CHAPTER 232: LIGHT ELF

Inside the shop, Noah began his standard product introduction, watching Elena’s reactions carefully as her green eyes moved across the displays with growing amazement.

"These are my basic products," Noah explained, gesturing toward the bread and iced tea. "The bread accelerates natural healing by thirty percent, while the iced tea enhances mana reserves and regeneration for magical practitioners. Both effects last for ten minutes, and the effects are the same across all ranks."

Elena examined the golden loaves with the intensity of someone whose entire worldview was being challenged. "Thirty percent increase, no matter the rank? That’s... extraordinary."

"The effects are temporary but reliable," Noah confirmed, moving to his premium displays. "Now these items provide more significant benefits."

As he explained the protein bars, energy drinks, and other enhancement items, Elena’s expression changed from interest to unrestrained shock.

Her eyes were almost bulging, and her body could barely control its excitement. "Permanent attribute increases?" she breathed, her voice carrying the awe of someone who understood exactly how impossible such effects should be.

"These items would be considered rare in any kingdom. Whilst we have had similar items before, they were in our glory days, and they most certainly weren’t in abundance. How do you have so many?"

Noah smiled before saying. "Trade secrets,"

Noah then shifted the conversation toward one of the areas of his interest. "I have to admit, I’m curious about your kingdom’s situation. The divided territories, the ongoing conflict... it seems like a complex place."

Elena’s expression immediately hardened upon the topic brought up. "Complex is one way to describe it. Tragic would be more accurate."

She moved away from the product displays to face him directly, her green eyes conveying melancholy and stress that were evident in their depths. The weight of the civil war seemed to settle on her shoulders as she prepared to explain her kingdom’s tragic history.

Elena began, her voice carrying the reverence of someone recounting sacred history. "Our realm was once the jewel of this continent."

"The unified Kingdom of Aethermoor under the Golden Throne represented the pinnacle of elven civilisation. You name it, whether it was art, magic, culture, everything flourished in harmony for millennia. We were the most advanced civilisation across the world, we were at the peak of the world."

Her expression darkened as she continued. "But that was before the corruption took hold, before nature itself began rejecting those who would name themselves the shadow elves."

Noah listened carefully.

He was able to process not just her words but the underlying assumptions and prejudices that colored her narrative.

"You see," Elena explained with a patient tone. As if she were educating a foreigner about obvious truths that weren’t known to them.

"Elves are beings of natural magic. Our connection to the world’s life force is what defines us as a species. Light magic flows from this connection—it’s pure, harmonious, life-giving."

Noah nodded softly as he listened to her words. So far, everything she had said about her speicies aligned with his own understanding of them from human literature, and it made him ponder.

Did a human ever visit those elves? If so, how, and where?

Noah shook off the drifting thoughts and focused on Elena’s story. He would worry about that later; for now, he needed to listen to her side.

Elena gestured toward herself as an example. "My magic draws from the surrounding, from growth, from the positive energies that sustain all living things. This is how elves are meant to be."

Elena’s voice dropped to something approaching disgust. "But shadow magic? Hmph! It’s a perversion of our natural state. Those who practice it become... changed. Corrupted by energies that oppose life itself."

Noah found himself thinking of Earth’s history, the countless times groups had been declared "unnatural" or "corrupted" by those seeking to justify oppression. The language Elena used carried familiar echoes of ideologies he’d studied in school.

"Changed how, exactly?" he asked with a careful, neutral tone.

"Their skin grows pale, their colours change," Elena replied with disgust, as if she were describing a terrible disease. "Their eyes change from our unique green colour to shades of purple, violet, sometimes black. They become creatures of twilight and shadow, unable to harmonise with the pure light that nourishes us, the normal elves."

She moved closer to the window, gazing toward the dark western territories with visible sadness. "But the physical changes are nothing compared to what happens to their minds and souls. Shadow magic feeds on negative emotions—hatred, fear, despair. The more they use it, the more it consumes their capacity for joy, love, hope."

"They become hollow," Elena continued with growing passion. "Shells of what elves are meant to be, driven by base instincts and dark desires. It’s why they’re so violent, so cruel. The corruption has eaten away at everything good within them."

Noah noticed how her explanation framed the dark elves not as evil by choice, but as victims of some kind of supernatural corruption.

It was an interesting yet dangerous perspective that could justify almost any action taken against them.

"Is this corruption... contagious?" he asked, genuinely curious about the magical mechanics she was describing. Although he was asking, it didn’t mean that he fully believed in her part of the story.

"Not directly. But shadow magic can influence the weak-willed. That’s why we must maintain separation—contact with the corrupted ones risks spreading their taint to pure elves." Elena replied with obvious relief.

She turned back toward him with earnest conviction. "You have to understand, we don’t hate them because we want to. We mourn what they’ve lost, what they’ve become. Every shadow elf represents a tragedy—a member of our people who fell to corruption."

"But they can’t be saved?" Noah pressed, watching her reaction carefully.

Elena’s expression grew pained. "We’ve tried. For the first year after the division. The queen attempted purification rituals, healing ceremonies, everything our greatest light mages could devise."

"Some of the less corrupted ones could be partially restored," she admitted reluctantly. "But they never fully recovered. And the deeply corrupted ones... they fought against purification like it was torture. They preferred their darkness to salvation."