In the lush green uninhabited islands to the north, across the boundless azure sea, Detlev Urban and Crome Tesant are now stuck nurturing nine newborn infants they have cultivated from the genetic material left in Corona Labs. With the help of the much older Korbinian Kolman, both have been able to cultivate a new generation of Elves, but there is still so much to learn.
In a few months, Crome and Detlev are planning to send Korbinian to the cities of Alrodena and Goryo to trade these newborns for five year old Elves. This will fix the manpower shortage. Seven of the newborns are starting to exhibit the Curie Clan's physique, and Crome is contemplating to trade three of them for six normal Elves. After all, after some cultivation, the newborns would be pillars in the battlefield.
Five years old... Despite being immortal, elves do have a very low median age. They either die immediately at the age of five, or live to a hundred, but even at that age, without power, you're good as dead.
And the number of children who grow up to become full grown Elites isn't any better. The younger generations are just as likely to grow up as to become Elites, and the only difference is how long they live to become adults. It seems like every other generation of the Elf population has died before reaching adulthood.
Crome looks around him, his eyes scanning the room. There is Korbinian Kolman and his three students, his friend Detlev and him. The entire island has six elves who can work, and in a few months they have built an extension across McCready Citadel, a nursery surrounded by tall earthen walls, thanks to Korbinian. They've built two more chambers on the side of the citadel that are connected by a tunnel leading straight down into the underground. This place has become their main nursery, and they have made it as safe as possible.
The four other teachers in the room are all female, and all human. None of them are as young as Detlev and Crome, though.
Human brains seem to develop slower than Elven brains, and a five year old human is as good as an infant. These four human women aren't from here though, Crome can smell as much, they haven't seen them in this island before capturing them a few months back. After the initial reaction they seemed to acclimate, as if their lives weren't threatened. The first month was spent working with these humans, teaching them basic Elite techniques, making sure they weren't scared out of their wits when one of their own is attacked. Then they began teaching them about their culture, teaching them how to read, write, play music, and sing, even teach them some simple math. It was hard for Crome and Detlev to accept these little elves learning Human tongue from these foul pink skins, but they need a unique identity for this area, and there's no problem mixing human tongue with Crome's own.
The culture these women are teaching however... Is quite odd.
A knock on the door and one of those women enter the room. Eyeing the Elves inside, she starts to speak.
"Crome, Mr. Elf sir... I propose building a gymnasium to train the body!" She says with enthusiasm.
It doesn't escape Crome that this woman seems to be made of muscle, it's really interesting to see.
Since Crome has no experience building cities due to the lack of reference, he just lets these human helpers do as they please, since it looks like they know what they're doing.
He doesn't bother replying and just nods at Korbinian, who follows the woman out. Well, if they do something funny they could just kill them.
But they probably wouldn't. And anyway, killing people would be stupid, since the war has yet to begin. So what is there to kill them over? They aren't harming anyone and the war hasn't begun yet. Besides, it's not like they'd ever hurt a single elf. Right?
His head hurts. Maybe he should just go to sleep.
He was ambitious, wanting to start all of this, but it's hard to finish. He never imagined anything like this could happen. His life was just... boring. And now he can finally start something big. A real life change. One that will put this entire world on its knees... Or maybe it'll just cause chaos... But whatever happens, he's going to make sure everyone in the world knows his name.
That the whole world knows his name. And nobody will ever forget. Just four hours into his nap, he hears footsteps outside, and a knock on his bedroom door. "You awake, Lord First?" Korbinian asks from the other side.
"Yeah," Crome answers.
"We've been discussing the idea of expanding our training facilities," Korbinian continues.
Crome sits up. "Well then I suppose we can discuss that later. You can handle the logistics right now."
The man bows and leaves. Crome stretches, trying to wake himself up, and gets dressed. Today, there are only a few Elves living on the island, so today he decides to take care of a few things.
As Crome steps out of his quarters, he takes a deep breath of the salty sea air and begins his day. His first order of business is to inspect the port facilities to ensure they are ready for the influx of troops and supplies that will arrive in the coming days.
A scout will be sent out to the south in order to know if an exchange is possible. He steps onto the docks, his boots thudding against the wooden planks. The air is thick with the smell of fish and sea spray, and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. He walks along the docks, observing the activity with a critical eye.
"In this case, the short peace is really a preparation for war." He hears a voice coming from behind him. Turning around, he sees Lord First's second-in-command, Korbinian, standing there.