Mithras glanced up at Daniel and said calmly, “I know you like pretty girls. I can assure you, this demon princess is no less beautiful than Orlanis.”

  Daniel’s voice trembled slightly. “Father, about the marriage alliance with the demons…”

  Before he could finish, Mithras raised his hand to interrupt him. “I know you like pretty girls. I can assure you, this demon princess is no less beautiful than Orlanis.”

  Orlanis’s figure flashed through Daniel’s mind. She was an elven noble lady, cold and beautiful like moonlight.

  Her eyes were like deep lakes, shimmering with mysterious light; her long hair cascaded like a waterfall, exuding a faint fragrance.

  Her graceful demeanor and sweet smile had moved Daniel countless times. But now, he had no time to dwell in those fond memories.

  The demons were vastly different from the elves—this was a well-known fact. Regardless of their appearance, elves always retained a degree of elegance and beauty, with a high baseline for looks.

  Demons, on the other hand, had a much wider range: the attractive ones could rival the most stunning elves, but the ugly ones were grotesque and unbearable to look at.

  Images of demons from legends surfaced in Daniel’s mind: some had tusks and fearsome faces; others were covered in scales, exuding an eerie aura. The thought that his future wife might look like that made cold sweat bead on his palms.

  “Father, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but this is a serious matter… Could you perhaps swear a small oath to the Great Moon Goddess?” Daniel gritted his teeth and summoned the courage to ask.

  Though his voice was firm, his eyes revealed a trace of unease. Upon hearing this, Mithras’s lips curled into a meaningful smile. He raised his eyebrows slightly, amusement glinting in his eyes.

  “Oh? You dare force your father to swear an oath to the Goddess, just because of such a trivial reason? That’s a sign of disrespect to the Great Moon Goddess.”

  Daniel’s heart tightened as he realized his request might have crossed a line. In this era, gods objectively existed, and people held deep reverence for them.

  To the elves, the Moon Goddess was the highest of deities. Asking someone to casually swear an oath in her name was indeed offensive.

  Yet he couldn’t rest easy. This concerned his lifelong happiness—he had to be cautious. He opened his mouth to explain but didn’t know where to begin, so he remained silent.

  Mithras seemed to see through his son’s concerns, and his smile softened. “I am your father. Of course, I must consider the empire and our people, but I would never sacrifice you. I know very well—you’ve been a face lover since you were little. So am I. There’s nothing shameful about being into good looks.”

  His voice was filled with understanding and warmth, as though comforting a frightened child. “I can assure you, I’ve taken your aesthetic preferences fully into account. Even if you’re truly dissatisfied, you can always find… other pleasures outside the household. Maintain your marriage at home, and outside, well, in the long journey of life, lingering amidst the scenic beauties along the way—wouldn’t that be a kind of romance too?”

  Daniel’s eyes widened in shock. He couldn’t believe those words came from his father. In his mind, Mithras had always been a stern, dignified man, who upheld etiquette and tradition.

  Such open-minded remarks were completely unexpected. He stared blankly at his father, trying to find some hint of jest in his expression. But Mithras soon returned to his usual composure, as if what he had just said was nothing more than a passing comment.

  “Political marriages have nothing to do with love. If the couple truly can’t get along, then seeking one’s own emotional and physical solace isn’t out of the question. But one thing cannot be changed—this alliance must go forward. Now go, my child. Don’t neglect your cultivation. You should know, the empire’s situation is far from ideal. The empire and our people need you.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  His father turned his gaze toward the window. In his eyes, there was a flicker of fatigue and worry. Backlit by the sunlight, his figure appeared somewhat frail.

  Daniel knew—this was a dismissal. He rose reluctantly, bowed respectfully, and slowly left the room. As he stepped outside, sunlight fell on him, but it could not dispel the shadow looming in his heart.

  The Elven Empire’s situation was indeed as his father described—dire. Walking through the palace corridor, Daniel couldn’t help but recall that heavy history.

  Once, the elves had lived in the heart of the world—the Gaia Continent. It was a place of unparalleled geography and rich resources, ideal for higher intelligent beings.

  At its peak, the Elven Empire had shared rule over the continent with the Demon Tribe. The two sides were divided by the Spiritual River, each occupying one half, maintaining a delicate balance.

  Thanks to their formidable individual power, the elves sat upon the throne of dominion for countless years. However, this comfortable life gradually gave rise to a noble sickness.

  They became addicted to pleasure, indulging in luxury and illusory spiritual pursuits. They no longer wished to bear children, viewing them as shackles on personal freedom.

  The elven population slowly dwindled, and they remained blind to the impending crisis. Meanwhile, in the southern mountains, the orcs they had long despised were quietly rising in strength.

  Although orcs are not strong in individual combat, a single adult elf can effortlessly kill five to ten orc warriors. The saying "one elf equals ten orcs" is known to all.

  However, their numbers are overwhelming. Orcs reach sexual maturity at fifteen, and before reaching menopause at forty, a female orc can give birth to a litter every year. If left unchecked, their population growth is truly terrifying.

  As one side weakened and the other surged, the orcs swept in like a raging tide, overwhelming the Elven Empire, whose population was fewer than thirty million. Though the elves fought valiantly, they were ultimately no match for the sheer numbers of the orcs.

  In the end, they were forced to abandon their homeland—the Gaia Continent—and flee to the much smaller micro-continent of Lundberg, which is one-tenth the size.

  Between Lundberg and the Gaia Continent lies a land bridge roughly ten kilometers wide. Along this narrow stretch, the Elven Empire used the terrain to construct a nearly impenetrable line of defense.

  This defensive line was named after Nochima, the great elven artisan of the time. At its center stood the Fortress of Valencia, a city said to be impregnable.

  The fortress towered into the clouds, its walls unyieldingly strong and equipped with advanced defensive mechanisms. With this line of defense, the elves temporarily halted the orcs' expansion. At least until the orcs developed a navy, the Elven Empire was safe.

  Yet, this safety was only temporary. To protect the empire and the elven race, Daniel's father made the difficult yet unavoidable decision to seek an alliance with the demons across the sea to the north, on the Atlans Continent.

  The demons possessed the most formidable navy in the world. They had once been both enemies and allies of the elves and, like the elves, had been driven from the Gaia Continent by the orcs. In the face of a common enemy, an alliance seemed only natural.

  Selling off a son to marry a demon princess and form an unbreakable political alliance might seem like a smart move from a political standpoint.

  Back in his room, Daniel slumped powerlessly over his desk. The room was utterly silent, broken only by the occasional wind brushing past the window.

  He poured himself a glass of water, watching the surface ripple as he tried to calm his thoughts. He understood his father’s plan—objectively, it was a well-reasoned decision, one so sound that even Daniel couldn’t think of a better alternative.

  From a neutral, third-party perspective, he might have even applauded the political marriage. But when the prince being "sold" was himself, he just couldn’t feel happy about it.

  Daniel thought bitterly, "You're doing this for the Elven Empire, for the good of our people—but I’m not even an elf! I’m just a human youth who accidentally ended up in this world from another one. If this place won’t keep me, then somewhere else will. I could always go join the humans..."

  But his thoughts abruptly stopped.

  He suddenly remembered—there were no humans in this world.

  Perhaps because of the existence of elves, demons, orcs, and various beastkin, early apes never had the space to evolve. Thus, there were no humans here—only a relative of humanity called the “Yahoo.”

  These creatures, known as Yahoos or “hairy folk,” had facial features eerily similar to humans, but their bodies were covered in thick hair. They behaved crudely and instinctually, living entirely by primal urges.

  They knew nothing of love, shame, marriage, or family. Their methods of reproduction were closer to animal mating than anything remotely civilized.

  To Daniel, even orcs seemed more advanced than the Yahoos. The thought filled him with despair.

  He screamed internally. Though Yahoos looked strikingly similar to humans, he refused to acknowledge them as such. In his eyes, they were nothing more than a bunch of apes who hadn’t finished evolving.

  At last, Daniel came to a grim realization. Whether he admitted it or not, in this world, he was a highborn elf. That was an unchangeable fact.

  As he was lost in thought, a maid's gentle voice came from outside the door:

  "Master, your second brother is here."