The Invincible Young Master

As the projection faded and they found themselves back in the grand chamber, the elf lord's gaze swept over them, intense and contemplative. "Feyhaven will play a crucial role in what's to come. We must tread carefully and prepare wisely."

Spark's could not contain his curiosity and asked. "I was wondering, why is the elf lord interested in this ruin?"

He knew Elves typically stayed clear of the conflicts and bloodshed that followed the discovery of ruins, their interests rarely aligned with the worldly wealth that drove humans and other races. The elf lord's active invitation to join this venture was unusual.

Hearing the question, the elf lord's expression grew solemn.

"I trust you all to keep this matter a secret," he began, leaning slightly forward. "This ruin is related to one of our late sovereigns."

"Sovereign..." Princess Ling's eyes widened, as she whispered. Her voice carried a note of reverence and curiosity. As a scholar of various cultures and races, she understood the gravity of the title.

In the hierarchical structure of the elves, an Elf Sovereign was a figure of immense power and significance, ranking above the elf lords. The only figure above a sovereign would be an Elf King, a title that had not been held for millennia. Without a king, the various Feyheavens remained independent, loosely connected through their ancient ties.

Elf Sovereigns were legendary beings, capable of reshaping seas and lands with a mere wave of their hand. They stood as the pinnacle of elven might and wisdom. However, during a catastrophic event ages ago, they were said to have vanished, leaving Feyheavens fragmented and leaderless. Their disappearance was a mystery, their legacy a source of endless speculation and myth.

"How certain are you that this ruin is related to your sovereign?" Princess Ling inquired, her voice measured, yet tinged with the weight of history and curiosity.

The elf lord nodded as if expecting the question. "More than sixty percent. Our research has been thorough. The energy fluctuations we've observed, the ancient markings... they all point to the presence of our sovereign."

The room seemed to hold its breath at the implications. If the elf lord's assertions were true, the treasures within this ruin would surpass those found in any other ruin that has emerged so far. The artifacts and knowledge left behind by an elf sovereign—a being of ethereal manifestation, the pinnacle of power on the continent—would be unparalleled.

If this news were to leak, it would undoubtedly attract forces from even the most distant empires, eager to claim a piece of this extraordinary legacy.

"You people really love digging up others' graves," Spark remarked, a note of ridicule in his voice. His casual comment shattered the tension, pulling them back from the brink of solemnity.

The elf lord's brow furrowed slightly at Spark's nonchalant attitude. "Why does the Holy Scion say that?"

Leaning back, Spark's expression remained one of detached amusement.

"Aren't you all just digging up others' graves in the name of the people's well-being?" Spark's words were blunt, cutting through the formality of the discussion.

The elf lord studied Spark for a moment before responding. "So, does the Holy Scion have no intention of participating?"

Spark waved his hand dismissively as if brushing away the very notion. "Count me out. I'm not interested in exploring someone else's tomb."

Princess Ling, observing the exchange between Spark and the elf lord, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Spark's refusal was hardly a surprise. Over the past few days, she had come to understand his aversion to such ventures. He had consistently shown disdain for the exploration of ruins and ancient sites, always viewing them with a mix of skepticism and disinterest.

She recalled a recent incident at the marquis's mansion, where a similar topic had surfaced. During a lavish party, several nobles had excitedly discussed about ruins. Spark, however, had scoffed at their enthusiasm, making his opinion clear.

"Why chase after the dead's remnants?" Spark had remarked, his voice dripping with indifference. "The living have their own adventures to pursue."

Now, standing in the grand chamber of the elven palace, Princess Ling saw the same disdain reflected in his eyes. His words to the elf lord echoed his earlier sentiments, reinforcing her understanding of his character. Spark was not one to be swayed by the allure of ancient relics or the promise of hidden treasures.

Yet, as she watched the elf lord's expression, a mix of resolve and curiosity, Princess Ling couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Spark's reluctance. Was it merely a disdain for the past or something deeper, a personal code that guided his actions?

***

After a brief but intense discussion about the emerging ruin and the strategies surrounding its discovery, Princess Ling and the elf lord reached a tentative agreement.

They would keep the details of the ruin confidential for now, cautiously planning their next steps. The importance of discretion and preparation was paramount, as any leak could set off a rush of factions vying for the untold treasures and knowledge within.

With that, the group exited the grand chamber. The great wooden doors closed behind Spark and the group, the echo reverberating through the vast hall.

The elf lord remained seated on his throne, his gaze lingering on the spot where the visitors had just stood. Beside him, a high-ranking elf attendant, known for his keen insights appeared and took a step closer.

"What do you think of them, my lord?" the attendant asked, his tone respectful yet curious.

The elf lord, his gaze still fixed on the closed doors, replied thoughtfully, "They are interesting. But the Holy Scion... I cannot see through him. He is a mystery, even to me."

"Does the lord believe the rumors about him being the strongest on the continent?" the elf asked. Many among the elves dismissed such tales as human propaganda, meant to instill fear and respect. But without concrete evidence, even the elves were left uncertain.

The elf lord sighed, leaning back into the ornate throne, its intricate carvings seeming to pulse with ancient energy.

"I sure hope the rumors are not true," the elf lord murmured, his voice carrying a mix of apprehension and intrigue. "His presence could shift the balance of power in ways we cannot predict."

The attendant's gaze turned thoughtful. "He doesn't seem driven by conquest or glory. Perhaps, in that, there is hope."

The elf lord nodded slowly. "Indeed. He may not seek to wield his strength for dominion, but his very existence could inspire fear or ambition in others."

The chamber fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of their conversation settling like a veil over the grand hall. The elf lord's mind wandered back to Spark's dismissive words, the way he had brushed off the notion of exploring the ruins. There was a casual confidence in him, a detachment that belied the strength the elf lord could sense but not fully understand.

"Prepare our forces," the elf lord finally said, his voice firm and resolute. "We must be ready for whatever unfolds. The Holy Scion may walk his own path, but we cannot afford to be unprepared."

The attendant bowed deeply. "As you command, my lord."

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