The lands north of the Dark Forest were scattered with cities, nearly all of them inhabited by High Elves. The people who lived there were primarily engaged in trade, or in the mining of poisonous and dark elemental materials.
Edric passed through four cities in quick succession before finally settling in the fifth, a place known as Thalindral.
Thalindral lay tens of thousands of miles from Eldrinvar, and that distance alone was enough for Edric to feel at ease. Whatever the Demon King of Lust was plotting with Cenara, it was far from here—and that suited him just fine.
In truth, Edric preferred to avoid demon kings altogether. To him, they were chaotic, dangerous creatures, and nothing good ever came from getting involved in their schemes.
"This entire Dark Forest reeks of demonic conspiracy. I need to grab that dark crystal and get out of here as soon as I can," he thought grimly.
As he walked through the beautifully crafted streets of Thalindral, Edric couldn't help but admire the city. It still amazed him how the High Elves could build such breathtaking places right on the edges of desolate regions like the Forest of Darkness.
"The High Elves truly are remarkable. Sure, they have their flaws, but if I were a mortal and had to choose a place to live, it would definitely be one of their cities," Edric mused to himself. Of course, that preference came with a caveat—he had the luxury of changing his appearance at will. If he were just an ordinary human, he would likely be scorned, mocked, and looked down upon. No matter how finely he dressed, his natural features would never match the Elves' otherworldly beauty, and that alone would make him a target for ridicule.
To Edric, every race had its flaws. Humans, for instance, could be just as discriminatory—especially toward those with little wealth or less appealing looks. True, Elves were more blatant about it, but that didn't necessarily make them worse.
Human cruelty often stemmed from malice, envy, or sheer chaos. The weak were trampled, not out of cold superiority, but out of a twisted pleasure. Many humans bullied simply to vent their inner ugliness. Some acted out of primal urges, harming others without reason. Wealth didn't change that—if anything, some nobles were the worst of all, using their power to commit unspeakable acts against their own people.
That, Edric believed, was the curse of humanity: a race too heavily steeped in chaos and evil. But it wasn't all bleak. Humans also produced some of the kindest, most compassionate souls in the world—people who would sacrifice everything for what they believed was right.
High Elves, on the other hand, were deeply lawful but morally neutral—perhaps even leaning slightly toward evil. Compassion was a rarity among them. They didn't harm others out of malice or cruelty; rather, they simply regarded those less beautiful or less wealthy as inherently inferior and undeserving of regard.
There was a difference in motive, perhaps. But in practice, it hardly mattered.
Whether evil was done with good intentions or bad ones, the result was the same: the oppression of the weak.
Overall, humans were far more complex than High Elves. For one, it wasn't easy to draw a clear line between good and evil. One could commit evil for a good reason, do good for an evil reason, act with good intentions and cause harm, or act with evil intentions and still do good.
Each of these situations was layered in shades of gray.
Take, for example, doing evil for a good reason. Suppose one had to kill an innocent person to save a million lives. Killing an innocent is undeniably evil—but allowing a million to die by doing nothing could be argued to be an even greater evil. Either choice bore the weight of sin. And yet, both could be justified depending on one's values. In such a case, what truly is the right decision?
Then there's doing good for an evil reason. Feeding a starving village might seem noble—until you realize the act was done to make them dependent, to turn them into obedient followers. Or inventing a life-saving vaccine, only to control its supply and sell it at outrageous prices, exploiting the desperate. The action may appear virtuous, but the intent behind it is rotten.
Doing evil with good intentions is equally complex. A person might fight for a cause they believe to be just, only to discover—too late—that they were on the wrong side. History is filled with such examples. A nation might invade another in the name of "liberation," only to leave behind a trail of destruction. At the time, they believed they were doing the right thing. Only years later do the consequences reveal the truth.
And then, doing good with evil intentions—like a gang leader who kills a rival for power, unintentionally preventing future crimes that rival might've committed. The outcome is good, but the motive behind it is anything but. Of course, no one would praise the gang leader, and rightfully so.
In each of these cases, morality becomes murky. There's room for argument—endless debates over what's right and wrong. Among humans, such moral dilemmas happen every day, in countless forms.
Among High Elves, however, such complexities are rare. Bound by an extremely lawful nature, they resolve their ethical questions through rigid adherence to law. If the law forbids murder under any circumstance, then it is forbidden—no matter the consequences. Even if the death of one could save millions, a High Elf would refuse to act, for the law had spoken.
In a way, laws exist to simplify moral decisions. When a law clearly dictates the correct path, one no longer needs to agonize over right and wrong. But humans are not a race bound tightly to law. Many disregard it, especially when facing morally difficult choices.
High Elves, on the other hand, obey their laws to the letter, regardless of the outcome.
So then, which place is better to live in?
A city of humans, where law is flexible, and moral diversity abounds—but so too does chaos, corruption, and unpredictable cruelty?
Or a city of High Elves, where law is absolute, order is maintained, and actions are bound by rigid codes—but compassion and nuance are often lost?
The answer, as with most things, depends on the person.
But for most, the choice would be clear—they would choose the High Elves, who live by the law.
Because adherence to law often leads to peace.
Consider this: humans come from vastly different backgrounds, shaped by countless beliefs and experiences. Even if every single human acted with the intent to do good, conflict could still arise. One group might believe that killing another is the only path to lasting peace, while the other believes that same violence is necessary to save innocents from tyranny.
In other words, being morally "good" does not guarantee peace. What truly creates peace is lawfulness. A group of people who are lawful—even if they lean toward evil—are far more likely to live in harmony than a group of well-meaning, justice-driven individuals with chaotic natures.
The lands of the High Elves were proof of this. Their society was peaceful and meticulously ordered. Everyone lived in prosperity, not because they were kind or selfless, but because they followed strict rules. As mentioned before, High Elves as a race leaned slightly toward evil, while humans tended to lean slightly toward good. Yet it was the Elves who had built a peaceful, prosperous civilization.
Edric understood this well.
For the weak, living in High Elven territory was ideal. Peace was protected by law, not morality. But Edric was no weakling. He was an Ultra Knight—an existence powerful enough to protect himself from nearly any threat.
His needs were different now.
As someone with great power, he thrived better in chaotic lands, where freedom was greater, rules more flexible, and the strong had room to shape their own destiny. Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury of choosing his location.
He had been mysteriously transported to the Elven lands, far from the Flicker Empire, with no easy path back. And even if there had been, it mattered little. He had unfinished business—he needed to complete the system's task and retrieve the Dark Crystal. The reward was Millions of XP, a prize he desperately needed. But more importantly, the crystal was key to completing the second, third, and fourth stages of his task.
And so, for now, he would remain. Whether he liked it or not.