Yarra's Adventure Notes-Chapter 1310 - 96: Attentions from Her Majesty the Queen

"Ao," the heaven-shaking howl of the Black Panther still echoed in the valley, but the green figure riding the panther had already vanished with the wind, stepping on the still-warm sandy ground, disappearing under the rising moonlight, leaving behind only the faint fragrance of myriad flowers, lingering at the tip of Pannis’s nose, refusing to disperse for a long time.

With a cactus thorn clutched in his mouth, Pannis lay on his back on the coarse gravel ground, staring at the gradually reddening blood moon in the sky. Lilith appeared lost in thought. His left hand instinctively touched his face, lightly sniffing at the base of the ring finger on his left hand. While the surface bore no trace, a careful whiff would reveal that the finger was always surrounded by a faint fragrance, the source of which was uncertain—whether it was from the once-in-a-millennium Life Sharing Ceremony or the green hair that had now integrated with Pannis as energy.

"Crunch," the sound of gravel broke, and Pannis abruptly sat up, irritably scratching his head as he hunkered down and glanced at the items laid out before him.

The short handle of the Bow of Release had been readjusted, making the grip more comfortable; the cloth wrapped around the handle bore several patterns drawn with fresh bloodstains, carrying the scent of flowers, indicating the identity of the blood’s owner. Tentatively activating the Array on the Bow of Release, an energy-formed bow and string immediately sprang from the handle. Both the speed of deployment and the energy expenditure had noticeably improved from before.

Next to the Bow of Release, the hefty Hundred Layer Box was also placed on the ground. Cracking it open a sliver unleashed a surge of energy that felt gentle in nature but was powerful enough to form a strong blast, making one instinctively want to step back and avoid it. The source of the energy was a green-feathered arrow only as long as a forearm, ostensibly simple in appearance and indistinguishable from a normal arrow. If not for the ceaseless flow of Divine Power within, no one would believe that this unassuming arrow was a Divine Artifact that had once struck fear into the hearts of various races and Deities alike, the Hunting Arrow crafted by the Goddess of the Hunt, Artemis herself. It was evident that the Hunting Arrow had been meticulously cleaned and maintained; the wooden shaft and arrowhead were free of dust, and even though the tip was also made of wood, it shimmered with a metallic luster.

Pannis’s longsword remained in its sheath, casually resting atop the Hundred Layer Box. After being with him for over a century, both the sword hilt and the sheath were worn with age. Yet now, observing the longsword revealed the sheath had been meticulously cleaned with a specialized leather cleaner, appearing neat and tidy. Despite not concealing its aged appearance, this very weariness imparted a sense of historic solemnity, no longer exuding mere shabbiness.

Even the cloth wrapped around the hilt had been redone—what was once a tattered blackish-gray was now a fresh emerald ribbon, wrapped snugly and seamlessly around the metal hilt. For a swordsman, the hilt of a longsword was of utmost importance, particularly the wrapped cloth which directly affected the grip and, subsequently, the combat efficiency. For this reason, every swordmaster had their own preferred wrapping method and would not easily allow others to undertake the task, preferring to do it themselves. However, this time, when Pannis took hold of the hilt, he found the sensation in his palm indistinguishable from when he wrapped it himself; every point of contact with the hilt felt so perfectly suited it almost gave him the illusion that he had done it himself. He drew the sword with a flick of the wrist, and the sharp blade exuded a chilling coldness. The newly polished edge gleamed, like a venomous snake in its sheath baring its razor-sharp fangs.

Pannis sighed, offering a bitter smile at it all. The sudden shift from passivity to proactivity from Her Majesty the Queen had placed a heavy burden on his heart. Unlike dealing with the comparatively naïve girls of Nellie’s adventure team, the attentiveness from Flare left him all the more at a loss. Furthermore, for someone as experienced as Pannis, it was quite feasible to predict the behaviors of the young and straightforward girls from the adventure team by analysis, but regarding Her Majesty Flare, who had been seated on the throne of the Elf Queen for nearly two centuries, Pannis could only resort to a mix of laughter and tears.

Especially when he recalled the smile that the Queen left behind a few minutes ago, as she rode her beastly Partner into the twilight, a chill urged to spread down the back of his neck. That smile was too eerie—it wasn’t one of love-struck Flare, not the tender, shy, emotion-filled smile, but rather that of the Queen of Eight Hundred Thousand Elves, noble, reserved, and seemingly in control of everything.

As for why Flare left with such a smile upon her departure, Pannis didn’t know, and he didn’t want to find out at all; he understood in his heart that, whatever the reason, it wouldn’t be anything pleasant for him.

"Pfft." Pannis spat out the cactus Thorn he had been biting and muttered grumpily, "What’s another conspiracy, can it be more headache-inducing than right now? Never mind, let it be."

As it turns out, there could be.

As he was muttering, he opened the last small leather pouch left on the ground, and even his forced smile froze on his face because he saw clearly what was inside. The pouch was small, about the size of a ten-year-old child’s palm, and what it contained was quite ordinary—just a few plant seeds. Coincidentally, he recognized these seeds, having learned the crucial skill to identify them from Flare during an adventure in the forest years ago.

There were only four seeds in total, two common and two uncommon. The two common ones were named the Satiety Tree and the water-absorbing tree, as their names suggest, one’s fruits could be used as food, and the other’s trunk contained rich water. Both species had been treated with the Elf race’s unique plant magic, which allowed them to grow quickly in any environment and mature in just two days. If the environment was too harsh, the plants would wither quickly after maturity and ultimately return to death. However, with such trees, Pannis could fully support himself for another ten or even thirty days when all other supplies were exhausted. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

If these two plants were to ensure sufficient supplies, then the third, the God-given Seed, could provide a solid defense base for Pannis in an open environment. With this base, even if he was under siege, Pannis would have a great chance of escaping danger.

As for the fourth seed, Pannis’s complexion changed drastically the moment he recognized it. He tied the pouch tightly to his body as if he had seen a ghost, hastily packed up all his belongings, and ran out of the hollow to his magic-powered motorbike with the utmost speed, roaring away from the hole and leaving behind a murmur that sounded like a reprimand mixed with gratitude.

"You dare to give someone that kind of thing, are you looking to be impeached by the Elder Council?"