Chapter 174 Bruise
AI Model: gemini-2.5-flash
He had the servants take the mages to settle in, then asked Harris, "Where is Luna? Is she still looking after her army of moles?"
"Oh, her," Harris couldn't help but chuckle when Luna was mentioned.
"A few Elves came to the territory, and she just had to provoke them. At first, they ignored her, but yesterday they finally couldn't take it anymore and beat her up. Now she's in her room recovering from her injuries."
Roger was stunned. Such a thing happened?
"Are her injuries serious?"
"Not serious. Those Elves were very careful with their blows; they didn't break any bones or tendons. She just took a few hits to the face and has some bruises."
"Then why did she provoke others? There must be a reason, right?"
It couldn't be that she had nothing better to do after eating her fill, could it?
After all, they were all of the same Elven race.
"Sigh, Dark Elves are naturally at odds with other Elves. The Elves initially maintained their etiquette and didn't bother with her. But she, thinking they were afraid of her, pushed her luck and ended up getting beaten."
Roger was truly speechless.
Is this kind of thing innate?
Luna had always stayed in the Land of the Fallen before; she probably hadn't even seen other Elves. Where did such deep animosity come from?
"I'll go see her."
He arrived outside Luna's room and knocked on the door.
After a while, Luna's muffled voice came from inside. "Who is it?"
"It's me."
Luna was silent for a moment, then reluctantly said, "Come in."
He pushed the door open and saw Luna lying on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, only her slightly reddened pointed ears visible.
"I heard you were injured?"
"Mm." A muffled reply came from the pillow.
"Why did you provoke them?"
Luna suddenly lifted her head. Sure enough, there were several obvious bruises on her face, and her sky-blue eyes were full of grievance and indignation.
"The way they looked at me! That condescending look! As if I was some kind of dirty thing! I just couldn't stand it!"
"But I heard that you were the one who went looking for trouble with them? It seemed they ignored you at first?"
Luna's eyes flickered, and her voice dropped. "So what if I went first! Who told them to look at me like that! And they must have been secretly mocking me! Saying I was an impure Dark Elf!"
She grew more agitated as she spoke, as if trying to convince herself. "This is me striking first!"
Seeing her putting on a brave front, yet inwardly cowardly, desperately making excuses for herself, Roger almost laughed out loud.
She was like someone suffering from persecutory delusion; others might have just looked out of curiosity or taken a second glance, and she would feel that the other party was full of malice, insisting on making a fuss to prove her "threat," only to end up getting a rebuff.
However, she was a patient now, so he could only suppress his laughter.
"So, what was the result of striking first? Are the injuries on your face the 'striking' effect you wanted?"
Luna opened her mouth, then dejectedly lowered her head, like a deflated ball, muttering softly, "How was I to know they were so good at fighting…".
Seeing her timid and wronged appearance, Roger shook his head helplessly.
"If this incident was them bullying you for no reason, I would definitely help you get justice. But now, you actively provoked them, and you were taught a lesson because you were not strong enough. I can't just be unreasonable and punish them, can I? What would be the difference then from those nobles who bully others by relying on their power?"
Luna's head drooped even lower, her fingers unconsciously tugging at the bedsheet, clearly understanding that she was in the wrong.
Roger looked at her like this, and his tone softened. "Don't do such things as actively seeking a beating anymore. The Elven race's arrogance isn't directed at you alone; they look at almost all races with that kind of gaze."
Luna pouted. Although still somewhat unwilling, her voice clearly weakened. "I understand."
After comforting her for a few more sentences, Roger left the room.
He couldn't help but ponder another problem.
The number of people from different races and backgrounds in the territory would increase, and how to effectively manage them and prevent internal strife would be a significant challenge.
Should he formulate relevant laws?
Or divide regions?
Simply relying on decrees to forcibly isolate or punish would likely exacerbate divisions, appearing rigid and lacking inclusiveness.
And letting it go unchecked would obviously lead to more trouble.
A more flexible and motivating approach was needed.
But he couldn't think of any good ideas for a while.
Perhaps discussing it with Anna or Elicis might provide some inspiration.
They held high positions and had extensive knowledge, so they should have more experience in handling complex relationships and balancing various forces.
He arrived at Walter's residence and saw him hunched over a desk, writing something.
"Lord, you're back." Walter quickly stood up and bowed.
"Mr. Walter, are you accustomed to living here?"
"Yes, it's very good here." Walter's tone was sincere.
The room still had only a bed, a table, and a chair, nothing else.
"I know the current environment is still a bit simple, but it will improve significantly in a while."
Roger looked around the overly plain room, his tone apologetic.
A scholar's residence should not be so meager.
Walter, however, smiled indifferently and patted the thick notebook on the table.
"My Lord, for me, having a stable residence, ample paper, and an undisturbed research environment is already immense happiness. These external conditions are not that important."
As he spoke, he held up a blank sheet of paper and a fountain pen. "Especially the wonderful writing tools and paper provided by the Lord. For a scholar, this is a more precious gift than any splendid decoration."
"As long as you're satisfied." Roger nodded, his expression a bit more solemn. "I came today to tell you some news from outside. The little trick I played last time apparently didn't completely fool everyone."
He had originally thought his "Prince and the Pauper" trick in Simon City had worked, but it was clear he had underestimated those people.
Walter put down his paper and pen, his expression also becoming serious. "Has someone found their way here?"
"They haven't found their way here yet. I've heard some rumors that the bounty for you has already reached one hundred million crystal coins."
"One hundred million crystal coins?"
Walter was silent for a moment, then smiled bitterly and shook his head. "One hundred million crystal coins, they really think highly of my old bones."
There was no fear in his eyes, but rather a calmness that had long been anticipated.
"So, Lord, how do you plan to deal with this 'trouble' of mine? Hand me over in exchange for this astonishing wealth, or…"
"Mr. Walter, since I promised to shelter you, I will naturally keep my word." Roger interrupted him, his tone firm. "I will not betray my trust for this amount of money. You can continue to stay here with peace of mind."
Seeing his stance, a trace of emotion flickered in Walter's eyes. "Thank you, Lord."
"The good news is that they currently have no clues pointing here."
Although he knew that a bounty of one hundred million crystal coins was enough to drive everyone involved crazy, even if they were crazy, they still needed clues.
Without clues, they could only stumble around like headless flies.
Even if they were lucky enough to stumble here, they would most likely lose their lives for it.