As we were strolling through the public guildhall of Luha, a group of adventurers at a nearby table caught my attention. Their grim conversation echoed the same rumors we had been hearing over the past few days, but now with added urgency and certainty.
The tallest among them, a burly Orc warrior with tattoos spiraling up his arms, grumbled, "Heard it from a reliable source, a Beastkin trader that we've known for years. Elves have tightened their borders, not even letting traders through."
A slender elf woman, her sharp green eyes reflecting her concern, added, "Yes, and the Beastkin are amassing a considerable army. Some say it's the largest they've seen in a century."
A dwarf with a bushy beard sipped on his mead before grumbling, "The damn fool leaders are stirring the pot, they are. Mark my words, this'll lead to nothing good."
A fourth member of their group, a quiet human woman with a mage's robe and a staff propped against her seat, murmured thoughtfully, "And it's not just them. The other races are getting dragged into this mess. Dwarves, Fae, even some human factions... they're all being pushed to choose sides."
The orc clenched his fist, banging the table in frustration. "A war would be a bloody disaster. Just when things were starting to look up, too..."
Their words cast a shadow over our minds. If the rumors were indeed true, we needed to prepare ourselves for the looming chaos. This wasn't just a problem for the Elves and the Beastkin, but something that threatened to engulf all of us.
***
While we walked on the streets, a crowd has gathered around the center of the street.
As I squeezed through the throng of onlookers, I found myself standing near the front of the crowd where an Elf and a Beastkin were locked in a fierce argument. The elf, tall and lithe with pointed ears peeking out from beneath a mess of silver hair, was red in the face. He pointed an accusatory finger at the beastkin, a hulking figure covered in coarse fur, with cat-like ears and eyes that burned with barely restrained rage.
"You filthy Beastkin, you and your ilk are the ones escalating tensions!" the elf hissed, his face twisted in anger.
"Us?!" the Beastkin roared back, baring sharp, predatory teeth. "You elves have been shutting us out, blockading trade routes and treating us like enemies!"
A rumble of agreement echoed through the crowd of Beastkin and their supporters, while murmurs of discontent spread among the Elves and their allies.
"It's always the same with you beastly lot!" the Elf retorted, "Quick to blame others, quick to violence, slow to reason!"
"And you, oh wise elves!" the Beastkin spat, "Think you're superior, don't you? Looking down on us from your lofty tree-tops!"
The argument grew heated and the tension was palpable. The crowd watched with bated breath as the Elf and the Beastkin continued their fierce exchange, embodying the animosity brewing between their races. All the while, I stood on the sidelines, silently observing the unfolding drama.
The escalating argument between the Elf and the Beastkin took a sudden, dramatic turn. With their anger reaching boiling point, both the Elf and the Beastkin drew their weapons simultaneously, their faces contorted in mutual defiance and loathing.
The Elf unsheathed an exquisite elvish longsword, the blade gleaming silver in the sunlight, as ethereal as it was deadly. The intricate patterns engraved onto the hilt bore testament to the centuries of elvish craftsmanship.
The Beastkin, on the other hand, unsheathed a monstrous battle-axe, its iron-gray blade looking cold and menacing. The hefty wooden handle was adorned with several beastly totems, reflecting the raw and primal culture of the Beastkin.
The atmosphere grew electric. A thrill of excitement passed through the crowd as they sensed the impending clash. The earlier arguments had escalated into something far more serious. The crowd's chants echoed through the air, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" they yelled in unison, an ominous soundtrack to the deadly confrontation unfolding before them.
The bustling market square had been transformed into an impromptu battleground. Eyes of spectators flicked between the Elf and the Beastkin, their breaths held in anticipation, waiting for the clash that seemed inevitable.
A deadly dance began in the midst of the crowd as the Elf and the Beastkin squared off against each other. Swift as a gust of wind, the Elf leapt forward, his silver blade arcing through the air, seeking his opponent's flesh. But the Beastkin was just as fast, raising his hefty battle-axe to parry the strike, the clash of metal on metal reverberating through the square.
The crowd watched in rapt silence as the duel continued. The Elf was graceful, his moves precise and fluid as water. He darted around his opponent, his longsword whirling like a silver storm. Each slash, each thrust, was delivered with deadly accuracy, but the Beastkin's defense was like a solid wall.
The Beastkin, in contrast, was like an unstoppable force, each swing of his battle-axe carried the strength of a beast and the rage of a warrior scorned. His strikes were more like powerful swipes of a wild animal than those of a traditional fighter, but they held a rough and effective beauty in their own right.
They clashed, parried, lunged, and retreated in a deadly dance. The Elf darted in and out, his silver blade flashing, while the Beastkin held his ground, his battle-axe a protective shield and a dangerous threat at the same time. The fight had turned into a brutal ballet, a fascinating, frightening display of deadly skill.
Before their weapons could connect, I strode forward, stepping between them and caught both of their weapons in mid-air. The Elf's longsword was in my right hand, the Beastkin's battle-axe in my left. Their attacks froze in place, held fast by my grip. The onlookers gasped in unison as they saw this unexpected intervention.
"I think that's enough," I said, my voice even but firm, an island of calm amidst the tension of the square. I stood there, weapons still in hand, my eyes flicking from the Elf to the Beastkin and back. "There's no need for this to escalate any further."
They both looked at me, stunned and speechless, as they tried to process what just happened. The tension in the air was palpable, the crowd waiting in breathless silence to see what would happen next.
I released their weapons slowly, my fingers uncurling from around their hilts. The sounds of the crowd were hushed, as if muted by the seriousness of the situation. I looked from the Elf to the Beastkin, my gaze steady and unyielding.
"Here's a thought," I began, my voice echoing in the silence, "If you two really want to fight, then take it to the arena. Prove your strength there."
My gaze intensified, the playful smile vanishing from my lips. "But if you insist on spilling blood on these public streets, disrupting the peace... then you will have to go through me first."
Murmurs broke out from the crowd. Most of the onlookers were familiar with my reputation as an S-tier champion who won the annual Roma duel competition. There was a collective intake of breath, anticipation of their response hanging in the air. The Elf and Beastkin looked at each other, then back at me, clearly unsure of their next move. The power dynamic had shifted, and everyone could feel it.
The Elf, a slender figure with sharp, angled features, sneered at me, his green eyes gleaming with resentment. "Well, aren't you the knight in shining armor?" he spat, his voice laced with sarcasm.
The Beastkin, a burly figure with coarse hair covering his body and sharp fangs visible when he spoke, gave a similar response. He snarled at me, showing his teeth. "Hmph. We didn't need you stepping in, Champion," he growled, his tone was full of disdain.
As if in agreement, they both turned their backs to the crowd, their figures silhouetted against the setting sun. Their footfalls echoed in the silence, a stark reminder of the brewing tensions. But for the moment, at least, the street was quiet once again.
Sera approached first, her arms folded across her chest. She looked up at me with her crimson eyes, her brows furrowed. "Always the peacekeeper, aren't you?" she huffed, her voice barely audible.
Aurelia followed, her sapphire eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Well, that was...interesting," she drawled, a teasing smirk dancing on her lips.
Lila, with her shy and reserved demeanor, gently held onto my arm. "That was really brave, master," she said, her voice filled with admiration. She offered me a soft, warm smile.
Kuroko, the cool and quiet one, only gave a small nod of acknowledgment, a subtle sign of respect. She quietly said, "Good job, boss."
Despite their differing personalities, all of them shared a common understanding of the dire situation at hand and the importance of unity in such times.
***
As we settled into the quiet hum of the White Phoenix, Sera broke the silence. Her fiery eyes met mine, a hint of urgency flashing within them. "I think we should go back into the Abyss Dungeon. I... We need to level up," she said, her voice edged with determination.
Her words hung heavy in the air, prompting the others to weigh in. Aurelia was the first to respond, "She's got a point. If a war is brewing, we need to be prepared."
Lila, her hands folded neatly on her lap, chimed in, her voice soft yet steady, "Yes, master. I believe it is a wise decision. We all need to grow stronger."
Kuroko remained silent for a moment longer, her sharp gaze seemingly looking past the confines of the ship. "Agreed," she finally said, her voice resonating with resolve. "The Abyss Dungeon could provide us the strength we need."
Sera crossed her arms, a smug grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Long or short, doesn't matter. We can handle it."
Aurelia raised a slender eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Bring it on. There's no challenge too big for us."
Lila simply nodded, her expression serene but determined. "Whatever it takes, master. We're with you."
Kuroko, ever the pragmatist, drew one of her daggers, studying its edge in the dim light. "Then we better stock up. If we're going for a long haul, we'll need supplies. And sharpened blades."
The unified determination in their voices filled the cabin, echoing off the walls of the White Phoenix, resounding with a promise of shared struggles and victories. The long journey into the Abyss Dungeon seemed less daunting knowing that they were ready to face it head on.
Q: How would you defuse tension between friends?