Chapter 10 The Divine Pen
It was a terrible day. The sky was leaden gray, and a cold wind whipped up a torrential downpour that lashed against the tree branches.
Alan hid in a tree, his thoughts drifting away with the raindrops.
This was the border of the eastern district of the elven territory. It was the Elven King's birthday, but demons had been causing trouble lately. Alan had been assigned to this area as a temporary guard by Esley. His abilities were meager, and the pass he guarded was insignificant.
But even this insignificant pass had withstood three demon attacks.
The first was two demons, seemingly just passing by, whom he drove back. Unexpectedly, they returned quickly, their numbers increasing from two to ten. The third time, a whole regiment came.
A cold wind swept by. At the end of the road was a slope. Allen heard an unusual noise and crouched down to peer out. He saw a caravan, its massive wooden wheels rumbling. The caravan approached, their figures disheveled, struggling to move through the rain.
Allen observed them for a moment. They didn't seem to be demons, but he didn't let his guard down. A flash of golden light appeared in his hand, and an invisible barrier tore through the air, blocking the unknown caravan.
"Who are you!" he called out from the foliage, not revealing himself.
"We are earth elves from Thor. We brought gifts to celebrate the Elven King's birthday, but we were robbed by demons along the way."
The speaker was an old man. Elves were known for their beauty and youth, except for their smaller relatives in the north and south—the goblins of the south and the dwarves of the north. And because they lived in underground caves for so long, they didn't care much about their appearance.
Seeing their caravan, Allen was already seven-tenths convinced, but his naturally reserved nature prevented him from making a decision on his own. Then he saw the old goblin pull down his raincoat, letting the rain soak his face without any protection.
"We're exhausted and hungry now. Can we go in quickly? I'm afraid they'll chase us," the old goblin said, shrinking back uneasily. His pitiful appearance stirred a pang of sympathy in Allen.
"Then come in," Allen said.
The old goblin tentatively took a step forward, finding no obstruction. The barrier that had blocked their path had disappeared. A glint of light flashed in his eyes. Before he could say anything more, an elf leaped down from a tree and stood before them.
The elf was very young and didn't seem to possess any great magical power.
"With demons rampant these days, it's too dangerous for you to travel without the ability to protect yourselves. I'll notify them to come and fetch you," the elf said, leading the caravan through the forest and stopping beneath a row of treehouses.
"You can rest here until then."
"Thank you for your help," the old goblin said.
"Not at all, we're family! And you've come all this way to celebrate the King's birthday, haven't you?"
Darkness gradually fell, and the rain continued.
"The rain is getting quite heavy. I don't know if there's a problem with the teleportation array, but there's no response from the other side. I guess you'll have to stay here for the night."
So they pitched a tent under the treehouse, then lit a fire and sat together chatting.
"When we were attacked by demons on the road, we were almost in despair," the old goblin rolled up his sleeves, showing the elves the bruises he had sustained.
"Their fighting power was incredibly strong."
"Luckily, we escaped quickly, only losing some valuables. Later, we heard that this area hadn't been attacked by demons, so we fled here. We heard the guards here are very strong, so what about the other elves?"
"This place is remote and has few minerals, so I'm the only one guarding it," Allen shook his head.
"How could that be! That powerful force at the fork in the road, there's no mistake…" the old goblin exclaimed excitedly, then suddenly, as if realizing something, he looked at Allen with admiration.
"So that's it! Truly, a hero emerges from among the young. All of us old folks combined aren't as powerful as you."
"I'm not that powerful," Allen blushed at the praise. It was the first time in his life he'd received such direct and enthusiastic praise, and he felt a little uncomfortable.
"You must be hungry. I'll go get you some food."
The elf said he was alone, but when he returned, he was carrying a large amount of food, enough for their group of more than ten people. And it wasn't the kind that keeps well; the fruit covered in the bamboo basket was fresh and plump, as if it had just been picked, and it included fruits from all seasons.
"We are so lucky to have such kind and hospitable relatives," the old goblin said with a meaningful smile.
"That's right, those fruits appeared suddenly, and then I saw him hide something in his pocket. It was golden, definitely not something ordinary."
Night, beneath the treehouse, the old goblin listened to his companion's report, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"So, we can find the reason why we couldn't conquer this place. The force that blocked us earlier must have been caused by something the elves hid. We must get it."
On a starless night, Allen lay in the tree, his thoughts once again merging with the rain, drifting back to those ordinary days.
"You want this?" the angel asked, taking a pen from the easel.
His tone was confident, as if he could read Allen's mind, but Allen had come to give him a pen; why would he covet the angel's pen?
However, when his gaze fell on the golden pen, he couldn't say anything. It was indeed a very beautiful pen.
"Then you can have it."
The angel's generosity shocked Allen; the other said it was a reward for protecting the easel.
A reward—that's a strange way of putting it.
At first, Allen didn't know what he had received. After the angel disappeared, he waited by the lake for several more days, but this time he had a premonition he wouldn't see the embodiment of beauty again. He unconsciously imitated the angel, setting up his easel by the lake.
Elves are the darlings of art. Allen wasn't particularly skilled in elemental power, but he was a genius in painting and creation, recognized by the Elf King. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been given the Aquimin Gem Pen, a treasure only found in the elven holy land, at birth. This sapphire, a symbol of blessing, had been offered to the gods, and its rarity and beauty had once earned divine praise.
As Allen's most cherished pen, the Aquimin Pen lay casually on his paint palette. The golden ore was ground into a fine powder. Allen held the golden pen, slowly outlining golden contours on the canvas. He cherished the pen more than a bird cherishes its feathers. If he hadn't wanted to experience firsthand what it felt like for an angel to paint, he might never have touched it with paint in his entire life.
The moment the brush touched the paper, he suddenly widened his eyes, staring at a certain spot on the canvas, his face filled with astonishment.
It was originally just an ordinary landscape painting, at least that's what Allen thought. Compared to the 'angel's' painting, it wasn't a masterpiece in terms of realism or detail, but he had tried his best to realistically recreate the scenery before him.
The only difference was that he had added a golden flower where the angel had stood.
That rock had neither soil to take root in nor water to nourish it, and such golden plants were rare in nature.
It just grew out of the ordinary! Meow Meow said.
Only then did he realize what an extraordinary treasure he had obtained.
It was a magical brush, capable of bringing to life what it depicted, whether it was real or invisible.
The demons launched their fourth attack, this time numbering in the thousands.
But it doesn't matter. No matter how many times, no matter how many demons come, it's useless.
He took out the golden pen from his pocket, and with a gentle flick, a surge of power expanded from the tip. He was certain that no attack could breach his defenses.
"So it's a pen."
A sigh like that of hell echoed in Allen's ears. He stared in disbelief at his pierced chest.
(You provide the author Danmu's [Hebrew Mythology]: A Difficult Journey to World Formation)