Chapter 415

PLEASE READ AGAIN CHAPTER 414, SINCE I MADE A MISTAKE WHEN PUBLISHING, I HAD SKIPPED A CHAPTER, SORRY, DON'T FORGET TO SUPPORT THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.

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Vargas could have been happier about this. Being surrounded by elves was not how he planned on spending this stage of his career. 'I was supposed to be taking the exam for a leadership role this year. But no, what do I end up doing? Chasing down black market slavers and getting surrounded by these… 'these'. All day long.' He exhaled heavily, at least the volunteers worked hard.

That was a very strange thing to see, in the past, he'd never heard the elves described as anything but lazy. Slaves had to be constantly watched in order to make sure they were doing work instead of lying around eating up their master's food or licking a boot to gain a few treats for themselves.

Yet as the arrangements were made to lay in supplies for their journey at the various stopovers on the way to Wheaton, including the roundabout route just in case they encountered the elven insurrection that was rampaging along the mountains, he noticed that if anything, these outperformed humans.

They seemed to be positively tireless.

Such was the oddity of it that when Aola returned to him the following day and reported, "Liberator, order confirmation has been received by three outposts on path to Wheaton. They confirm that they will route orders further on their own and send confirmation on completion. Your staff is ready to depart at any time, but I suggest a two day delay to allow them to receive and sort supplies." Vargas did not immediately confirm he understood her.

"Liberator?" She asked, when he said nothing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked down at his desk, exhaling hard he said, "Just… no, just call me Vargas. I hate nicknames." Though he kept silent about his thought, 'Particularly that one.'

"Of course but… is there something on your mind, Vargas? You seem distracted." She came closer, that too was an oddity, in his experience, other than prostitutes or those aiming to become such, elves remained as far from humans as they could. At the very least, out of whip range.

"Nothing. It's just…" He scratched his head, "You all don't act like elves."

She cocked her head. "I don't understand?"

"Elves are lazy, you have to thrash them to get them to do any work and watch them all the time and they're always looking to do as little as possible. But you all are working… very differently." Vargas said, and Aola approached and crouched down so that she was beneath his gaze.

"Lib- Vargas," Aola began, "do you see terror on my face?" She asked.

"No." He answered, that was an easy thing to answer, he knew terror very well, and there was no way she could have hidden it.

"When I offered to lie with you… because I had nothing else to offer to say thank you for what you've done for us… and because you will be remembered by us all as a hero for ages to come… did you detect any hesitation?" She took the hand that was on his lap and put it to her face. "Am I flinching, do I find your rough fingers repugnant?"

"I- no but- I don't understand." Vargas shifted on his seat and pulled his hand away.

"It's because it pleases me to offer, and to do those things. Now imagine that was not so. Suppose you were a monster in my eyes, and I knew your touch could only be hateful and full of malice and pain for myself. Do you think I would be hiding then?" She asked.

"I… suppose, yes." He gave a reluctant nod, a sour expression crossed his face, while it was no secret that some kept elven body slaves, and the temples did nothing to prohibit the practice, for himself it was at best, repulsive, and at worst, a vague unease hung over him that he could not quite explain.

"Because you would be my enemy then. On the many farms, workhouses, and mines where we survive, our tools are as much our enemies as our masters and our overseers. We hate our work because we hate who we do it for, we have no reason to take pride in it, no desire to enrich the whip bearers… why would it be a surprise if we avoided doing any work whatsoever if we could? Or do only just enough to avoid being punished, if we can't avoid it entirely?"

Put that way, it sort of made sense.

"So… you're not lazy, you're rebellious." He suggested, and she gave a polite inclining of her head.

"You might say that. It isn't much, barely even noticed, but it was what we could do. We had no reason to care for anything before, it wasn't ours. But you're assisting with our cause, so of course we're not going to be lazy for you." She chuckled, "I daresay that if anyone tried to be, the rest of them would beat the layabout black and blue for it."

"I understand… and… you can stand up now. If someone enters and finds you like this…" He scooched his chair back a little, and Aola rose to her feet.

"A true gentleman, I would expect nothing less of our liberator." She gave an affirming nod as if settling something in her own mind, "What do you say to our departure, Vargas?"

"We'll wait the two days, as you suggest. But arrange for horses for my… entourage." He added.

"As you say, also, I took the liberty of arranging for medical supplies to be ready for us on the final leg. We will definitely need them." She said, and her face turned faintly green.

"Was there a report of bandit activity near Wheaton?" He asked, "If so we should arrange for a militia to go clear the way."

"No… it's for when you go into Wheaton." She had more control over herself now than last time it was brought up, but her mention of medical supplies being needed, reminded him of her tall tales of the brutality there. He had no illusion that it was a pleasant experience, but the stories were just that, stories, not to be taken seriously.

Still, there was no reason to argue the matter, and one never knew when medical supplies would come in handy.

"If that's everything, then I suppose we have the next two days off." He really couldn't think of anything to do, Aola was a first rate assistant, able to read, write, and count, he barely had to attend to a thing the entire time. 'Perhaps she wasn't exaggerating about their weaponized laziness… if elves all worked this hard we'd be the most powerful country in the world.' He thought privately as he wrapped up the last of his paperwork.

Put the way she had, it explained many things. He'd foraged on enemy supplies before, thinking about it in her terms, a slave stealing from their master was doing the exact same thing.

Now though, the pressing question was… what to do with the freshly found free time?