Chapter 10 - FRIH: Chapter 10
"Mr. Ronan, you needn't worry," the elder began, his voice calm. "I sent a messenger to the Sword Village two hours ago. They should return within a week. Experts will verify the sword and instruct you on its use." He paused, frowning slightly. "I've seen the Hero's Sword, centuries ago. My memory might be faulty. The Sword Village experts are the true authorities. Until they arrive, consider this village your haven."
The elder's sincerity was clear; elves weren't equipped to directly handle Hero matters. But the Sword Village's arrival would change things. Even if the sword proved inauthentic, the elder had a plan. Ronan, being human, couldn't stay in the elven village indefinitely. Elven life, with its centuries-long perspective, would be stifling to a human. Unless, of course, he was exceptionally long-lived, a possibility the elder dismissed.
Ronan, oblivious to this strategy, saw genuine concern. He nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you," he said. "I overheard about your food shortage. I feel uncomfortable accepting hospitality without contributing. Perhaps I could help."
The elder hesitated, his usual serenity faltering. Silence hung heavy before he finally spoke, his voice low and measured.
"It began five years ago," he said, gazing towards the horizon. "The Demon Lord's army disrupted trade routes, impacting many kingdoms. While we elves appreciate agriculture, our resources are limited. Our harvests are impacted by seed scarcity, natural disasters, and conflict. Our population, however, remains static. This has led to dwindling food supplies."
He paused, weariness in his voice. "We now buy provisions from nearby human settlements. But they also face shortages, driving prices up. Elves, valuing art and magic, have historically placed little value on material wealth. We've lived for millennia with a casual approach to resource management, a mindset ill-suited to modern commerce."
He sighed. "Human kingdoms rise and fall, their currencies fluctuating. The monetary assets we possess that retain value are few. Manual labor is foreign to our culture. Yet, the food shortage remains."
He whispered, "I proposed cultivating the surrounding forests, a project taking decades. That timeframe might seem impossible to a human, but it's a fleeting moment for an elf."
Ronan listened, understanding the stark contrast between elven and human perspectives. What seemed insurmountable to the elves was, to him, solvable. The absurdity hit him: if this continued, the elves would starve within centuries.
He exhaled slowly. "If the problem is food," he said, calm and resolute, "it's easily solved. Food is wealth, wealth is money, and I have a considerable amount. If you permit me, I will help you acquire the necessary provisions."
He wouldn't just hand over gold. Past experiences taught him that freely given gifts are undervalued. This wasn't a game; there were no reloads. Earned respect held more value than bestowed gifts. And he wanted to explore beyond the forest. The idea of finding antiques in human towns, selling them, and returning with food supplies, seemed feasible. It would solve the village's crisis and let him experience the world beyond the forest.
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