Strange Archmage

Harrot approached the Archmage amidst the curious gazes of the Elves. The Archmage reached out and gently touched Harrot's forehead.

For some reason, Harrot suddenly felt a little nervous. What if the System was discovered? What if they found out I'm a transmigrator?

These chaotic thoughts were merely a result of his anxiety and fear of loss, stemming from the vast power gap between him and the Archmage.

The Archmage didn't keep him anxious for long. He withdrew his hand, stroked his white beard, and said with interest, "This is truly astonishing. There's no sign of Elven blood, yet your soul strength is twice that of a normal person!"

"Hmm, a very rare case indeed. It seems that among the Human and Elven parents who bore you, the Human's strength must have been incredibly powerful, and the Elf was likely a new generation. The Human bloodline completely overshadowed the Elven, which is why you inherited only Human blood!"

"Elves are primarily strong in soul, so it's not uncommon for them to be surpassed by Human experts in other aspects!" The Archmage spoke eloquently, explaining to Harrot and the surrounding Elves why Harrot didn't resemble an Elf at all.

Harrot remained expressionless. Say what you will, it's all wrong anyway. I won't admit it, nor will I deny it. This way, I can enjoy the benefits without worrying about being exposed and blamed later.

The Archmage gave a definitive answer that Harrot was an Elf hybrid, and the handsome Elf became even more enthusiastic towards him. Elves are a very unified race.

However, Harrot couldn't shake the feeling that Archmage Iltiran was secretly watching him, which made him feel a bit creeped out. He'd rather drink with an odorous beauty than stay there any longer.

Harrot greeted the handsome Elf and left. As he departed, the Archmage said meaningfully, "Just who are you, really?"

Harrot broke out in a cold sweat upon hearing this, but then felt a bit strange, not understanding what the Archmage meant.

Did he discover that I'm a fusion of two souls? Or something else? Harrot looked back at the Archmage with an unnatural expression.

The Archmage smiled faintly: "Don't worry, I mean no harm, just curiosity. When you have time, you can come find me in the Elf Forest. We can discuss and exchange ideas."

Harrot nodded, saying he definitely would, and quickly fled the area. Archmage Iltiran's strength was far beyond what any Human Legendary Expert could compare to. The power of Magic was far from what the so-called "Heroic Bloodline" could contend with.

However, Harrot truly sensed no malice from the Archmage, so he didn't worry too much.

Seeing that Harrot hadn't abandoned her to celebrate with the other Elves, Tiona was incredibly touched and came forward for a hug.

Tiona's dirty golden hair, soaked and stained red with blood, was right in front of Harrot's nose. Harrot felt a surge in his stomach, wanting to vomit!

Harrot quickly pushed Tiona away. Elves have a sense of smell several times stronger than Humans; couldn't she smell herself?

Tiona had also said that she was no different from a normal Elf except for slightly lower soul strength and more developed muscles. Her sense of smell should be similar to that of ordinary Elves. So how could she eat normally with that smell?

Harrot subtly asked this question. Tiona brought a lock of hair to her nose, sniffed it, and said in confusion, "Doesn't this smell quite good? It's even a bit appetizing!"

Harrot "..." I heard some Orc tribes still like to eat raw meat and drink blood. It seems it wasn't a lie.

The banquet didn't last too long. Many people were wounded and very tired after a long, fierce battle. It finally ended with Marquis Prague's declaration of "Pioneering Alliance wins a great victory!"

Harrot pleaded endlessly and finally managed to stop Tiona's idea of spending the night in his tent. The Elves forbade Tiona from returning to camp before she washed herself, so she wanted to stay in Harrot's tent.

How could Harrot agree to this? If Tiona, with her current smell, entered his tent, he'd probably throw up everything he ate at the banquet.

Harrot literally dragged Tiona to a lake to bathe. Although Tiona was carefree, she wasn't completely indifferent to her chastity. She stuck her greatsword into the ground, warning Harrot not to peek.

Harrot had the desire but not the courage. He secretly cursed his luck and slipped back to his tent to sleep. Harrot closed his eyes and thought about what status Marcus would gain after the pioneering victory, and how many rewards he would be granted by Marcus.

At the very least, the large territory Marcus had originally mentioned should be no problem! The lands of the East are immensely vast; the territory ruled by the Thunder Tribe alone far exceeded the former Kingdom of Lucanir.

Marcus's contributions in the Alliance were second only to Marquis Prague's, so he should receive a substantial fiefdom! And as Marcus's foremost general, chief Knight, and absolute confidant, his treatment would undoubtedly be top-tier.

Harrot felt a little excited at this thought. He turned over and began to fantasize about bringing Sihrulu and Hill over and living the extravagant life of a lord.

Once the Hero's Water was prepared, he could also find a way to accompany bald men on dragon hunts or other heroic feats. Then he would be a newly established Heroic Noble!

Harrot drifted into sleep with beautiful visions of the future. He dreamt of today's battle, but in his dream, he replaced Tiona's role, bravely solo-killing the Centaur Royal Guard.

As for Tiona, she nestled against him like a small bird, whispering sweet nothings. Just as the two were about to enter the tent for "some couple's exercise," Archmage Iltiran slammed a meteor into his tent, crushing him into a meat patty.

"Huff~! Huff~! Huff~! It was a dream! Damn it, why couldn't that Archmage have shown up later?! My beautiful dream turned into a nightmare!"

Harrot knew a bit about dreams; they reflect the subconscious. It was perfectly normal that he lusted after Tiona, it didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was how afraid his subconscious seemed to be of Archmage Iltiran.

Hmm, it seems the Elf Forest is off-limits from now on! Harrot trusted his instincts. Since his subconscious felt the Archmage was dangerous, he wouldn't court disaster. It was just basic Magic; he wouldn't learn it if he didn't learn it!

Marcus came to call Harrot to a meeting. The Alliance had defeated the Thunder Tribe, and next was a large-scale sweep of the Centaurs in this land, relocating immigrants to build towns and villages.

However, the specific steps and measures had to be discussed carefully. Moreover, the allied army currently had many wounded and needed time to recover, but not too long to prevent the Centaurs from regrouping or other large tribes from occupying the land.

In the meeting room, there were over 100 people, mostly Nobles and their Knights. Harrot even had a chair, though he sat behind Marcus with little right to speak.

This greatly satisfied Harrot. All the other Knights, except for Marquis Prague's two confidantes, were standing!

The Alliance Nobles were somewhat impatient to establish a new nation. The plan was quite aggressive, and a decision was ultimately passed unanimously.

Ten Nobles who had suffered heavy losses would return to the Kingdom to rest and recruit soldiers. The remaining ten Nobles would first sweep and drive out the Centaurs.

Once those Nobles had recruited new soldiers, they would directly bring the first wave of migrating population to settle. Then, they would rotate, allowing the Nobles who hadn't returned to the Kingdom to rest and bring the second wave of people.

This would accelerate the clearing of the Thunder Tribe's territory, allow the wounded to recover and increase soldiers, and also facilitate the migration of people to begin establishing the nation.

There would be some hidden dangers after dividing the forces, but with the Thunder Tribe defeated, there were no strong enemies left. This risk was acceptable.

Among the ten Nobles returning was Marquis Prague. He was severely wounded in his fight with the Centaur Chieftain and would have difficulty recovering through self-healing alone, needing treatment from a priest at the Sun Temple.

Although it was two against one, Marquis Prague wanted to quickly defeat his opponent to demoralize the Centaur army, but also feared the Centaur Chieftain escaping and returning stronger.

Therefore, Marquis Prague chose the most reckless head-on fighting style. Grand Duke Lance was there to help, but Marquis Prague was the leader of the pioneering effort, so he certainly couldn't let Grand Duke Lance take the brunt of the damage!

So, the Centaur Chieftain's counterattacks mostly fell on Marquis Prague. If he didn't receive timely treatment, he would suffer many lingering problems in the future, perhaps even losing significant power and dropping in rank like that Centaur Commander.

With the Thunder Tribe cleared, the leaderless Centaurs were no different from the Magical Beasts in the wilderness and swamps. Well-organized armies or elite units would have no difficulty clearing them out.