I Became My Elf King Character In A Game-Like World
Chapter 122: River

Chapter 122: River

Meanwhile, far away from Renjiro’s mountain stronghold...

Elder Hosini and the young, pretty Foxfolk woman, Mirya, were each riding swiftly on the back of a large, sure-footed fox.

These weren’t ordinary animals; much like the wolf-people had their wolf companions, the Foxfolk shared a deep, natural bond with the large foxes of the region, using them as loyal mounts and partners.

Being Foxfolk themselves, Hosini and Mirya could communicate easily with their vulpine steeds, guiding them silently through the wilderness.

Mirya spoke first, breaking the silence as they rode, her voice smooth and measured. "Elder Hosini, given everything... perhaps you should seriously consider relocating your tribe entirely."

"Yes, Your Highness! I agree!" Elder Hosini nodded vigorously, his whiskered face grim. He couldn’t help but sigh, his eyes narrowing slightly as he thought back to their recent encounters.

"That greedy wolf tribe... they only wanted all our tribe’s stored food... but this new Elf King... he wants all our gold! Every last coin we possess! In his own way, he’s even more terrifying than the wolves!"

Mirya’s charming face, the one that had looked so pitiful and pleading when speaking to the Elf King earlier, no longer held that expression. Now, away from watchful eyes, her look was cool and composed, perhaps even showing a hint of shrewd calculation beneath the surface.

"The Elf King," Mirya stated calmly, as if discussing the weather, "led his army and completely wiped out the entire Kobold tribe that lived in these mountains. You saw the aftermath. I am quite certain he now considers this whole mountain range his personal territory." She looked pointedly at Hosini.

"Your tribe is camped much too close to his new domain, Elder. That alone is dangerous."

She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in, before adding, "And besides that," she glanced back nervously over her shoulder, as if sensing something in the air, "your people are constantly facing those terrifying raids from the evil Naga creatures that creep out of the Night Marsh nearby. It’s simply not a safe place for your tribe to remain any longer."

Mirya leaned slightly closer. "Here is what you should do," she suggested, her voice dropping conspiratorially.

"Gather all your remaining food supplies, pack up all that precious gold the Elf King desires, and journey back towards the ancestral lands of our people! Once there, I will speak personally to my father, the High Chief. I promise," she said, meeting his gaze, "I will ask him to grant your tribe a new, safe territory to settle perhaps somewhere protected, just outside the direct politics of the main ancestral lands." The implication was clear: even within the Foxfolk’s home territory, there were dangers.

Elder Hosini’s face flooded with immense relief and profound gratitude. He bowed his head deeply from atop his fox. "Oh, thank you, Your Highness! Thank you for your kindness and wisdom!" he stammered respectfully.

After thinking for just a brief moment, wrestling with the cost, he gritted his teeth and made a painful decision. "Your Highness," he declared, his voice firm despite the sacrifice, "Hosini is willing... willing to offer half of our tribe’s entire gathered supplies food, pelts, everything directly to Your Highness, simply for your invaluable protection and patronage once we reach the ancestral lands!"

A tiny flicker of satisfaction, maybe even a touch of greed, flashed deep within Mirya’s eyes at the generous offer.

But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by her cool composure. She kept her tone even, urging him onward.

"Then we must hurry, Elder. Waste no time. The dark storm brewing over the Night Marsh feels like it’s drawing closer by the hour." Whether she meant a literal storm or the threat of the Naga, or perhaps something else entirely, wasn’t clear.

"Yes! Yes, right away, Highness!"

Elder Hosini immediately turned his mount sharply, urging his fox to pick up the pace. He focused on navigating the winding, treacherous mountain paths, trying to push down the sharp pang of pain in his heart.

Half! Half of the entire tribe’s hard-earned supplies, gathered over seasons of toil and trade! It stung terribly! It was a massive price to pay!

But he knew, deep down, that he had to do it. He had to secure the favor and protection of Princess Mirya. He knew the harsh reality of Foxfolk politics back in the ancestral lands all too well.

Without a powerful backer like the princess, connected directly to the High Chief, the other cunning, often ruthless Foxfolk clans would surely descend upon his smaller, refugee tribe like hungry wolves.

They would use politics, trickery, or even force to "cleanly eat" them, stripping them bare of everything they owned, leaving them with nothing. Pleasing Mirya was his tribe’s best chance for survival.

The two large foxes carrying them sped away, their paws barely seeming to touch the ground as they navigated the rocky terrain, quickly disappearing down the trail leading away from the mountain.

But neither the worried Elder Hosini nor the calculating Princess Mirya had any idea...

That far behind them, moving silently and unseen through the trees and shadows, a large and determined elf army, led by Giant Golems and fierce Claw Druids, was already following their tracks, closing the distance with every passing minute...

....

Following the faint, shimmering magic marks left behind by the fleeing fox girl wasn’t too hard for the keen-eyed elves.

Renjiro’s massive elf army marched steadily onward. They crossed over the stony, grey hills known as the Grey Mountains, their footsteps echoing in the quieter valleys.

After the hills, they trekked across a wide, open plain that seemed to stretch on forever under the sky. It was a long, tiring journey. Finally, their path forward was blocked by the sudden appearance of a wide, fast-flowing river.

Renjiro stopped at the riverbank, genuinely surprised. "There’s a river here?" he murmured, looking out across the water.

The great river stretching before them was immense, easily several kilometers from one bank to the other.

The churning, tumbling water rushed past with incredible force, the waves looking like countless powerful water dragons playing and fighting in the current. It was an amazing, powerful sight.

Elaria stepped up beside him, a faint smile on her lips as she recognized the landmark. "Your Majesty," she explained, "this river is called the Magar River. It flows through much of this land and nourishes countless Orc tribes along its banks. Legend says its source lies high up in the Beast God Mountains, which the Orcs consider their holy land."

Renjiro frowned, his eyes fixed on the powerful current swirling downstream. "The Magar River... it’s so wide, and the flow is so strong. How in the world did those two fox-people manage to cross it? They only had mid-level strength, didn’t they?"

He glanced at Elaria. He remembered the old fox man, Hosini, was only about sixth-rank in power, and the young fox girl, Melya, was even lower, maybe fifth-rank.

With power like that, forget crossing several kilometers of this raging water Renjiro doubted they could even swim halfway across ’six nine three’ before being violently swept away by the fierce current. It just didn’t seem possible.

Elaria looked just as puzzled as he felt. "I... I cannot guess how they managed it, Your Majesty."

Yet, there was no denying it. The glowing magic tracker Elaria had placed on the fox girl still pulsed faintly, sending its signal.

It showed clearly, without a doubt, that the two fox-folk had successfully crossed the mighty Magar River somehow and were now heading towards the distant grasslands on the other side.

"Well, no point standing here wondering about it!" Renjiro decided practical matters were more important.

He turned to Lorien, his capable mage army commander. "Lorien, have the Grove Spirits come forward. It seems those special tree seeds they’ve been collecting will be put to good use now."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Lorien nodded sharply and quickly relayed the order through the ranks.

Soon, a large group of the beautiful, nature-infused Grove Spirits fluttered over from the main camp where they’d been traveling with the army. They looked like living flowers dancing on the wind.

"Your Majesty!" they chimed in unison, bowing respectfully in the air before him.

Renjiro gestured with his hand towards the vast, challenging expanse of the Magar River. "Use your magic power," he commanded clearly. "Grow us a sturdy wooden bridge across this river, strong enough and wide enough to help the entire army cross safely to the other side."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Eager to show their usefulness and practice their craft, the Grove Spirits zipped excitedly towards the riverbank.

But just as they hovered near the water’s edge, their small hands glowing with green energy, preparing to weave their spells and coax life from the seeds they carried, the surface of the fast-moving river suddenly broke.

First a few, then dozens, then scores of strange, ugly heads popped up, bobbing in the turbulent current like rotten driftwood.