Ah… the dream.
There I was, lounging in a chair made of coins, sipping tea brewed in liquid platinum....okay, maybe not literally, but it tasted like profit. My right hand held a scroll titled Quarterly Expansion Report, and let me tell you, the numbers were climbing like a squirrel on sugar.
"Projected market share—up by 17%. Shipping costs—down by 9%. Customer retention—skyrocketing."
I gave a dignified nod to a passing goose wearing a monocle. Obviously my accountant in this dream world. Things were great.
Then came the voice.
"Young Master, my lady, quickly, look outside the window. The environment is beautiful."
That was Clara. And that was also the end of my financial fantasy.
Before I could object to being yanked back to reality, Clara, the maid whose idea of personal space was apparently nonexistent, twisted my head to the side.
"Clara...ow..." I mumbled, rubbing my jaw.
Sylvia, who had been buried in the same stack of papers for five straight days like it was a holy text, finally lifted her head. Her eyes reflected the light streaming through the carriage window.
"Beautiful," she whispered.
No exaggeration. Not one bit. My eyes widened.
Outside, cascading waterfalls dropped from impossible heights, the mist dancing in the sunlight like threads of silver. The water was crystal clear, gliding over smooth stone ridges wrapped in emerald moss. Trees unlike anything from human lands towered in a gentle arc...some with lilac leaves, others glowing faintly blue. Petals floated down in slow spirals as if nature itself wanted us to take notice.
The air felt… different. Like my lungs had just discovered what oxygen was supposed to feel like. It wasn't just fresh...it was invigorating. My body tingled with how pure the mana was.
Clara smiled. "We are officially at the border, my lord. In a few minutes, we will reach the check post and then the envoy's residence."
I blinked and glanced at the barrage of Inspect windows flooding my vision. Everything around us—flora, fauna, even the birds pecking at fruit had trace mana readings. Low-tier, mostly, but still… mana.
I turned to Clara. "Even the animals here have mana?"
She nodded. "Yes, my lord. The Elvian Kingdom is rich in natural mana. Though it's not entirely suitable for humans, elves and fauna resonate well with it."
Sylvia joined in, still half clutching her precious report. "It's thanks to that the world has remained peaceful. Otherwise, the power struggles over such hotspots would never end."
She had a point.
"But tensions still remain," she added. "Because of the unique products and their unmatched quality. Especially wood and alchemical ingredients that can only be cultivated here."
I nodded slowly. "I can understand the caution the elves exercise. They're flanked on three sides by human empires."
Clara added softly, "That may be why it took them over a month to respond to our audience request."
"Which is why," I said with a grin, "it was a good call to send the letter from the castle. If we'd delayed it, we'd probably be roasting marshmallows in no-man's-land waiting for a reply."
Sylvia finally handed me the papers she'd been nurturing like a newborn. "I'm ready now."
I blinked. "Wow. Glad to hear you recognized you were ready, which you've been for at least a week."
Sylvia flushed slightly. "Well… it's my first time. Promise me you and Clara won't leave the room until I'm done?"
Clara nodded with a soft smile. "We won't, my lady."
I raised a brow. "Come on, at least pretend to ask me when I'm part of that 'we.'"
Clara tilted her head playfully. "Do you have other priorities over your fiancée, my lord?"
A barely-there smile touched Sylvia's lips. I could feel the smirk she was hiding. Betrayal.
"Of course not, Clara. Why would I?" I muttered.
Then under my breath, "Remind me when we return to the castle, would you?"
Clara flinched at my threat.
Sylvia joined in. "We'll remind him together, Clara."
Great. A team-up. Clara turned to me with a victorious grin like she'd just outbid me at an auction.
I sighed. "I need new allies."
The carriage slowed.
A cold breeze slipped in as if to mock me, brushing against my neck like an icy serpent. I shivered as the carriage rolled to a stop.
The front carriage had already attracted attention. A group of Elvian guards—no armor, but bows on their backs and cloaks that screamed forest assassin, spoke with Commander Vernin and General Rass, who rode up front.
Vernin approached. "My lord, the Elvian guards request to inspect the carriages. Shall we grant them permission?"
"Let them," I said, stretching out a bit before stepping down from the carriage after Clara and Sylvia.
Orion and his ministers dismounted as well. As my feet touched the ground, the cold bit. Literally.
I winced. "Clara… I think it's time for those fluffy jackets."
She bowed slightly. "Understood."
She turned to Sylvia. "May I bring them for you too, my lady?"
"Yes, please," Sylvia replied. "It's really cold here."
Clara returned in seconds with the garments.
As I stepped into the insulated leggings, I looked at Clara. "Don't you need a pair?"
She shook her head, a faint glow flickering around her. "My mana's nature is fire. Circulating it is enough to keep me warm internally."
I squinted at her. "Is that the change you mentioned after your breakthrough?"
"Yes, my lord. After sensing the nature of my mana, I could finally begin using it more actively. Humans may not be able to summon elements like elves, but we can still benefit from the nature of our mana."
I gave a long mental nod. So that's how it is.
From my Inspect, I knew Clara's cultivation had reached 56%. So that's typically the point when humans begin sensing their mana's nature.
.
The next time our carriage halted, it was in front of what could only be described as an ancient mansion...more accurately, a relic with delusions of grandeur. Age clung to its structure like ivy, and in some places, quite literally so. Vines had crept along the sides of its walls, coiling across faded stone columns and overtaking what little decor remained.
Most of the exterior paint had peeled off long ago, leaving only ghostly traces of color behind. The windows were tall, their frames lined in what once must have been intricate carvings, now eroded into unreadable shapes. It didn't whisper elegance, it mourned it. And for a moment, standing there, it brought back memories...memories with my mother... I had very little fondness for.
The carriages stopped just before the entrance steps, where two Elvian guards stood upright. They wore no armor, only deep emerald-green tunics trimmed with silver thread, but their posture exuded a silent authority that made even seasoned warriors pause.
Until now, the elves in the forest had remained concealed beneath their cloaks, blurring into the surroundings, but here, facing them directly, their features were unmistakable.
Their ears were long and elegantly pointed, their frames slender and graceful. They carried themselves with an effortless composure, as if the air around them bent to their will. But more than appearance, what struck me was the sheer sensation radiating from them, an overwhelming presence of mana, rich and unrestrained. It wasn't volatile or aggressive, but so abundant that it felt unreal, like standing in the presence of a divine reservoir. This… was what it felt like to be near someone who overflowed with mana beyond human understanding.
My father was already walking toward lord Hugo with his usual dignified smile.
Lord Hugo... well...umm...He had been crouching... at the foot of a nearby tree, muttering complaints to a squirrel that had apparently rejected his attempts to hand it some dry fruits.
"Lord Hugo," my father called out to him.
Upon hearing his name, he turned with an expression that was halfway between annoyance and amusement. His crimson eyes flicked up like a guilty thief, his hands hiding the dry fruits, and then his posture straightened.
"Lord Orion," Hugo greeted, brushing invisible dust from his coat. "The journey was comfortable. All set, I take it?"
That tone, steady, composed, yet casual, still caught me off guard at times. To see someone his age carry himself with such poise… even my father noted it. He nodded approvingly.
"Yes, everything is prepared," Father said, extending a hand toward him. "Please sit tight and watch how our ministers seal the deal for us."
Hugo returned the smile with equal warmth and clasped the offered hand. "All the best, Lord Orion. I look forward to witnessing House Orion's capabilities."
They held the handshake for a beat longer than needed, before my father broke into a brief chuckle and replied, "Of course, Lord Hugo. We won't disappoint you."
With that, he turned and joined his ministers, who had already begun unloading the scrolls and documents for the presentation. We were led forward by a group of elven maids, dressed in soft grey robes that contrasted starkly with the vivid greenery surrounding the mansion. Their movements were graceful, almost weightless.
Inside, the mansion told a divided story. Certain areas had been cleaned thoroughly, floors polished, furniture dusted, floral arrangements freshly placed. Yet other corners of the hallway bore the truth: cracked tiles, faded drapery, and doors that hadn't been opened in months. It was evident that this place served only ceremonial purposes. The envoy clearly didn't reside here unless summoned.
We were guided into a spacious chamber, dimly lit by thin beams of natural light streaming through high windows. At the far end of the room sat an elderly elf, his silver beard cascading well past his chest, ears longer and thinner than the younger guards outside. His eyes, pale like a faded sea, carried wisdom far beyond a human's lifetime.
As we entered, the elf rose and walked slowly toward us. His bow was deep, practiced, not of obligation, but of old courtesy.
"Welcome, Viscount Orion. And Young lord of Falcon, Lord Hugo," he greeted with a voice that resonated like a low bell. Clara, ever present, stayed a step behind us and gave a discreet thumbs-up. I gave her a nod and a small smile.
We followed the elf's invitation into the hall, where seats had been arranged in clean rows. Each row bore a long polished table, and a single table, smaller and solitary, was positioned at the front, facing them all. That was where the old elf returned and seated himself with a gentle sigh.
Father and his ministers took the front row, scrolls unfurled and organized like an array of polished weapons. Lord Hugo, with neither scroll nor aide, sat in the second row, arms resting casually on the table, as though here to enjoy a play rather than conduct business. I lingered for a moment, debating my place, but with no documents of my own, I chose to follow his example.
As I reached the row, Lord Hugo looked at me and, with a quiet motion of his hand, gestured to the seat beside him. I bowed slightly and took the seat.
Once everyone was settled, the old elf stood again.
"Good day, gentlemen," he began, voice courteous but no longer warm. "I am Eldrin Vothsar. I have been appointed as envoy by His Highness, the King of Elvia, to the Valthryon Empire. I do not intend to waste your time with extended pleasantries. You may begin when you see fit."
With a flick of his wrist, several elven maids moved fluidly to the doors. A soft creak followed as the double doors swung open. What came next was unexpected.
A silver-framed mana-pulled trolley, an Aevir Cart, rolled into the room, guided by two of the maids.
Layered trays of food and drinks were removed and distributed gracefully, each item meticulously arranged before us. Sliced fruits, warm bread, herbal infusions, even delicacies that glimmered faintly with mana, each item was clearly meant to impress.
As the final glass was set down, Eldrin Vothsar gave a nod.
"I hope to have fruitful discussions," he said, his tone cooling by several degrees. "May the goddess Sylviora grace us with her divine blessing and boundless love."
And with that, the diplomacy began.
My father raised a hand, and the head minister rose from his seat. With a graceful bow and practiced confidence, he began the presentation.
And I, for now, simply listened.