A nation was made up of ordinary people and great figures alike.
The few led the many, and that held true here too.
Vanaheim was bustling.
John walked through it in his wizard robes, spotting elves with pointed ears.
They resembled the Wild Hunt somewhat, but unlike them, these elves favored green.
It was the color of closeness to nature.
Vanaheim maintained good relations with the elves of Alfheim.
Both societies revered magic.
Elves occasionally came here for exchanges.
John also saw a Magic Master with a lizard's head. The haughty elves looked eager to steer clear of the beastman.
To put it in more familiar terms, their dislike was like Snape encountering Lockhart.
Elves blessed by nature were arrogant, no matter where they came from.
The group of elves entered the resplendent palace in the center.
It resembled Asgard's Golden Palace, but rather than golden splendor, this place emphasized antiquity and heritage.
That also reflected the difference between their rulers. Asgard favored warriors, while Vanaheim was a nation of magic.
Quite a few alien races came here for exchanges too.
John had never seen a scene like this in Asgard.
They spoke different languages, and some traded goods.
John recognized a few space pirates.
Judging by their bearing, these people were smugglers.
Suddenly, John stopped.
He turned his head, his gaze passing through the crowd to settle on a silver-haired man.
The man had not expected John to notice him.
"If your magic teacher taught you basic manners, you should know that entering someone else's mind with mind magic is rude."
John's voice rang out in the man's mind, startling him.
John had no intention of letting this ill-mannered fellow off.
He had the Unicorn's mind magic protecting him. Any outside intrusion would provoke a counterattack.
The scene before