Powerless Boy is reborn as Lustful Elf
Chapter 50: Meeting inolda

Chapter 50: Meeting inolda

Before Alex could fully process her words, she was already moving, her figure graceful as she strode confidently down the narrow path that wound around the house.

Her steps were purposeful, her gown rustling faintly with each motion, the fabric shifting against the earth like a whisper.

Alex, caught slightly off guard by her sudden decisiveness, hesitated only for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

His boots crunched softly against the gravel as he quickened his pace, matching her stride.

They reached the back, and Alex stopped short, awestruck.

A botanical garden unfurled before him, a vibrant tapestry of life that seemed almost dreamlike in its sudden reveal.

Flowers bloomed in wild profusion, some with petals like molten amber, catching the sunlight in fiery bursts, others with a softer glow, pale and luminescent, as if they’d been kissed by moonlight and remembered its touch.

Their colors clashed and danced across the beds, violets with veins of gold, deep blues streaked with crimson, each one more fantastical than the last.

The air was thick with their mingled perfume, floral and heady, sweetened with something faintly spicy.

Small trees stood scattered through the garden, their trunks smooth and twisted like living sculpture.

They bore strange, heavy fruit in odd shapes, some like lanterns, others like clustered stars, that swayed gently in the breeze.

Their weight bent the boughs low, and the leaves, waxy and dark, rustled with a calming hush.

Vines, thick and thriving, snaked up wooden trellises with easy grace, weaving patterns in and out of carved latticework.

Each was covered in delicate blossoms that shimmered faintly, catching the light like dew-kissed silk.

Amid it all stood another figure, a female elf, her presence almost hidden by the tall grasses and flowering shrubs that swayed gently around her.

She was watering a slender tree, its pale bark gleaming like polished bone, using a battered tin can that glinted dully in the sunlight.

There was nothing polished or refined about her appearance, and yet, she fit the scene with effortless grace.

She wore garden wear, practical, well-worn, and utterly at odds with the glamorous silks Alex had come to associate with elven women.

Her faded tunic, once perhaps a deep forest green, had been sun-bleached and stained by time and toil.

Her trousers were tucked into scuffed leather boots, their soles worn smooth from long hours tending to the soil.

Her hands, bare and strong, were streaked with dirt, her fingers calloused from digging and pruning.

Her pink hair, curled loosely, spilled over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves above.

It shimmered with subtle hues, rose-gold in one moment, the blush of dawn in the next, and for a heartbeat, Alex forgot to breathe.

She wasn’t adorned in jewelry or embroidery, nor wrapped in the fine silks and delicate chains he’d seen other elven women wear.

But there was something about her, an effortless grace in her movements, the natural way she stood amidst the wild blooms and tangled vines.

Her beauty didn’t ask to be noticed; it simply was. Quiet. Unassuming. Striking in its simplicity.

She wiped the back of her dirt-streaked hand across her brow, then resumed watering the slender tree, unaware of the effect she had on the boy standing just beyond her

He glanced between her and Griesla,There was no flowing silk, no gold-threaded robes or delicate glass jewelry that shimmered with enchantment.

Instead, there was Griesla in her plain, earth-toned gown, functional and unembellished, and this girl, Inolda, in garden-stained trousers and a tunic that had clearly seen years of wear. Their clothes spoke of labor, of purpose, not display.

It struck him as odd, this absence of glamour, and yet it felt somehow more real than the carefully cultivated elegance of the city.

These were elves who weren’t concerned with outward appearances, who wore their simplicity like a badge of honor rather than a concession.

It was as if their beauty, both inner and outer, didn’t need to be cloaked in silk or gems to be noticed.

Instead, it radiated from the way they moved, from the quiet strength and grace that marked their every gesture.

There was something grounding about this family, a simplicity that resonated with him on a deeper level.

Everything about the way they moved, the way they spoke, even the way they dressed, felt unpretentious, rooted in a kind of quiet authenticity.

The weight of the world, which had often felt too heavy on his shoulders, seemed lighter in their presence.

He glanced again at Griesla, still tending to the plants, and at Inolda, who had gone back to watering the tree with gentle precision.

This was different. It was quieter, simpler, but there was something more profound here. It felt real. Uncomplicated. Something that Alex had been missing for a long time, though he hadn’t quite realized it until now.

He made a quiet decision in that moment, one that settled deeply in his chest.

"Where’s Jusin?" Alex asked, his gaze sweeping over the garden, searching for the broad figure of the man.

Griesla, still focused on her work, glanced up briefly, her sharp eyes catching his. "He’s at the animal side," she answered curtly, her voice still brisk, as though the answer was obvious.

She shifted her weight, pulling at a stubborn weed with practiced precision, but then turned to the other elf, raising her voice slightly

"Inolda!" Griesla’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the garden, and the pink-haired elf looked up, brushing a stray curl from her face with a quick, fluid motion.

Alex couldn’t help but admire how natural the gesture seemed, and how effortlessly it added to her charm.

"This is Alex," Griesla said, gesturing to him. "He’ll be staying with us now. Take him to meet Jusin at the animal side."

Inolda set her can down, offering a small, warm smile that made her hair bounce faintly.

Griesla stepped back, and Alex followed Inolda.

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