Chapter 24: Chapter 24.0 – Joining the Elf Tribe

Damon woke up on a bed of leaves. The walls surrounding him were made of compacted earth and wood. Although the floor was made of dirt, it seemed to have been flattened with earth magic. Damon touched the area where he’d been pierced by the arrow. It didn’t seem to have been healed with healing magic and the wound had yet to scar. Damon used a preservation spell on the wound and laid back down.

An hour later, two elves walked into the earth hut. They were rather short, perhaps five feet tall. The first elf had black hair, eyes, and grey skin. Salamander leather covered his chest, a leather quilt covered his legs, and he carried a wooden bat in his hand.

The elf spoke, “kldsjaf adfljd asdkfj.”

Gibberish, the first man spoke gibberish. Damon couldn’t understand a single thing even though he had the, all humanoid language comprehension skill.

“Do you understand what I say?” asked Damon. This situation might get out of hand if he didn’t tread lightly. Who knows, these people might be some kind of shapeshifting monsters. Even if this wasn’t the case, they were an isolated tribe. These kinds of people usually distanced themselves from outsiders due to their high social cohesion.

The two elves faced each other. Although they were conversing in their weird language. Their attention was still on Damon, ready to smash his brains in at any time.

Damon readied himself for a fight. He reflexively reached for his sword and shield; however, it wasn’t there. The one hundred gold coins sword had been stolen. First, he decided to try and communicate with pictograms. He used his finger to draw a sword and shield on the earth. When the pair looked at him in curiosity, he looked around to indicate he was searching for the item he had just drawn on the ground.

The two men shook their heads and pointed to the sky.

Damon guessed they said that the sword went to their leader or had been given to a deity. Well, that last option made less sense; however, he couldn’t assume anything in this situation. Either way, Damon couldn’t have that. He shook his head and pointed to himself again. Did these people think that since they hunted him, they got to keep his goods?

The men shook their heads and pointed to the sky once again.

Damon wanted to kill them right away and go take back his sword, however, with his wounds and the fact he couldn’t tell if they were mages, he decided to stay in bed till he recovered. His sword shouldn’t disappear anytime soon. Nor would it be useful if he got killed.

Later that day the two elves brought a wooden bowl filled with chunks of meat in water. Damon thanked them and ate the mixture of what looked like liver, flesh, and other internal organs. With this Damon guessed their diet was heavily meat focused, which made sense seeing that this forest didn’t seem to be inhabited by very many wild vegetables or fruits.

Damon contacted Stolas, “Stolas, I found some elves living deep within the swamps; however, they aren’t sun elves, nor dark elves, and I can’t communicate with them. Do you know what they are?”

Stolas seemed to think for a second, “Well, if they’re elves with grey skin they should probably be earth elves. But I never sensed any intelligent life in the forest.”

Damon thought about it. He remembered seeing the goblins, orcs, and trolls communicate together; however, he couldn’t understand what they said. “What distinguishes a humanoid and nonhumanoid creature?” asked Damon.

“How could I forget?” exclaimed Stolas, “the way you understand and speak to people is with the use of a skill. Since skills are an extension of magic, it means that these people are devoid of magic at the very least and skills altogether at worse.”

Damon’s jaw almost dropped. “That would make sense, but how come I can’t communicate with goblin shamans then?”

“Have you ever tried?” asked Stolas, “I’ve never seen anyone one else with the language acquisition skill, so I doubt anyone has ever tried speaking to them. Although we know they have a language. They are too violent and stupid to speak to. But this really surprises me. To think there’s a wood elf tribe devoid of magic in the human continent. I can’t even imagine how they managed to get there.”

“Well, doesn’t that also mean that they’re incredibly weak?” I asked. But then again, perhaps they still gained levels. Just without gaining mana. He found it incredible how they’d managed to survive so long in the middle of this swamp.

“It is possible,” said Stolas, “We’ll have fun and don’t die.”

“Wait,” said Damon in a hurry even though the line couldn’t be cut. “What can you tell me about earth elves?”

“Well, they like to live in muddy terrain, they’re rather short in both stature and lifespan for elves, about a hundred and fifty years. Although they are stronger than other elves, there isn’t anything special about them.”

“Thanks.”

Damon didn’t feel too threatened anymore. Although he might still find it hard to retrieve his weapon with a head on approach. With the use of dark magic, he shouldn’t find it too hard to steal it. He just needed to find it first.

For the next two weeks, Damon stayed on the leaf bed. The two elves came once a day to bring him meat stew. Each time they came he made drawing of something, said its corresponding word in whichever language he was speaking. And tried his best to remember the corresponding word in the earth elves language. Thanks to his memory skill, he could remember a word after having heard it thrice on different days. Plus, with the elves increased exposure to him, they seemed to have slightly let down their guard. They eventually started to bring their meals there and spend three to four hours a day to teaching him their language.

Perhaps due to the fact these were the first elves he’d seen other than the transmigrates he felt extremely motivated to learn their language and in two weeks he learned about four to five hundred words. He still couldn’t speak it, but he could understand basic sentences. The fact that these were rather primitive people probably helped since they had a much less expansive vocabulary. No one needed a word for gold, philosophy, nor kingdom when your life centred around hunting, making new clothes, fucking, and sleeping. Although that’s not to say, their lives were worse than those who lived in the so-called civilized world. I’m sure there are a few million serfs and slaves dying to live here instead. A simple life was often better after all.

When Damon’s condition improved, the two men asked him if he wanted to leave. But Damon didn’t want to be sent back into the forest, especially without his sword. A few days ago, he’d gone out of the hut and realized that he wasn’t inside the village, but on its outskirts, beyond its mud walls. If he could learn the language to a higher extent, he could maybe, just maybe enter the village. Since these elves didn’t have access to magic and had probably never been in contact with anyone that does. He could use his magic to impress them, and perhaps, if ever possible maybe usurp the title of village chief.

Even though he didn’t mind travelling the swamps and sleeping on trees, if he could live in a comfortable house, go earn Exp anytime he wants with a back-up party it would be much more convenient. However, most importantly it would grant him the opportunity to dissect corpses. When he lived in the swaps all alone, he couldn’t dissect anything in fear of attracting beasts. Damon opened his status screen:

             Damon Asmodeus LVL. 14 (2860/5000)

Charisma	Intelligence	Perception	Agility	Endurance	Strength	Mana You are reading story Black Prince: Cruel Magic at novel35.com
17 (+2)	44 (+2)	30	28	17	18	129 (+6)

 

• All humanoid language acquisitions
• Arithmetic’s Lvl.6/7
• Black magic Lvl.3/10
• Dark magic Lvl.3/10
• Dark spirit communication Lvl.3/10
• Detect diseases and viruses through smell Lvl.3/5
• Earth magic Lvl.3/5
• Improved memory Lvl.3/5
• Medium disease tolerance
• Night vision
• Telepathy Lvl.3/10

The next time the two men came by, he acted weak and stayed in the bed. Since infections and diseases were the norm, they didn’t question his state and let him stay in the hut for the next two weeks. With this time, he continued to pursue him language learning journey. Although he couldn’t speak well, he could understand what they said, even if he sometimes had to piece together sentences.

“Feel better now,” said Damon to the two elves had just exited the village and were heading towards the hut with the same stew as always.

“That’s good, we’ll eat this final meal, and you can leave. We will give you a club.”

Damon shook his head and asked them with broken sentences. “Live in the village, great honour.”

He continued and explained that the humans had chased him away because of his ears. Although they had never stepped out of the swamps, they knew that other races existed, and that Damon was also an elf, yet they didn’t know of humanities existence. This interested Damon greatly and let him spin a grant tall of humans being elf hunters. With the aid of the frighteningly large scar on his chest, it made for a convincing story.

Since the two wood elves had come to know him very well in the past month, they looked at each other and back at Damon. “We will ask the chief.”

“Thank you, if you accept me know that I will become a good hunter and pay back my debts to you for feeding me.”

The two elves left, and Damon could only hope that these men were of high enough standing inside the tribe to influence the chief’s decision.

The next day the two elves came back, “Come, you will meet the chief.”

Damon followed close behind. A large moat of mud and wood wall surrounded the village. Since the two hunters had left for half a minute to retrieve Damon, the doors were still open, and they entered the village without any problem. The most surprising thing he saw was the large number of wood elves surrounding the entrance. They were probably waiting to see the first outsider, or non-wood elf of their lives. There were around sixty people; however, he noticed that there were only twenty men. He guessed that even in these tiny villages war and skirmishes existed. The two hunters led Damon to a house in the middle of the village. It was made of a mixture of straw, wood, and mud, which indicated the elf's higher position.

Inside the leader sat on a fur carpet. As an elf Damon could tell he wasn’t young for a wood elf. Perhaps one hundred and twenty, his body was slightly above average in height, he measured about five feet and three inches, and his muscles were more pronounced than the others. However, this palled in comparison to Damon, who stood at five feet eleven, and whose dark purple skin accentuated his lean musculature.

This society was probably based on lineage since he noticed the two hunters who fed him stand behind the elder. Their resemblance was quite striking when standing still next to their father. Next to chief elf with greyish-white skin, three female elves sat on their knees behind him. Their skin was smooth and clear. Their long elf ears gave of a refined look. For the first time since coming here, Damon felt his heart flutter.

Since elves couldn’t reproduce with humans, the lack of attractiveness to them made sense. This revelation somewhat bloomed a slight disgust towards humans, who would fuck whatever crossed their paths. No doubt the word zoophile didn’t exist for elves, but for humans, well it wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t unheard of either.

Yes, humans were to be avoided, but these elves were beautiful beyond belief.

Perhaps the elder realized Damon’s gaze as he started to talk in a loud voice; however, he didn’t seem displeased either. He probably revelled in the envy of others.

“What is your name?” said the elder.

“Damon,” he answered curtly.

“Why do you wish to live in my tribe?”

“Because the humans have chased me away for my ears.”

“What can you bring to me?”

“I will hunt.”

The chief nodded, “I will give you the house where you have been staying, when you prove yourself, I will give you the honour of living in the village.”

 Their lines of thoughts were simple. The questions were short without any ulterior motive. The only political or personal maneuvering you could say he employed, was to keep Damon at the village’s outskirts. Since he talked in such an arrogant manner, it probably wasn’t to keep him away from his tribesmen in fear for their safety, but in fear of his position.

“Tomorrow, at sun light you will hunt with Louis and Gerald.”

Damon nodded; the chief handed him a spear with a stone head. Damon headed back to his new house and practised his magic dark magic.

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