The next day, Treant Territory.
Inside the mushroom farmhouse.
Isolde sat upright in a chair woven from vines, lightly tapping the tabletop with her fingers. She raised a brow, her eyes filled with undisguised suspicion.
"So, what you mean is, the people you sent to Iron Boot Town for trade went to a tavern for drinks, angered the local adventurers, nearly drew the sheriff's pursuit, then, while fleeing in a panic, accidentally discovered a child hidden in the convoy and brought her back?"
Chen Yu bounced once, his gelatinous body bobbing up and down in affirmation. "M-more or less. Believe it or not, the little one is with us now. We can't just leave her unattended."
"Why not let Treant Territory adopt her? You're all elves, so you should have more in common."
Isolde rubbed her brow, her voice full of helplessness. "Treant Territory only has woodland guards responsible for patrols and sentry duty, along with oak gardeners. We do not have any elven mothers capable of carefully watching over and educating a child."
She had wanted to refuse outright, but then she thought of an elven child growing up amid Slimes, Lizardfolk, and all manner of Demonic Beasts. She might not even learn the most basic language or etiquette. The more Isolde thought about it, the more pitiful it seemed.
Perhaps... Old Bloom, with his abundant experience, could help look after her. He had cared for quite a few Glimlin, so he should have some experience.
With that thought, Isolde sighed softly and nodded. "All right. Bring the child in and let me see her."
After receiving permission, the farmhouse's wooden door was gently pushed open a crack. Anvil, built like a sturdy barrel, cautiously poked his head inside and gave Isolde a guilty, awkward grin.
"Hello, Miss Elf..."