Oil and Rubber
Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Elves! A character that is always present in the fantasy world!
Wait, wait, wait!
Paul suddenly thought of something important.
He wondered what kind of style the elves in this world had.
If they were like those in Elder Scrolls, wouldn't that be unappetizing?
"Um… what do the elves look like? You've seen them in person, right?"
Naylor noticed that the lord's eyes suddenly sparkled with curiosity.
He enthusiastically said, "My lord, each of them possesses a nearly perfect beauty in the eyes of humans, with well-proportioned figures and long limbs. Their skin is as white and smooth as the porcelain you make."
As he spoke, a look of intoxication appeared on his face, filled with memories.
The other two captains chuckled, and even the young Alan had a flush on his face.
Paul immediately realized that these guys might have had special encounters with the elves in some particular place.
Just think about a group of sailors who had been adrift at sea for several months—what would be the first thing they did upon reaching shore?
Most would choose to indulge in pleasures; the sea is fickle, and they must cherish every safe return to land.
"Ahem!" Paul adopted a serious expression. "Gentlemen, I thank you for choosing to abandon those beautiful foreign beauties to return to my side."
Naylor realized he had been a bit unrestrained and smiled sheepishly.
He continued, "Because of their beauty, the elves are often attacked by slave raiders from across the isthmus, and many have ended up enslaved in the northern human kingdoms."
Paul asked, "Are the elves physically weak?"
Naylor nodded, "Well, their metal smelting and forging techniques are not very developed, and it seems there are very few metal ores in their forests. However…"
He paused for a moment, "The elves have a secret weapon—a terrible fuel that, once ignited, will never extinguish, not even by water. The humans there are very wary of this terrifying weapon."
"But the elves are overly protective of their forests, so this fire-starting weapon is not often used. Overall, they are much weaker than their northern human neighbors."
Greek fire? As Naylor finished describing this fuel, the term popped into Paul's mind.
It cannot be extinguished even by water—doesn't that fit this characteristic perfectly?
If it truly is Greek fire, Paul felt a surge of excitement. Based on what was restored by later generations, Greek fire seems to contain oil, which is regarded as the lifeblood of industrial civilization.
"Oh, right, Lord Grayman."
Naylor reached into his coat pocket and fumbled for something. A few seconds later, he pulled out an object.
"We also found a strange substance from the elves. I think our local naturalists would be interested in it."
Paul took the object from his hand. It was a soft, light yellow, gel-like substance that changed shape as he held it, easily squished and molded.
Naylor chuckled, "It's quite relieving to squeeze this when you have nothing to do."
At that moment, he noticed the change in Paul's expression, a mix of excitement, joy, and impatience.
Rubber! The object Naylor brought back was natural rubber! Or rather, unvulcanized latex!
"Lord Grayman, Lord Grayman."
"Ah?"
Lost in excitement, Paul took several moments to respond after being called by Naylor and the others.
Naylor breathed a sigh of relief but didn't understand why the lord was so captivated by this light yellow gel.
"Naylor!"
Paul suddenly commanded, startling the exploration team leader.
"Yes, Lord Grayman!"
"You and your crew eat well, drink well, rest well—get yourselves in great shape! Once your repairs are complete, I need you to set off again!"
"Yes, Lord Grayman!"
"This time, head straight for the land of the elves. I require you to establish contact with them, and ideally, gain their friendship."
"Yes, Lord Grayman!"
Paul's heart raced with excitement—oil and rubber! Oh, elves, do you not realize you are sitting on a treasure mountain?
...
In the spring of the year 1995 of the Holy Calendar, a piece of news quickly spread throughout the Aldor Kingdom.
King Rodney XVII had passed away, and his nephew, Gerd Rodney, ascended the throne. Of course, he should now be referred to as His Majesty Rodney XVIII.
The old king's death was not surprising; after all, his frail health in his later years was well-known.
What surprised people was his successor. Many speculated that his daughter, Catherine, would ascend the throne, becoming the first female king in Aldor history. More believed that the king would follow tradition and allow his brother, Jasim, to take the throne.
However, no one guessed that the true successor would be his nephew, Gerd, who was not even the first in line to the throne.
The new king stirred discussions among various factions within the Aldor Kingdom.
In the castle of the greedy wolf duke, Giles held a banquet, inviting many of his vassals.
"Hahaha! This is the Lord of Light helping me!"
Giles raised his wine cup, excitement evident on his face.
"I really don't know what our king was thinking, passing the throne to such a young man. Catherine has the support of the army and is capable in battle; Jasim is crafty and well-regarded among the nobles—both of them are a concern for me. As for Gerd, hahaha, I don't mean to underestimate him; he's merely a steward managing the royal family's affairs!"
The duke's chest surged with immense ambition.
He saw the sparkling crown beckoning to him—it was time to march north again.
He announced his plans to his vassals.
"This time, we will surely reach the Crystal Crown!"
"I have confidence; Duke Giles leads us to victory!"
The vassals were equally passionate, expressing their loyalty and confidence.
"Duke Giles, should we wait a bit?"
Unlike most, his favorite, Samar, suggested.
"Oh? Why?"
Samar explained:
"Jasim is Gerd's father; he may not act. But what about Catherine? Would she clash with her cousin?
If they can fight, it would be a spectacle.
It would be best if they ended up hurting each other; then we can rise again and sweep through easily.
Like pushing down a broken house.
The duke thought maliciously.
It was time to let the spies planted in the Crystal Crown move around.
(End of the Chapter)
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