Fighting one's own father over a woman... didn't really seem so strange after all.
Whether before or after his transmigration, such occurrences were hardly rare. Men squandering their family fortunes and ruining their households over a woman; women turning against their parents over a man, feeling a stranger buying them a single steamed bun outweighed over a decade of parental devotion and upbringing... Examples of this sort were too numerous to count.
The two dragons clashed fiercely in the sky. Yet it was evident that the silver dragon was holding back, not daring to strike with real force using fangs or claws, whereas the green dragon showed no mercy at all, mauling the silver dragon until it was covered in wounds.
Before long, the silver dragon plummeted, crashing heavily before the castle. Its battered, blood-drenched body had suffered catastrophic damage; dragon blood spurted wildly as if it cost nothing, and through its torn-open belly, one could even glimpse entrails and a beating heart.
A druid's Wild Shape was a complete transformation, virtually indistinguishable from an actual dragon.
Yet before the silver dragon could truly experience the agony of disembowelment, the massive dragon body burst like mud, splattering in every direction.
Brandir Sanda rose from the sprawling sludge, looking entirely unharmed.
This was the formidable advantage of a druid: shapeshifting essentially granted a second life. No matter how severe the injuries, once the transformation was dispelled, nothing remained of the damage.
A powerful druid could repeatedly transform to absorb fatal blows.
Flapping its wings in the air, the green dragon roared down at Brandir Sanda, "Brandir, are you sober now?!"
Brandir sighed. "Father, I know you are furious, but I have made my choice, and I will not regret it."
"Idiot! How did I raise a son like you?!"
The green dragon roared and swung its tail toward Brandir, but Brandir was no longer willing to take a beating without fighting back.
A brilliant green radiance flared from Brandir. Innumerable thick vines sprouted from the air, binding the massive green dragon tightly.
The green dragon roared and thrashed, yet could not break free in the slightest.
The green dragon swiftly resumed humanoid form. An elderly druid stood bound amid the vines, but reverting to humanoid form meant reclaiming his spellcasting ability. The vines twisted and warped under the old father's hands, quickly shaping into warriors woven of briars and vines that lunged toward Brandir.
Brandir sighed and reached out, conjuring a long staff crafted of oak.
Golden radiance condensed upon the staff, shattering the vine warriors to pieces in single strikes.
This was Shillelagh, a cantrip every druid could learn, capable of enchanting a wooden staff for a short time to bolster its power. Being classified as a cantrip meant its base effect was quite modest.
Yet in Brandir's hands, the staff hit like an artifact.
Whether vine warriors, treants over two meters tall, jungle sprites, or elemental creatures, none could withstand a single blow from Brandir's staff. It seemed even more devastating than Divine Smite.
Still, Brandir exercised restraint, striking only the creatures summoned by his elderly father without laying a finger on the old man himself.
Watching this, Anbaixiu felt a grudging admiration. This lovesick fool might be simple-minded, but he was undeniably formidable.
His father could transform into a dragon, which meant he was likely a legend as well, yet even in a state of fury he was easily suppressed by Brandir. It went to show just how extraordinary this young druid was.
Brandir smashed all of his father's summoned creatures and said, "Father, the truth is, I could easily defeat you ten years ago. I was holding back just now."
Anbaixiu was left speechless. Did this fool really dare say that? Wasn't he just asking for it?
Sure enough, upon hearing those words, Brandir's father's eyes turned bloodshot. He shifted forms once more, turning into a giant bear and swiping a paw the size of a cooking pot at his unfilial son.
Brandir dared not harm his father, only continuously summoning vines to deflect the giant bear's heavy slaps.
Either Brandir's mana would run dry first, or his father would exhaust himself to total immobility.
Anbaixiu was originally quite happy to sit back and watch the spectacle. Druids brawling was uncommon, and a duel between two legendary druids was rarer still.
Catherine, however, could watch no longer. She said to Anbaixiu, "Think of something, quickly!"
"Think of what? Do you think they aren't hitting hard enough to kill, and want me to fan the flames?" Anbaixiu asked in bewilderment.
"Of course not! I'm telling you to find a way to make them stop! Two druids came to blows because of me. If word gets out, it will tarnish the reputation of our elven race and damage cooperation between the Silvermoon High Court and the Emerald Dream Forest."
Catherine was no longer a naive innocent ignorant of worldly affairs; she had begun to weigh political repercussions.
Catherine said to Anbaixiu, "You were the one who asked me to come to the Emerald Dream Forest to help you. You have to resolve this for me."
"Fine, you have a point. But the crux of this conflict is you. You're the one who made that druid lose his mind. No one can resolve this except you," Anbaixiu said.
Catherine said in some fluster, "I don't know what to do! I've already rejected him. I can hardly kill him, can I?"
"Wouldn't marrying him solve it? The druid isn't so bad," Anbaixiu said.
Catherine said flatly, "Out of the question. I don't like childish men like him. Besides, he isn't even an elf."
When Brandir first professed his love, Catherine had turned him down without hesitation.
Although this druid possessed status, standing, and immense strength, he behaved like a spoiled child, and Catherine had virtually no fondness for him. Brandir's reckless declarations had put her in an awkward spot, annoying her to no end.
Moreover, the vast majority of high elves harbored a racial purism, willing to bond only with their own kind. Otherwise, given elven looks, the number of half-elves on the continent would have been tenfold higher.
Anbaixiu said helplessly, "So decisive, then. In that case, let's take a different approach and make him give up for good."
"What should we do?" Catherine asked curiously. "I rejected him very seriously before, but he refused to listen."
"That's because your method was wrong. Leave it to me." As Anbaixiu said this, his voice had already morphed to match Catherine's identically.
The Lady of the Mists' illusion magic was truly divine craft; it didn't just produce visual phantasms, but reproduced every other detail with absolute precision.
Anbaixiu explained, "In a moment, stand on the terrace and do nothing. Just let me speak."
Regrettably, Catherine's charm was a special innate ability. Anbaixiu could mimic her appearance with illusions, but had no way to emulate her absurd charisma, so he could only have her stand out front to play the part.
"I'll leave it to you, then."
Hearing Anbaixiu's words, Catherine felt an immediate surge of relief. Deceitful though the lich was, there didn't seem to be a single promise he had failed to deliver on.
Catherine stepped outside the castle and appeared on the terrace.
Concealing his form, Anbaixiu stood right behind Catherine. To ensure that the voice appeared to originate from the proper location without discrepancy, Anbaixiu pressed almost flush against her back.
This lass had quite a perky backside, making it rather awkward for Anbaixiu to press any closer.
Catherine had no idea what Anbaixiu was thinking. She looked nervously toward the two druids locked in fierce combat. Her delicate lips parted slightly, and Anbaixiu spoke on her behalf.
"Will you two please cease? I have had quite enough of this welcoming performance put on by the Emerald Dream Forest."
The words were laced with heavy sarcasm, causing Catherine's expression to change. Wouldn't speaking like that cause offense? Did this lich truly have no fear of causing a rift between the Silvermoon High Court and the Emerald Dream Forest?!
Uncomfortable as she felt, the ruse had already begun, and Catherine could only keep playing along.
The moment those words were spoken, the two combatants stopped fighting.
Brandir halted immediately, his cheeks swelling from two heavy bear-swipes delivered by his father. Having struck his son twice, the father also reverted to humanoid form and said to Catherine, "Your Majesty Catherine, it was my son who acted with utter discourtesy. I shall take him back at once and discipline him properly."
Both were guests, yet the druids treated Catherine with far more respect than Anbaixiu.
Such was the gap in national standing. Catherine was not merely a guest; she was the Queen of the Elves.
Though Brandir's face was swollen from the blows, he paid his father's words no mind at all. Dropping to one knee before Catherine, he proclaimed loudly, "Catherine, nothing in this world can deter my love for you! Whether my father approves or not, I will devote everything to you!"
Catherine frowned. Here he went again. It was precisely this shameless, brazen persistence that left her entirely helpless.
This time, however, it was Anbaixiu handling him.
"Brandir, I had no desire to waste words on a matter I have already firmly rejected. But it seems my courtesy and politeness have led to misunderstanding, prompting you to test my boundaries time and again. You should know very well that as the Elven Queen, my marriage concerns the very future of the Silvermoon High Court. As a member of the Emerald Dream Forest Council, do you intend to represent the Emerald Dream Forest in interfering in the internal affairs of the Silvermoon High Court?"
Brandir opened his mouth, struck dumb. How had this suddenly turned so grave?
Brandir's father grew even more tense. He had never expected the Elven Queen to speak with such cold severity. During their earlier interactions, she had seemed quite approachable. Why had she suddenly played the political card?
Anbaixiu continued speaking for Catherine: "You do not think I am joking, do you? I visit the Emerald Dream Forest in my capacity as the Queen of the Elves. Every word and deed of mine represents the entire elven race, and you ought to understand that. Brandir, are you truly unaware? For a high elf to unite with an outsider is an insult to all elves! Your so-called declaration of love is nothing short of a provocation toward the entire elven people!"
Such words sounded blatantly discriminatory, but it depended on who uttered them. Coming from a high elf, it sounded more like stating a plain fact.
When it came to appearance, demeanor, intellect, longevity, and many other qualities, the average high elf stood undeniably above other races. Even the Ryan people had to concede that, aside from their difficulties with reproduction, elves were superior to humans in virtually every aspect.
Catherine had never previously resorted to racial prejudice to turn someone down because she was too kind-hearted and wished to avoid hurting anyone's pride.
Yet when Anbaixiu raised this justification, Brandir had no choice but to acknowledge it.
Even as the youngest legendary druid, aspiring to marry Catherine remained an egregious reach above his station.
"I had hoped not to let such a minor matter disrupt relations between our two realms, but perhaps I did not make myself clear before. Brandir, let me tell you plainly now: I will never accept your affections. If you continue to harass me, I shall regard it as a provocation against the Silvermoon High Court. The next time I set foot in the Emerald Dream Forest, I will bring the full force of the Twilight Guard to ensure you understand that the dignity of the elven race shall not be trampled upon."
Chapter 201