So what are the true masters of Asmodeos doing now?

He was comfortably submerging himself in a pool of hot and clean water.

Houses that hang high on tree branches in Grey Ridge certainly don't have bathrooms with hot and cold water taps, and elves are the least susceptible creatures in the world to darkness and filth, both mind and body. Humans have called them the most subtle creatures with subtle malice, for in addition to softness and warmth, the skin of the elves is indeed as smooth and white as alabaster, and they are hardly afflicted with diseases that can be found among humans and orcs, and their wounds heal quickly, leaving no scars or spots.

No matter how long they slept outside and how fierce the battle was, they would not sweat profusely or emit unpleasant smells, and dust and dirt rarely stayed on such bodies as if consciously.

Elves and half-elves still regularly leap and dive into rivers and streams, sometimes just because they are splashed with the blood of their enemies in battle, or they are teased with leaves or hairs by squirrels and birds, or they get the sap of maple trees or the silk of silver-bellied spiders in their work, but more often they just like the feeling of being hit by the rushing water hitting their skin muscles or enjoying the pleasure of squeezing water.

Some elves and half-elves like hot baths, and they learn from otters, surrounding their pools of water with fallen trees and stones by the Starlight River, and throwing pyroxene or fireballs into it - the problem is that pyroxene that needs to be purchased from the dwarves is distributed in limited quantities in Grey Ridge, and as for fireballs, when a reckless mage apprentice throws too many fireballs into the pool that he and his companions have, causing an explosion and burns, the manager of Grey Ridge, Elf Perrant, severely punishes the perpetrator and prohibits the practice.

So they found out that Cremar didn't need to light a fireball to make the water warm and even boil, and there was one more thing that Cremar could exchange with.

When the time enters autumn, the temperature in the morning and evening of Gray Ridge has dropped significantly, and the elves who are not so sensitive to the temperature have also put on velvet coats, and it has become the choice of many half-elves and elves to enjoy a happy and lively hot bath after heavy and busy work.

As for why they are called happy and hilarious, it is because they don't like people.

The only Greeks who can transform an arguably rather intimate act into a party, except for the world where the otherworldly soul is located, are probably only elves - what a strange thing, the elves' ideas even coincide with those of humanity in another plane, another time - they think that a perfect body and a clean soul are the most precious possessions that a living person can have, the latter is important, but the former is equally capable of their pursuit, an elf undresses his armor in front of a trusted companion, Weapons, giving up cumbersome clothing and accessories, is the most straightforward expression of love and friendship, as well as a kind of appreciation, recognition and love for oneself.

Well...... To put it simply, the elves and the half-elves who are deeply influenced by it are not afraid to see each other, regardless of gender.

They meet in pairs in the steaming mist, snuggling up with their closest friends or lovers, and savor the light wine, nuts and small bunches of black grapes made from pine branches and maple sugar, which are thick-skinned, but sweet and seedless, and have a long fruiting period that lasts until the snow engulfs the entire Ash Ridge.

It is impossible to play the sitara in a place where there is a lot of moisture, and the flute is not good, but that doesn't mean that there is no music for this particular party, and an elf grabs a fallen leaf that drifts over the stone embankment and puts it to his mouth.

Ye Di's voice is long, bright, simple and beautiful, but what is more intoxicating than it is the singing that follows.

It is free and desolate, like a sharp arrow, breaking through the heavens and the hearts of the living.

The otter, who had endured the heat and squatted not far away, and the otter who had eaten and drank in exchange for the various fruits and honey that the elves had brought to Cremar stopped its movements, and its fatter body, fed by the fish of the Starlight River and the honey of the Grey Ridge, stood with two round, small ears, and listened intently.

The spirit of the other world lay silently among the warm pebbles, his jaw pressed against his arm, the hard pebbles would soon return to color, leaving deep marks on his arm, but he did not care about it at all - he was learning Elven language, and although he was not yet comfortable using it, he could still recognize it as a hymn belonging to the elves.

The court of the elves was vast, not inferior to that of any other race, and the buildings were intricate and majestic, and the spaces were high and wide enough for a full-grown dragon to walk in them, and the magnificent walls, walls, and vaults of the vaults made them neither stone nor wood, nor materials to be found anywhere in the world, nor in them you could find a trace of splicing, adhesion, or masonry. They seem to have been made of lava, or out of water, or out of earth, and all the components are so pure, bright and alive that you can even hear them breathing gently as you walk through the corridors.

Merging with the dome of the wall, the silver-crowned tree that shaded the sky stretched out its branches as hard as steel, spread its dark green needles, and bloomed with silver flowers as bright as the crescent moon—the closer you got to the center of the royal court, where the Fountain of Life was located, the more numerous the flowers became. The fountain of life that shimmered with countless stars overflowed from under the fibrous roots of a silver-crowned tree that had stood here for tens of millions of years, and the flowers above were like dense clouds, and when the breeze gently blew, the translucent spoon-shaped petals fell one after another, falling into the spring water, turning into a bending and spinning boat. As the boat jolted along, the fountain of life, which had many miraculous effects, gradually assimilated into other water sources, gradually diluted to the point of nearness, and when it once again dived into the ground or poured to the surface, it was already no different from ordinary spring water.

Thumb-sized golden bees spend the year among the silver crown flowers, sucking the sweet juice of the silver crown tree flowers, drinking the water of the fountain of life, and brewing honey that spellcasters covet.

Picking up a Mithril goblet inlaid with colorless zircon and emerald in one hand, gently brushing the silver petals on the water, he scooped out a cup of cold and clean water from the fountain of life that seemed to never dry up—the King of the Silver-crowned Forest stepped down the steps and handed it to Perrante.

Perrante took the cup, took a sip, and handed it to Careyben, who was beside him.

Both the Elven Ranger and the Administrator of Grey Ridge have changed into the usual costumes of the Elves - long underwear of white silk, knee-length gray tunic and leggings woven from the spider silk of the silver-bellied spider, dragon skin boots, and Mithril belt, with only a few subtle differences.

"Kerryben," said the King of the Jungle, "the personnel who will go to Thundercastle this time are up to you. ”

"Is it still three hundred?"

"No," said the king, "five hundred." ”

Kerryben and Perrant both showed surprised expressions, the king of the Silvercrown Forest is a stingy and harsh elf, he cherishes his people like his own eyes, and the alliance with humans is just that the Dragon's Belly Pass happens to be in the territory of the humans, and the Dragon's Belly Pass is the only critical level where the orcs can invade the Silvercrown Jungle in a big way. In fact, Kerry knew that his father, the king of the Silver-crowned Forest, had also moved the idea of bringing the dragon's belly pass within range of the elven arrows, and that the humans should be grateful to Angeleth, the elven god of life, and the king regrettably abandoned the idea after carefully calculating the money, energy, and time required, especially the casualties of his people and the reaction of neighboring nations and city-states.

But in this way, for four hundred and sixty years, he had never sent fewer than two hundred elves and half-elves to Thundercastle, and at one time there were even only forty poor ones, and when the Norman Emperor of the Highlands sent a letter in his anger, he simply replied with a short note that looked like a message. Nothing was more cherished than the lives of his people, and the reason why he sent forty elves was because in his prediction, the orcs attacked Thundercastle that year, even if only humans could handle it, and if it weren't for the covenant, not a single elf in Thundercastle would have been seen.

The King of the Jungle was right, the fickle and vain goddess Auruel set off an unprecedented snowstorm two months later that covered the entire Dragonspine Mountains, and even though the orc priests had spilled a quarter of their possessions in the snow as a sacrifice and plea for her, their ranks still fell into the white abyss, and only a few lucky tribes reached the foot of Thundercastle, but what could they do without weapons and provisions? Even the women of the fort were able to overcome them with boiling water and feces and urine, and they were soon dead and wounded. The people of Thundercastle and the elves had a rare peaceful (albeit a somewhat cold) winter.

And this time the king of the jungle sent out five hundred.

"Elves, or half-elves," he said calmly, "you can pick whatever you want, whatever you see fit, even if it's my guards or mage regiments." ”

"I apologize to you - our king," Perrante asked, confused, "I know that we may face a rare warm winter, and I know that it will force the orcs to wage a large-scale war, but five hundred ......"

"Perrant," said the king of the forest, "I think I need to let you know one thing, Kerryben, and that is that these five hundred warriors or mages are not expected to do so to help humanity achieve victory, but to ensure that they can return to the forest. ”

"Is it going to get this bad?"

"It could be a little worse. The silver-blue eyes of the King of the Jungle turned to Perrante, and he immediately lowered his head, "Perrante, what have you lost the most from this attack on Grey Ridge by giants, ogres, and orcs, apart from my people?"

“...... Lotion. Perrante replied without hesitation, and none of the giants escaped, but when the elves opened their pouches, they found that all the potions were gone—the administrator of Grey Ridge paused slightly, revealing a look of solemnity and vigilance, "Will the Grey Robe also participate in this war?"

"The Red Robe," said the King of the Jungle, "isn't exactly the right message to me from the magical galaxy and wind, but caution is never a fault—and besides," he turned to Kerryben, "Wizard Cremar." ”

"He's going to be on the list. Carey Ben said.

A female elf suddenly stood up, and crystal droplets of water rolled down her body, her body was beautiful and healthy, flawless and vibrant.

She turned her head to look at Cremar's small pool, and sure enough, all she saw was water and a handful of black hair floating on the surface.

She shook her head helplessly, and laughed with the otter, who chirped very loudly.

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