Above The Sky
Chapter 1074: 142 The Ordinary Siren (2/2)

Chapter 1074: Chapter 142 The Ordinary Siren (2/2)

Elves.

In ancient legends, elves are almost immortal longevous races, a species known for their longevity, elegance, artistry, and dexterity.

They are synonymous with beauty and strength, the favored of nature, the Son of the Forest.

Yet in reality, elves are no different from humans.

Elves are nimble, have advantages in spirit energy, and quick nerve responses, but the various Plains People also have their capabilities.

Whether it’s the White Folks’ spirit energy talent, the Golden Folk’s adaptability to all regions, or the Iron Folk’s robust physique, all are not inferior to the elves’ talents.

Moreover, elves have no advantage in lifespan… Perhaps there was some slight difference before the Calamity of Heavenly Fall, but after, essentially, elves are just an unimpressive branch under the major category of ‘Terra Humans.’

So, fifty years is extraordinarily lengthy for elves.

Glarvie was once damaged by biological toxins during an experiment, and his lifespan is already shortened, and the mission he has adhered to his whole life has become a joke; if his life ends this way, his epitaph will likely be blank.

Not because there is nothing to write, but because if written, it would seem like a joke.

So he must do something.

Not for the homeland. His nation Canaan Moore betrayed him, though he understands the struggle and alliance between two countries, the passion in his heart has frozen cold.

Not for family. Fifty years have passed, when he covertly left with the mindset of ‘already being dead,’ his parents had long passed away, and others, whether the girl from his hometown or friends, probably have married or forgotten him.

Only for himself.

Glarvie closed his eyes. As a Bio-Alchemy Master, the great scholar Glarvie Fieye immersed his heart in his research.

For fifty years, he has relied on this method to endure the boundless lonely dark night, using pure academia to soothe his repeatedly doubting and shaken heart.

Only for himself.

Only to give an account of his dreams.

At this moment, scenes from the past surfaced in Glarvie’s mind, his teacher in Canaan Moore, Master Dimoka, showing him the astonishing research which ignited shock and longing deep within him.

The teacher’s face burning with ambition and unending desire for knowledge, later filled with aging regrets, echoed as they overlapped. His final instructions still linger in the ears till now.

“Glarvie… Remember, our research… is for all elves.”

At that time, Glarvie, who was just over thirty, his face burning with ambition and endless pursuit of knowledge mirrored his teacher, listening to the teachings, he clenched his fist: “We strive so that all elves can become a true ‘elf’!”

— Longevity, keen, beautiful, graceful… not the current mediocre elf, but truly perfect, just like the elves in the stories and legends!

“But in this regard, the deepest research is in The Empire and the City of Knowledge… Bring them back. Bring the future back, back to our homeland!”

He opened his eyes.

The aged red-haired elf hadn’t reached the old age of his teacher’s demise yet, but the signs of decline were already showing.

He indeed fulfilled his teacher’s obsession.

He brought back the ‘treasures’ The Empire was always researching… even if just a part.

This precisely is Glarvie’s dissatisfaction with his homeland, with his hometown. The legislators and bureaucrats of Canaan Moore are too cautious, too conservative. Their research is still limited to magical beasts and experimenters, far less efficient and radical compared to the Imperial Spirit Knowledge Institute and the Truth Institute. It’s not due to a humanitarian concern, Glarvie knows well, the Upper House’s inability to make decisions is precisely because the political system of the elves decides they restrain each other, no matter which side wants breakthrough research progress, it will be obstructed and suppressed by the opposing side.

This is also the reason why his teacher strived for Canaan Moore for a lifetime, delayed his life, and could not achieve the ultimate result, the political system of elves is destined for such mutual drag outcomes.

Yes, the parliament won’t make the worst choice, it won’t usher in inconceivable enormous turmoil like the Dark Moon unrest of The Empire, but it also turns Canaan Moore into a stagnant pool.

Elves are not less intelligent than Imperial People, not lacking talented researchers like them, nor is it due to an immature talent cultivation system.

The lag of elves is merely due to internal social structure.

Merely due to politics.

Too foolish, too closed. The elder can’t help but sigh.

What he saw, what he learned from the Spirit Wisdom Institute, could reflect the ignorance and sluggishness of Canaan Moore. Imperial People are indeed bold in exploration, worthy of being the Overlord who expanded from a city to half a continent during the Lost Epoch, even in decline, exploring the frontier internally.

Glarvie still remembers when he arrived at the Imperial Capital, that towering city not inferior to World Tree City, and saw the scene at the Spirit Wisdom Institute headquarters. That like a mountain, like a sea, filled with millions of books, research materials, and pictorials covering the whole building, made his then young self feel dizzy.

To learn all that, to acquire the knowledge that could help the future of elves, would probably require everlasting time… Knowledge has no limit, but human cognition does, Glarvie lurked and learned for fifty years and ultimately arrived at just a few simple conclusions.