Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 22 Discussion

Toluviel was wearing a black cotton-padded coat over a brown linen shirt.

The shirt collar was loose, and the view revealed when the female elf bent over instantly caught Wayne's attention.

However, Wayne only admired her for a second or two before looking away. He met Toruville's gaze, gave her a cheerful smile that only a young man would have, and said:

"Of course, Toruville, thank you for the invitation. I'm a little hungry too."

The female elf did not notice Wayne's little movements. She nodded, made way for the tent exit, and waited until Wayne climbed out of the tent before walking alongside him and leading him toward the camp.

Perhaps because it was dinner time, the camp was unusually lively. Elves, dwarves, and halflings, men and women, young and old, were all queuing up in an orderly fashion around three large, steaming pots to get their food.

Wayne roughly counted that there were about a hundred residents in the camp, and judging from their attire and equipment, about thirty of them were capable of fighting as warriors.

Noticing Wayne's gaze, Toruviel pursed her lips before speaking in a calm yet sorrowful tone:

"We started with more than three hundred men. We fled here from Ad Kale, the capital of Kovind. Half of them died on the way and were brutally murdered by Kovind soldiers."

"The two villagers we let go yesterday have discovered our whereabouts."

"I wasn't sure if they would inform on us, so I had no choice but to lock them up as prisoners."

Wayne nodded in understanding. To protect their own people and prevent them from being tracked by Cordwin's soldiers, capturing witnesses or even killing them was something they had to do.

Following Toluviel, they arrived at a relatively clean campfire where a dozen elves and dwarves dressed as warriors were having a meal. Upon seeing the female elven leader, they all showed respect and stood up to bow to her.

Clearly, Toluviel enjoys a very high status among this group of non-human races.

The two had just found a blanket to sit down when a female elf brought over two bowls of steaming food and respectfully handed them to them.

Wayne casually rummaged through his bowl a few times. Potatoes, chunks of meat, beets, and dough balls—the meal looked pretty good. Regardless of the taste, at least the ingredients were plentiful.

He took a sip of the soup; it was sweet and salty, barely palatable, but of course, it couldn't compare to his culinary skills at all, and could hardly be called delicious.

Wayne scooped a spoonful of meat into his mouth, casually remarking:

"This is still within the territory of Cordwin, and you are surrounded by human villages and towns."

"Toluville, perhaps you should flee further away, to the primeval forests of the Blue Mountains, where there are few people, rugged roads, and monsters that roam year-round, making it difficult for humans to find you."

The female elf leader also took a sip of soup and then put the wooden bowl aside.

She stared at the roaring campfire, snorted, and said resolutely:

"I will not flee from Kovind. Countless of my compatriots are in danger here, waiting for our rescue."

"Humans treat us like fat sheep, slaughtering us at will."

"But I will tell them that elves are not cowards. When faced with swords, we will take up swords; when faced with death, we will fight back with death. No one can take away our right to live."

Seeing that the topic was getting heavy, Wayne sighed, but still spoke frankly:

"There are too many humans, and their soldiers are well-equipped and have received professional war training."

"Your warriors are few and far between, and you cannot defeat them in a direct confrontation. When faced with their encirclement and suppression, you cannot even protect yourself."

"What you need to do now is to preserve your strength, keep a low profile, and seek out more non-human races willing to resist."

"Only by uniting enough strength and having the ability to protect yourself will humanity truly hear your voices, instead of treating you as thieves and bandits and arbitrarily strangling you."

Seeing Toluville looking at him, Wayne thought for a moment and couldn't help but say a few more words:

"The power of elves is actually not weak. You have long lifespans, are neither lazy nor stupid, and can become master craftsmen in any industry by relying on experience and skills. If conditions permit, you can use these skills to quickly accumulate wealth and power."

"It's just that because the number of elves is too scattered, you will always be a minority in any city or village, and you will never have the power to resist."

"But the entire northern kingdom, all the elves combined, is a force that no country dares to underestimate."

"So what you lack is a banner, an excellent leader who can unite you."

"Perhaps, one day, when the elves reunite, possess thousands of soldiers, occupy a territory, and under the leadership of a wise leader, they will be able to rebuild the elven kingdom and be reborn from the ashes."

After listening to Wayne's words, Toruville remained silent for a long time before asking in a slightly expectant voice:

"You are an elf with ideas, Wayne."

"You know how to resist, how to protect yourself, and how to fight."

"Perhaps you should join our cause and help our fellow human beings escape persecution by humanity."

"Fight to liberate inhuman races."

Looking at the elf's expectant eyes, Wayne couldn't help but give an awkward smile. As a young man with a modern soul, he was fine with talking big, but to actually do something like liberating a race, to be honest, he was completely unprepared.

Wayne coughed lightly, trying to keep his voice calm, and refused:

"I'm sorry, Toruville, I am a witcher and must remain neutral."

"I am well aware of my own capabilities; I am not capable of sacrificing my life for others."

Toruvel was somewhat disappointed upon hearing this. This principle of neutrality among witchers had been widely practiced in the North for hundreds of years, so it was not surprising.

She took a flask from her waist, tilted her head back, took a big gulp, exhaled a breath of stale air, and then handed it to Wayne, saying:

"Try it, Wayne. This is my own homemade cider, a secret recipe taught to me by my mother. It's probably the only thing she left me."

"Your opinion is very insightful, Wayne. I will consider it carefully."

Seeing Toluviel's pretty face flushed from the alcohol, Wayne hesitated for a moment before taking the flask and drinking a sip.

I must say, it tastes really good. It's sweet with a hint of alcohol and a subtle floral fragrance. Even in modern society, it would be a great drink.

He squinted and took another gulp, then tilted his head back and exhaled a breath of stale air. After considering for a few seconds, he said to the female elf:

"Torviel, although we witchers cannot join your cause and become enemies of all human society."

"But we can be friends, and it's not unacceptable for me to help my friends with their requests without violating the principle of neutrality."

(End of this chapter)