Mage Legend

"If Lynch were here, he would definitely understand what they're saying." Zilvra thought with a slight sense of self-blame. So far, she had never seen the mage encounter a language he couldn't understand, as if he were under the constant effect of the 'Mastering Language' spell.

Fyyian's tone was getting increasingly firm, while the Fishmen remained unhurried. Zilvra had also heard that these creatures were always greedy, insatiably desiring things even if they had no use for them. The First Family had once organized a campaign to cleanse the Fishmen of the Underdark to punish their 'provocation and disobedience.' Whatever the reason, no Fishman Tribe was seen around Ratris City anymore, not even a single fish egg remained. The First Family returned laden with spoils, greatly enriching their treasury.

The spoils included numerous human artworks—the Fishmen lacked any appreciation for art, several magical devices—Fishmen had no mages, and even some common Dwarven armor. Heaven knows what they needed such small armor for. It's not like they could swim in heavy metal armor, right?

They never traded these items, only amassed them. So, every few decades, the Dark Elf Family would band together to help the Fishmen clear out their warehouses.

After a period of negotiation, Fyyian spoke less and less, maintaining silence more often. Although his disfigured face showed no expression, Zilvra could still sense the elf's anger. The Fishmen kept chattering on incessantly, repeating phrases that even Zilvra, who couldn't understand their language, had memorized.

Finally, Fyyian waved to stop the Fishman's lengthy diatribe, nodded, and extended his right hand, palm up, in front of the Fishman. The creature opposite also placed its sticky, webbed forelimb onto his hand, sealing the deal.

Fyyian had no intention of entertaining the Fishmen after the deal, and those creatures didn't seem to mind the lack of courtesy either. As the Fishmen left the Undead Tower, Zilvra had already stealthily slipped back into her room.

"What should I do?" Zilvra thought with some concern. The waters of Erutalon were deadly to evil creatures, and the Fishmen were no exception. However, Fyyian had still reached some agreement with these aquatic beings. On careful thought, there was indeed a pathway for the Fishmen to launch an attack.

Salantir was surrounded by sea on three sides, a paradise for Fishmen. Although the Elf Kingdom's coastline was included in Lynch's defense strategy, could it maintain its strength during the Undead attack?

If Lynch's prediction held true, with the Residual Star Swamp being the main attack point and the Ghosts and Vampires serving as diversionary forces, the elves could focus their strength on dealing with these enemies. But with the third force from the ocean added, could those pointy-eared beings manage on all fronts?

"Who knows if there will be more allies?" Zilvra worried. "Promise aid before the battle, then use up the fee-demanding reinforcements during the fight to save funds; Dark Elves often do such things."

She looked at the pouring rain outside, afraid to be caught and raise Fyyian's suspicion, unable to leave now to send a message, feeling at a loss.