Chapter 97: Leaffall City
2014-12-04
Author: Floating Tower (Author)
By the warm campfire.
Aladdin was preparing a late-night snack, which was essentially slices of some kind of meat seasoned with spices and roasted. The plot natives, the Halflings, knew how to enjoy life; they would spend at least half of their adventuring wealth on making their lives more comfortable, and Halfling adventures didn’t last long. They often returned home to retire after earning a bounty. Vivian had already eaten her fill, and Gloria burped for the first time, her face slightly flushed as she entered the carriage.
Soren, on the other hand, had a good appetite; the stronger one’s physique, the better the digestive ability. His food intake had doubled compared to before.
For instance, he now carried jerky with him, primarily to avoid situations where he needed to cook during a battle; he could sustain himself for a while with jerky. Once he broke through to the fourth tier, things would improve significantly, and his endurance would be greatly enhanced; he could go without food for seven or eight days in a row without issue. He was somewhat knowledgeable about barbecuing; the two sat by the fire skewering and eating meat. Perhaps it was being in the company of a foodie that surprisingly unlocked Soren’s basic cooking skills.
He now had as many as 20 points in it.
Basic skills comprised many categories, not only affecting combat capabilities but also including forging, cooking, tailoring, and more. These skills weren’t very impactful, and few trained them seriously. Weapon forging and armor forging similarly had limits; creating exceptional-grade equipment required alchemy. The most typical example was the wizard’s robe—many high-tier robes required special materials, such as the tough spider silk from the Underdark. Making clothing from such silk wasn’t something a regular tailor could achieve. As for wizards, you couldn’t expect them to master sewing skills while also learning so many other things.
Thus, high-tier exceptional items had always been quite rare.
Aladdin leaned against the carriage, smoking a pipe, and handed Soren a small pouch of tobacco. He chuckled, “Try the tobacco from the Norodod family; it’s the best in northern Shire.”
Soren didn’t refuse, reaching out to take it and feeling a strand to light up. He rarely drank; when necessary, tobacco could help ease pain. Sometimes, it could distract him from injuries. Halfling-grown tobacco was hard to come by even if one had money; it was a favorite among many wizards. When lit, it emitted a faint fragrance that could help refresh one when needed. Its effect was similar to the incense lit by Gloria, though tobacco was typically favored by male wizards.
The night grew deep.
The Halfling spread out a blanket and rolled into it to sleep; it was uncertain if he had fallen asleep, as Wanderers found it difficult to do so easily.
Wanderers bore the heaviest responsibilities in adventurer teams. They had to remain constantly vigilant.
If ambushed, the Wanderer would undoubtedly be the first questioned, so for a long time, they preferred to travel alone due to the arduous nature of their tasks. They led the way in treacherous terrains, dealt with traps; at night, while wizards meditated and warriors snored, the Wanderers had to remain alert, stealing moments of rest in safety. A higher-tier ranger could replace them, but having a warrior keep watch in dangerous places was hardly useful; one would never know when the enemy sneaked in. It was more convenient to move alone, to come and go at will. Quite comfortable.
Faint howls of wolves echoed from afar.
Soren rested on the carriage, and Vivian tugged at the corner of his shirt. He smiled and patted her little head, signaling that she didn’t need to go inside the carriage. Although Halflings were friendly, he would not let his guard down, even with the protective magic circle set by the witch; he still felt more secure keeping watch himself, otherwise he wouldn’t sleep well at night. The weather had grown much colder, indicating that winter might arrive early this year. It seemed it would be much colder than in previous years.
Aladdin gradually fell into a deep sleep, likely yearning for the kind of journey where he could simply sleep soundly.
He probably wouldn’t dare sleep soundly in the wilderness.
Soren sat upright under a blanket, occasionally standing to move about cautiously. He listened to the distant sounds; the wolf pack had discovered their campfire but wisely did not approach. If the pack wasn’t very hungry, they primarily preyed on beasts, as attacking travelers would thin their numbers—a challenging plight for any pack.
By morning, Soren’s body was covered in a layer of white frost.
The weather was truly cold.
With 20 points of exceptional physique, Soren didn’t mind it much, but when Vivian woke and saw the frost on his eyebrows, a pained expression appeared on her little face. She wiped off the frost from him with her small hands, and then blew on it with her little mouth, rubbing his hand vigorously, “Brother? Are you cold?”
Soren kissed her forehead and smiled, “Not cold. This slight chill is nothing.”
The weather had indeed changed.
In the morning, when he breathed out, white mist filled the air. Gloria frowned and said softly, “This year’s winter has come over a month earlier than usual.”
Soren nodded slightly but said nothing.
After Aladdin woke up, he first stretched a bit and then began to gather some dry firewood to make gruel. He was well-equipped; after a simple breakfast, the group set off again. Perhaps because the route ahead had been cleared by the merchant caravan, they encountered no monsters on the way. This journey continued for two days, and by the fifth day, they finally reached the vicinity of Leaffall City.
This was the territory of the Half-Elves.
In this area, Half-Elves were quite common; they had slightly pointed ears, more slender and agile bodies than humans, and visibly more attractive faces. However, most Half-Elves had been significantly mixed with human bl**d, their elven bl**d diluted. The villages resembled those of humans but had a lot more arrow towers and watchtowers. They produced longbowmen abundantly, more numerous than the elves, as the elf’s lower strength made them tire out easily while using longbows, despite having high agility.
Humans had sufficient strength but lacked the necessary skill, as training longbowmen took too much time. They were far inferior to crossbowmen and ordinary archers.
Half-Elves combined the strengths of both races, possessing good strength and inheriting the elves’ talent for archery.
Nearly every village here had longbowmen, and some towns even featured longbow guard squads. Among all the mixed-race groups, Half-Elves fared the best. Others, like Half-Orcs, were usually either subjugated slaves or wanderers. Here, they were quite exclusive; Half-Elves were wary of any non-Half-Elf beings, watching outsiders with suspicion. Having once faced similar rejection in human and elven societies, they were wary of others.
The so-called harmony among races was merely a slogan propagated by idealists.
Soren and the others didn’t linger and headed straight to Leaffall City, finally reaching it on the sixth day of their travel.
“Alright. I’m going to the Iron Dwarves now.”
The small Halfling jumped down from the carriage and waved to Vivian, who was about his height. Then he left casually. “Goodbye, lovely little girl. Goodbye, esteemed witch. Goodbye, companions.”
“If you get the chance to visit Shire, I’ll treat you to roasted sturgeon.”
Parting was a normal occurrence.
Even for a well-acquainted adventurer team, moments of separation would eventually come.
Vivian looked a bit downcast, but she quickly recovered, smiling as she sorted through the gifts she had received, her little face full of joy. She rather liked that Halfling because he gave her a sense of camaraderie; compared to other children, she seemed too intelligent and mature. Thus, only a Halfling who looked like a grown-up but was child-sized brought her the joy of meeting a friend.
Leaffall City bore the style of the Elves.
They mostly worshiped the Elven Pantheon, although a small portion had different faiths. The Half-Elves had their own deities, but they were very weak, mere weak divine powers, unable to offer them any protection. The city was lined with sycamore trees, and once autumn came, leaves would fall in abundance, appearing very poetic. They revered the legendary Phoenix, which was why they loved sycamore trees.
The Phoenix had many names.
Monks called it the Phoenix, Priests referred to it as the Sun Bird, and Wizards named it the Arcane Ash.
It existed during the time of the Arcane Empire.
After that, it became increasingly rare. More uncommon than deities, more powerful than giant dragons. It is said that a fire element god with strong divine power from the elemental plane extended an olive branch to them. These beautiful yet deadly beings had long since departed this world. Legends say that the skies they flew over would be left with brilliant flames, and when they landed, everything would turn to ashes. The flames on them would only extinguish at the moment of d*ath. This holy flame could cause hundreds of points of holy fire damage per second.
Thus, they were beautiful yet not approachable.
Leaffall City had two iconic buildings. One was a thirty-meter tall sculpture of the Phoenix in the central square, with wings spreading over twenty meters. The other was a dome tower over three hundred meters high, which was the domain of the Autumn Leaf Council, specifically the council of spellcasters within the Half-Elven community. However, neither of these were the most eye-catching; what truly drew attention was an iron pillar atop the dome tower, radiating a silver-white light, glimmering in sunlight and somewhat blinding when viewed closely.
That was the shimmering brilliance of mithril; the pillar, which looked like a lightning rod, was actually the legendary Arcane Crystal Cannon.
In the minds of mortals, the Arcane Cannon should be a massive, heavy artillery piece mounted on city walls, much like the cannons used by dwarven gnomes in stories. With their impoverished imaginations, they found it hard to conceive what the legendary Arcane Cannon actually looked like, only able to envision wizards loading something called Arcane Crystals and using incantations to fire it, then amid the rumbling sound, the cannon would instantly knock a giant dragon down.
Yeah, yeah.
It felt exhilarating just to think about it.
But in reality, it was not like that at all; the Arcane Cannon fired in a straight line, not in a parabolic trajectory, making it practically useless when mounted on city walls—it could wipe out its own forces with one shot. It was born during the time of the Arcane Empire and was meant to be used in conjunction with Floating Cities, with a maximum attack range of one thousand kilometers, delivering devastating strikes from the aerial vantage point.
Oh, right.
Its full name was the Arcane Crystal Superconducting Pulse Cannon.
