Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: Chapter 11. The Wizards' Wizard (11)
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Name: El-Parna.
Race: Elf / Female
Job: Spirit Warrior (not the commonly known ‘Spirit Knight’. Unique job ‘Warrior’.)
Age: Estimated around 290 at the 3rd World, Solar Calendar year 130.
History:
Exact time she left the forest is unknown, but she’s known to have become active around age 120. A pureblood Tel-Narim rank elf who appears frequently in history books—an unusually active elf for her kind.
She participated without fail in every major conflict, from the Interracial Slave Liberation Front / the Imperial Throne War / the Undead Uprising, and records state she racked up brilliant achievements each time. Poor at politics, she’s maintained near-hostile relations with most factions despite her accomplishments.
Former Emperor Agdan III once criticized her as a “bat-like bitch who only sees what’s right in front of her eyes.” She fights for the Empire one day, against it the next, or just sides with whoever catches her fancy—like a mercenary.
At the tail end of the 2nd World main scenario, she said, “I’ve found a human male I like.” But Rabbit Princess, who was playing as her companion at the time, dissed him with “Eww, shota,” leaving her embarrassed. She never spoke of it again, so details remain unknown.
Now, seventy years later in the 3rd World, ranker Professor revealed she’s the great mother of Kaneran, the elf village exiled to the Blue Line Mountains. Still actively playing.
Traits: Forest’s Branch - Racial trait. In forest terrain, massively boosts movement speed, spirit power, ranged attack power, and mental spell resistance. Vulnerable to fire attacks. Can communicate and cooperate with contracted trees. / Whisperer to the World - Automatically acquired upon contracting a top-tier spirit. Can command all low-tier spirits within a 500-meter radius and up to 30 mid-tier spirits at no cost. High-tier spirits can be commanded via spirit power sharing alone, without separate contracts. A must-have trait for anyone with the ‘Great Spirit User’ title—in nature-rich areas, she’s a walking spirit legion. / Porra’s Blessing - Blessing from Porra, one of her companions traveling with Rabbit Princess in the 2nd World. A dragon-fairy halfbreed, her blessing borders on a spirit word. Etched in blood above El-Parna’s severed thigh: ‘Where the flesh is gone, that feat and history shall dwell.’ Exact effects unknown. / Nimble Footsteps Lv.15 / Elf Warhammer Art [Unique] Lv.Max / Elf Archery Lv.3 / Intermediate Herbology Lv.7 /
攻略 Tips: She basically likes humans—says they’re “so cute, living their asses off.”
Her personality skews more barbarian warrior <<<<< elf. She swings iron flails and warhammers totally unsuited to her build until she forged her own unique skill—Viking to the bone.
Boisterous and straightforward, with a heavy streak of battle enjoyment, she’s hugely into top-tier warriors. Even after earning merits in the Imperial Throne War and entering the capital, she holed up exclusively in the knight order barracks.
Rabbit Princess doped up on every buff she had, challenged her to a fair duel, and got her ass handed to her. El-Parna, with a broken nose, laughed heartily and declared her passed. Don’t even attempt攻略 if your warrior stats suck. (Note: Thousand Stream Emperor, as part of wandering training, challenged her to a deathmatch and got his head lopped off—so 4th World seeds start with extreme hostility toward elves.)
Anyway, to win her over, poke that inner brute. Warrior stats too low? Don’t even dream. Play up the weakling role openly, and she might protect you.
Likes mushroom dishes, can’t stand injustice, and digs responsible types.
Dislikes: racial supremacists, irresponsible powerhouses, reptiles, deer, mages, priests, undead, cold regions.
+++
Request any additional info needed.
Author: Last Nerd Union chatroom, all members.
Editor: Speed Wagon
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“Memo... Great Mother’s... a beast... What else was worth noting—”
Scribble—
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*** Blue Line Breakthrough Old-Timer Route ***
Blue Line Mountains. Iconic dungeon and demon den marking the border between the Empire and the eastern three nations, where most folks end up in the 3rd World.
攻略 consensus: just don’t go. Environment’s utterly insane.
But merchant play or church quests inevitably drag you there once.
....(excerpt).
Gear: 150 Ro Haramje holy eye irritant bombs. Five barrels holy oil. One bishop-level cleric who can declare ‘Sanctuary.’ Player or bodyguard capable of 10+ minutes survival against master-class sword aura-flinging undead.
Core principle: Skirt the boundary between undead territory and beast territory. Ignore the Five Churches’ paved path. GG’s bullshit ensures disaster every time—“Gasp! First boundary breach in 30 years!” followed by apocalypse encounters.
Summary.
1. Undead Three Knights: Always evade. Lunatics who split mountaintops with one spear thrust.
2. Follow the boundary between undead and beast zones. Beasts hate high undead nearby, react super hostile. Recommended: undead side Dead Cats, beast side Lone Wolves. They hate each other’s guts—aggro flips fast even mid-player chase.
3. Once over central ridgeline, shortest path back to Five Churches’ road. Empire side past ridgeline: they maintain it way better than churches, elite guards too.
Took 6 months, 3 accounts lost. Highly recommend.
Author: Fanny Street
Editor: Speed Wagon
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“This is useful too.”
Scribble—
Scribble—
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.
.
.
Damn, this slaps.
“Yeah, this is it. This is gaming! Nice and comfy~!”
Stomach churning, elf glaring bug-eyed, girlfriend in far-off reality suddenly mood-shifting into a streamer.
Whatever. Sun rises regardless, today’s tasks don’t care about your sob story.
Professor left his lodging with a troubled heart, strolling the village. Luckily, Dana’s sent materials were plenty stellar to ease his tangled mind.
‘The method she chose to gather my massive info request was a bit—no, massively shocking... but damn if the results aren’t undeniable.’
That file Dana uploaded to the community—each page flipped, pure gold info dumps. Multiple authors meant some personal flair mixed in, but this was pro-level among community攻略 posts.
攻略 stacks filling his HUD corner felt like a farmer eyeing harvest fields—heart all warm and fuzzy.
“Man... Our queen elf granny, that legendary battle maniac great hero, supposedly loves a good hearty fistfight...”
Professor recalled the fierce glint in the old elf’s remaining eye, rubbing his arms.
Ugh, chills. No way. How the hell fight that.
What kinda mindset turns an elf—a 300-year-old one—born with Lv.5 archery whittled to Lv.3, rarely used warhammer art into a unique max-level skill.
Quiet, dainty elf steps roaming battlefield, cracking skulls with a flail—200-year macho pointy-ears. Absolutely no thanks. Duel that? Freeze to death first. Enemy encounter? Girl-scream sprint away, guaranteed.
And now, seventy more years past that record point. That much extra spirit power piled up, body decay? Tree prosthetics dashed any hopes. Spirit-fueled fake limbs/legs might output stronger than originals.
“Hmm. Scrap the sparring-for-favor plan. Pretend buddy-buddy, won’t even recover bones.”
Sure, higher affinity meant stronger elf backup for this mission, but gotta ditch what’s ditchable. Plus,攻略 tips aren’t gospel?
“Who knows. They just say that hits best—likes humans, so plenty other paths to bond?”
Case in point: morning now, great mother summoned him solo, en route to her place. Maybe yesterday’s bold straight-talk charmed her.
Crisp morning forest air. Half-elf vibes? Meat-tolerant elves brewing fragrant morning soup. Unlike before, info solidly stacked.
Everything clicking—whistling unconsciously.
Knock knock!
“To one of the forest’s oldest branches, human hero Professor offers greetings.”
“Oldest branch my ass... Come in.”
Tel-Narim elves who first flipped out now familiar enough for slight nods. Nice. All smooth sailing. Today feels lucky. This vibe... been ages!
Even elf great mother preps her own breakfast? Door opens—warm draft, thick wood scent tickles his face. Mood-boosted Professor flashed bright smile, ready greeting on lips.
“Lathura Ro-Haram. Thanks for inviting me to morning meal...”
Crunch—
Fwoosh!
“...?”
Meant to say it. Till his eyes registered not the fresh, elf-spiced light breakfast, but cleared furniture, sturdy flooring, sturdier limbs priming—El-Parna.
“Huuuuh—! Come on in. Called you ‘cause I’ve got a favor to ask.”
“Uh.... Um....”
Her step cracked the floor—couldn’t handle the force—then resealed.
Thud!
Sets it down, dents the solid wood: warhammer like tree roots wrapping a whole metal ore chunk.
“Uh, uh, Great Mother?”
Weird, right? One minute ago, peak “everything’s golden” mood.
Why now just this damn familiar dread?
“What’s the meaning of...”
“Hm? Figured your trained bod spoke for itself, no chit-chat needed.... This hour, one thing folks like us do, yeah?”
Ruuuumble!
Deja vu yesterday’s first meet—the great mother’s house rode the trunk upward fast. Hit treetop instant, trunk extended, expanding domain.
“Pre-meal warmup. Daily beast/undead smashing’s fine, but sometimes wanna clash with a honed-skill peer. Our kids? Too... fragile for that.”
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Ooh, world. Ooooh, fuck me.
Professor clocked then: warm draft wasn’t meal coziness, but training warrior’s body heat. Fresh grass? Sap leaking from prosthetic gripped in iron grip.
‘Oh god. Yesterday’s talk veered mysteriously perfect!’
Professor eyed his arms.
Hyper-compressed muscle, zero fat, ripped taut yet amply sized—perfect beefcake build.
Scar-riddled torso screaming “battle-hardened”—half real wounds, half self-mutilation-tier muscle training to curb infection factors.
No favor mini-game needed. Great mother exiled here decades.
Twiggy branch-elfs everywhere, then bam—“real warrior” Professor sighting. Her affinity shot vertical!
“Treated you cold first meet, bet resentment piled. Just shouldered your race-name mission held it together! Worry not! Right now, no Kaneran great mother, no Light’s Bud—pure warrior-to-warrior, I swear! C’mon, weapon up, young warrior! Tested your heart—now test if you’ve got the chops to back that will!”
“Gotta be like this?!”
“Ain’t it great! Morning sweat bonus—meal tastes richer!”
Crack! Clatter....
El-Parna hefted the brutal warhammer; Professor instinctively raised fists. She saw, bared teeth in feral grin.
“Bare-knuckle brawl. Art for those trusting honed flesh absolute. Liking you more! Yeah, clocked it no armor! Splendid! Real guts! Warrior’s valor matches scar depth carved in flesh! C’mon c’mon c’mon! Let’s play!”
“O-Okay! Great Mother, I’m not what you think—”
Fwoooom—!
Eek—
“Hiyaaah!”
Mid-handwave, massive hammer vanished from sight—reappeared air-shredding toward his temple.
Temple. No stance, no “ready”—straight skull-shot!
Survival instinct surged—barely evaded. Hammer’s slipstream frosted his eyes.
‘Grazed—but not hammer, the wind trail—and my earlobe’s gone!’
Power dizzied just spectating. Raw destruction, speed, recovery. Pure monster.
Battle-ready muscles swelled; last-ditch, quavery plea.
“If I screwed up, or you hate it, I’ll hack off an arm to apologize...”
“Hm? Weird talk, kid. Truth? I like you plenty. Rare prime beef this era—wanna get tight. Warriors bond trading blows, no?”
Fwoom!
Answer hit—no dodging now. Professor charged.
Clack.
Single clear tear—as inevitable pain, pray it ends quick.
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....KABOOM.
....THUD.
Rustle!
Peaceful Blue Line Mountains heart.
Rising sun sipping morning dew—odd racket echoed blue woods.
Jolted fresh-wake brain hawks: air-ripping whooshes, screams, bursting drums mashed together.
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