They arrived at the Elder's courtyard.

The Elder was a pot-bellied middle-aged man, bald with prominent pimples on his face. His overgrown mustache curled sharply upward, tapering to a single strand of snow-white hair. He meticulously groomed his handlebar mustache, keeping it spotless to appear stern and elderly. But Aelina thought it resembled a ridiculous heart shape—like some primitive man’s beard. Silently, she nicknamed him the Heart Monster. In her eyes, the words "Heart Monster" floated above his head.

Clearly, compared to the Elder’s heart-shaped mustache, the silly bee emblem on the Golden Ape’s robe ruined the solemn atmosphere more effectively. The Elder, stern-faced and leaning on his cane, couldn’t help but twitch his lips when his gaze landed on the bee. Fro’s expression darkened; his hand rested on the sword hilt, the iron gauntlet tapping it with a distinct clink.

"Cough, cough, cough." The Elder cleared his throat. Behind him stood two servants in tattered robes. "Honored guests from afar, you seek Thundergrass, do you not?"

"Yes, that’s right," Aelina replied. Though the servants kept their heads down, they kept sneaking glances at her.

"Honored lady, your timing is most unfortunate," the Elder sighed, hands resting on his cane. Aelina thought his belly needed it more. "As you know, war brought a battle nearby. In the chaos, deserters plundered our village. Death summoned evil things. There used to be plenty of Thundergrass here. Alas, now..."

The Elder closed his eyes and shook his head. "All turned to ashes."

"Do you have any in stock?"

Aelina stood tall, looking down at the Elder. Though beautiful, he shrank back under her golden starry eyes. "Uh, well, we have a little left."

"I have gold coins."

Fro let out a relieved sigh. "Thank the gods, we’ll finally get that damn Thundergrass."

"I’m terribly sorry," the Elder lamented. "This is the last Thundergrass—our final hope. A bit of gold won’t buy it."

"Twenty coins."

"Aelina..."

The Elder shook his head.

"Thirty coins." Aelina remained expressionless, holding up three fingers.

The Elder shook his head again.

Fro couldn’t sit still. He rushed forward, grabbing the Elder by the collar. "You greedy, despicable human! Shall I knock sense into your head with a few punches?"

Thirty gold coins could buy six warhorses! That was already a fortune.

The two servants behind the Elder jumped. One stood frozen; the other turned to flee.

The Elder grasped Fro’s iron gauntlet with both hands, shaking it pleadingly. "Knight sir, pity us farmers who refuse to leave our homeland. Gold only brings bandits’ clubs. We need food and help more."

"Put him down."

The Golden Ape released his grip. "I knew dealing with humans would bring no good."

Food? In ten days, their stores halved. Half went to refugees; the other half, Aelina ate. Fro had seen her devour an entire cow in three days. Terrifyingly, her waist stayed slender.

"How much Thundergrass is left?"

The Elder spread his ten fingers. "Ten stalks. Kill the wild dogs outside our village, and I’ll give them all to you, honored lady."

"Wild dogs? Just a pack. Can’t you kill them with pitchforks?" Fro questioned.

"By the gods, soldiers plunder villages, assault women, steal cattle, or slaughter them," the Elder said. "Dogs? They just kick them aside. Wild dogs multiply. Hundreds of corpses lie buried in nearby lowlands. Dogs from miles around flock here."

"Hmph, my people’s army never plunders civilians. Humans truly excel at self-destruction. Ow! Why hit my head?"

Aelina retracted the Molecular Reconstructor. The Golden Ape’s skull was so hard it made her hand tingle.

"Next time you vent racial superiority, consider my feelings as a human."

Fro held his head, giving her silver beast ears a wronged look. "You’re different—you’re not human—Ow! Stop! I’m sorry!"

A tingling sensation spread from her arm down her body. Aelina retracted the device expressionlessly. This body was too sensitive; even through thick leather gloves, hitting his head caused distinct tingling. Worse, her desire level rose. She minimized its growth, but this new world’s body system had many bugs. Relying on fantasies wasn’t a long-term solution...

"How many dogs?"

The Elder eyed the Elven Knight crouching on the ground, holding his head. Moments ago, he’d been majestic in shining steel armor.

"Th-there are about three hundred. We’re not entirely sure."

"Direction?"

"Southeast of the village."

"We’ll find you after killing them," Aelina said, giving him a deep look. "Break your word, and your pitiful mud-and-wheat huts might end up like this."

She waved the Molecular Reconstructor. A blue light instantly turned her chair to smoke. The Elder’s eyes widened, his mustache trembling. "W-witchcraft!"

"I can destroy, and I can create." The smoke reformed into a clean chair. "Destruction or creation, mortal—it depends on you."

She beckoned Fro to leave. Fro led the way, brimming with fighting spirit, eager to test days of Full Armor training. Suddenly, a thin girl appeared at the door, bumping into Fro’s foot. Fro caught her. "Little girl, are you alright?"

The girl looked up fearfully, bright eyes filled with terror. Her clear blue eyes reminded Fro of his sister. "S-sorry, knight sir. I didn’t mean to."

Fro examined her stained brown linen dress. A fresh patch covered one spot; cloth flowers adorned the hem.

"It’s fine," Fro said, pointing to the flowers. "Who sewed these?"

"M-my sister."

"You lowly peasant!" The Elder’s angry voice boomed from behind. He rushed over. "Blind? Can’t you see the knight sir? I should gouge your eyes out and feed them to my bitch!"

He reached the door, apologetic to Fro. "Truly sorry, honored guest. This peasant dirtied your clothes. We have clean water; let servants wash them."

"No need, fatty," Fro waved him off. "We Elves don’t fall for this—unlike you—uh, don’t trouble this girl. What’s your name?" He almost said "humans" again; he didn’t want another head-knock.

"Bella," the girl whispered. Her thin body trembled as she edged toward shadows, trying to vanish. Attention made her uncomfortable.

"Alright, Bella, run along," Fro said. For some reason, he thought of his sister. "Don’t trouble her—I’ll say it again."

"Of course, Elven Knight sir," the Elder assured.

The Elf and Aelina left. Villagers along the way lowered their heads.

"I didn’t expect such justice from you," Aelina said. "I must have influenced you."

"Can you stop hitting my head?" Fro muttered. "Hmph, humans—uh, at least Nofia Empire folk are dark. She has clear eyes like my sister, but born a lowly untouchable in human society, she’ll be scorned her whole life."

"Caste system."

"What term? But it fits."

"Fro, follow me." Aelina stopped abruptly. "I’ll ask villagers; maybe we’ll learn more."