Chapter 409 - 393: Tula Morningstar

Chapter 409: Chapter 393: Tula Morningstar

"Hey, don’t glare at me like that."

Galvis raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but a smile still played on his lips.

"The way you and Teresa feel about him... forget me, even that dolt Freddy could probably see it. The only one who wouldn’t notice is Roland, the guy who never shuts up about ’Power’..."

As he mentioned the protagonist of his poems, Galvis’s gaze softened slightly, and his tone took on an inquisitive edge.

"Speaking of which, Avril, have you ever wondered... why Roland is so obsessed with Power, pursuing it almost to the point of madness?"

He didn’t wait for an answer, continuing as if tracing the narrative of a poem for himself.

"At first, I thought he was like any other run-of-the-mill ambitious type—either desperate to trade Power for influence, or trying to fill some kind of void in his heart. But later I realized... that wasn’t it at all."

He let out a soft, complex laugh and shook his head.

"The way that guy increases his strength... it’s less like a ’pursuit’ and more like... fulfilling some kind of predetermined ’contract’? Or maybe a ’goal’ that must be achieved?"

"I’ve never seen anyone maintain such precise and constant Concentration on the act of getting stronger itself, as if his life is guided by an invisible track that he dares not deviate from for a single moment."

Galvis stroked his chin, murmuring half-jokingly, half-seriously.

"Sometimes I even get this absurd feeling, as if... he’s holding a ’Destiny Scroll’ that we can’t see, one that clearly lists all the benchmarks he must hit, and he’s just following it step by step."

Just as Galvis was trying to dispel the heavy atmosphere in the dungeon with his banter, a set of steady footsteps broke the silence.

The footsteps grew closer, finally stopping in front of their cell.

The visitor was a pure-blood male Elf with a tall, straight posture. His long, silver-white hair was tied back neatly, revealing a handsome, chiseled face.

His emerald eyes were like a forest in early spring, holding just the right amount of gentleness and concern.

On his brow, he wore a circlet that looked like a casually woven crown of branches but was, in fact, exquisitely designed, with a few silver leaves faintly visible within it.

"Oh! Look who has graced us with his presence!"

Galvis immediately adopted his trademark exaggerated Minstrel’s tone, placing a hand over his chest in a flamboyant bow.

"Your Excellency, the great Tula Morningstar, your arrival truly makes this damp, gloomy cell shine with brilliance."

Hearing this, a helpless, wry smile appeared on the handsome face of the Elf named Tula. He shook his head gently, his voice as smooth as jade.

"Mr. Galvis, you know very well that your detainment here was a joint decision by the Elder Council. I even argued forcefully on your behalf at the hearing..."

He sighed, his gaze sincere.

"So, I really don’t think you should be venting this resentment on me."

"How could I dare to resent you?"

Galvis wore an impeccable smile, but a knowing light glinted in his eyes.

"I’m just... a little curious."

His gaze slowly swept over the exquisite circlet on Tula’s brow, his voice like the soft strum of a lute string.

"During my time away from the Eternal Song Forest, how did you, a man who has always been so modest and unassuming, get unanimously elected by the Elder Council as the next heir to the Elf Race? And what methods did you use to make those stubborn old fools so... obedient to your every word?"

He tilted his head elegantly, his tone growing even more subtle.

"And... what was the real purpose of your recent trip to the River Domain? Also..."

Galvis’s gaze sharpened suddenly, but his voice maintained its characteristic Minstrel’s rhythm.

"What exactly did you say to ’persuade’ our cautious Miss Avril to return to the Eternal Song Forest, making her walk willingly into this obvious trap?"

He took half a step forward, flashing a brilliant smile at Tula through the iron bars.

"The answers to all these questions make me, a poet who chronicles stories, incredibly curious."

"Why not enlighten me today? I promise I’ll compose a suitably... magnificent poem for you."

After listening to Galvis’s barb-laden words, Tula’s handsome face still held that impeccable gentleness, and he just shook his head with a hint of resignation.

"It seems, Mr. Galvis, that you have quite a misunderstanding about me."

His voice was steady and sincere.

"But please rest assured, your master has already personally raised a formal objection with the Elder Council. I believe it won’t be long before you regain your freedom."

With that, he shifted his gaze from the Minstrel to the ever-silent Avril, his eyes showing just the right amount of apology.

"Miss Avril, the Elder Council summons you."

"I apologize, but given the strength you’ve demonstrated in the past, I cannot remove your restraints. I hope you understand."

As his voice fell, he gestured with a slight wave of his hand.

Two fully armed Elf Warriors behind him immediately stepped forward. They efficiently untied Avril from the stone pillar and rebound her hands with a special rope.

Throughout the process, the two Warriors deliberately avoided meeting Avril’s gaze, their movements carrying an almost imperceptible stiffness.

The figure before them, once the pride of the Silver Moon Guard and hailed as the "Valkyrie," was now being escorted away on charges of "consorting with Zor."

This filled the heart of every Elf Warrior who had once fought alongside her with indescribably complex emotions.

Avril didn’t resist at all, allowing them to lead her out of the cell.

But as she passed by Tula, she raised her eyes and gave him a deep, long look.

Tula nodded slightly, then turned. His long, silver-white hair traced an elegant arc in the dim light as he calmly followed the escort team out of the prison area.

Galvis stood rooted to the spot, watching them leave. The eyes that were always filled with amusement slowly narrowed, his gaze seeming to bore through their retreating figures.

Then, he slowly retreated into the shadows in the corner, leaning against the cold stone wall, his eyes flashing with a sharp light in the gloom.

’This Tula Morningstar...’

’He’s too perfect. So perfect it’s almost fake.’

’His impeccable etiquette, his perfectly measured concern, his composed responses to accusations... it’s all like a meticulously painted scroll, without a single flaw to be found.’

’How does an Elf who was practically a nonentity on the political stage of the Eternal Song Forest suddenly, in such a short time, not only win the almost unconditional support of the Elder Council but also get designated as the next leader? That’s not something you can achieve with bloodline or a few pretty words alone.’

’My master intervening might actually get me out of this dungeon... but that’s probably part of his calculations, too.’

’His coming here in person... it wasn’t so much to inform me as it was a silent warning. Or... a show of power?’

Galvis let out a soft breath, his fingertips curling unconsciously.

’And that... mysterious circlet...’

He had a clear premonition.

This seemingly gentle "Morning Star"—his hidden true nature and his schemes were likely far more dangerous than Avril’s strange story of being "divinely chosen."

The cell returned to a dead silence, with only the faint sound of dripping water echoing in the Darkness.

Galvis’s brow was furrowed as he tried to piece together the known clues in his mind over and over.

Every fragment pointed toward some hidden truth, but they refused to connect into a complete picture.

The severe lack of information shrouded his judgment like a dense fog.

He rubbed his temples in frustration, finally letting out a resigned sigh and temporarily suppressing his chaotic thoughts.

’The most urgent matter now is Avril’s safety.’

However, no matter how he analyzed the situation, he could find no viable way to rescue her from deep within this heavily guarded dungeon, under the watchful eyes of the Elder Council and Tula himself.

The disparity in Power and the helplessness of his situation were like invisible shackles, trapping him right where he stood.

A sense of powerlessness began to creep over him.

He shook his head, his low voice, almost a whispered sigh, echoing softly in the empty cell.

"Roland... this time, I’m truly at a loss."

As the words faded, he raised his slender fingers and plucked at the empty air before him, as if strumming the strings of a lute.

Where his fingertips passed, extremely faint, invisible ripples seemed to spread out.

He closed his eyes, gathering all of his Spirit, and continued to whisper in a voice only he could hear.

"I just hope... you’re not in a place completely cut off by chaotic Magic Elements this time, like you were in the Land of Mist..."