
After leaving the crowded street, he suddenly stopped and turned to look at the empty street behind him, his eyes filled with the ever-changing pages of an illusory book.
Instantly, golden, illusory flames burst forth from nowhere around them.
These flames emanate a pure and sacred solar energy, and their density forms an ocean.
Within the blazing golden flames, the outlines of bizarre spirits were drawn out, then melted into the flames, disappearing with a silent scream.
After dealing with the undead and nature spirits lurking around him, he turned and stepped forward, his figure fading and disappearing as quickly as a faded oil painting.
Shortly after he left, amidst the howling wind, a shadow appeared on the rooftop beside him, and then a slender figure leaped out and landed lightly on the ground.
A gust of wind blew by, lifting the hood she was wearing and revealing the soft, beautiful features of her face that had been hidden.
Her ears, located on the side of her face, were slightly more pointed than normal.
"An elf?"
Cyril was taken aback as his figure quickly appeared in the spot where he had just disappeared.
The elf, whose hood had been blown open by the wind, looked at him with surprise and wariness: "You didn't leave?"
"What do you want to do?"
Cyril looked at the other party with great curiosity. This was the first time he had ever seen an elf. Although it did not look like a purebred elf, it was at least a second or third generation.
Without a sound, the surrounding wind became more rapid, as if it contained unseen sharp blades, causing his spiritual intuition to issue frequent warnings.
He tilted his head slightly, ignoring the wind blades hidden in the wind, and looked at the elf opposite him with a light laugh: "What I want to do depends on what you want to do with me."
"You've been watching me ever since I walked into the bar. Was that guy who was so proud of his elven blood one of yours?"
The elf opposite him shook his head with disdain: "No, he's just an ordinary human with a bit of elven blood in him."
"We only take in our true compatriots. There aren't many people like him on Sonia Island, but there are definitely not a few either."
"Oh~" Sirien nodded thoughtfully: "So he had contact with you before, but was eventually abandoned by you."
The elf opposite frowned and retorted, "That's not abandonment, it's just letting him return to his true people."
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