When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 694: Chapter 83 The Lies of Reynard Fox Chapter 694: Chapter 83 The Lies of Reynard Fox When Aiwass descended back to the first Ring with Lily and Sherlock, dusk was nearly upon them.

Although Aiwass had caused quite a commotion here just a few hours ago, by the time he returned dressed as the Archbishop, the turmoil had already subsided.

Very few people recognized that the frighteningly young Archbishop was the same young man from before.

The main reason was face blindness.

There were already not many people in the Holy Nation.

Even among humans, not all were from the imperial lineage.

Although today Avalonians, Iris Flowers, and Star Antimony each speak their own languages and have their different customs, if placed five hundred years ago, they were all one family, essentially Heracel people.

But humans from other places had a bit of face blindness when they looked at Aiwass — not to mention the other races.

The group moved from the serene higher Rings back to the bustling first Ring.

Looking at the bustling crowd, Sherlock couldn’t help but sigh, “If you only look at the first Ring, who could tell that this place belongs to the Elves of the Eternal Theocracy?”

Upon hearing this, Lily also raised her head and looked around.

The street was crammed with humans, goblins, lizardfolk, trolls…

a diverse range of species densely packed the entire street.

The roads that had been fairly open at noon were now so crowded that they were impenetrable by evening.

As a true local from Lohar District in Avalon, she thought of a very fitting analogy—

The density of the crowd was likely very conducive to pickpockets working in depth.

If this were Avalon, there would certainly be pickpockets mingling within them now.

A strange concern suddenly emerged in her heart, “If things continue this way, will there come a day when…

Elves are no longer the majority in the Holy Nation?”

“Very likely — or rather, it’s almost the case already.”

Aiwass replied from beside them, “After all, Elves have a low birth rate.”

Sherlock asked, “Physiological level, or psychological level?”

“Psychological.

Elves generally have poor adaptability to the Path of Love, directly leading to insufficient desire between the sexes.

And when both parties are indifferent, being together can even influence each other.

Many couples may not share a bed for decades, many more maintain their relationship at a spiritually pure romantic level…

They’re more like friends or roommates than spouses.”

“Elves have only fully opened up for a few centuries, and now they account for only half of the Holy Nation’s population — although the activities of the short-lived species are mostly confined to the lower five Rings.

Nowadays, the number of Half-Elves is almost a third of the main Elf population and also roughly a third of the active short-lived species within the Holy Nation.

And that’s considering that the Elves willing to marry the short-lived species are few in number, despite just a few hundred years passing.”

“…If that’s the case,” Sherlock glanced at the number of people in the crowd, “the population of the Elves might be close to that of Glass Island.

Even if it’s more, it’s only by a small margin.”

“I even suspect it might be less than the population of Glass Island.”

Aiwass smiled wryly.

Lily calculated in her mind, “If that’s the case…

perhaps in another hundred years, Elves may not even make up a third of the proportion.”

Aiwass shook his head.

The Elf population had been declining for many years.

Now the number of Elves aging to death, dying in battle abroad, perishing in accidents, turning to trees, or Amberficating was already far greater than the birth rate.

Meanwhile, immigrants from other countries kept pouring in.

“In fifty years, Elves might make up less than a third of the Holy Nation’s population.”

Sherlock figured it out effortlessly.

He felt a sense of wonder, “I really wonder what will happen then…”

“What else can happen?

The Elves are so much stronger than them; in the end, it’s still the Transcendents who have the final say in this world.”

Aiwass commented sarcastically, “Do you expect these immigrants to set up a Thanksgiving for the Elves or something?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Aiwass shook his head, guiding them onto the giant roundabout and moving to a specific scale — if the north was marked as 12 o’clock, this place was roughly at the 2 o’clock position.

The spot they had been before was just next door, in the 3 o’clock direction, not far at all.@@novelbin@@

Elves considered east as beauty, facing the sunrise was indeed the best location.

Even though it was Aiwass’s first time in the Holy Nation, he moved around as if he were familiar with it.

He even showed a nostalgic expression, pointing out some landmarks to them and explaining their origins as if he were a local.

Sherlock became more convinced of his own guess — Aiwass must have experienced some events of this era intermittently, either in dreams or somewhere else!

That’s why he knew certain things he shouldn’t know, had seen things he shouldn’t have seen.

Lily, however, didn’t understand.

She marveled at Aiwass’s familiarity, “How does the young master know the terrain here so well…

Did you read a map before?”

“It’s nothing.”

Aiwass was nonchalant, “If you’ve played Ubisoft’s games, you can easily get familiar with the local terrain even when traveling.

I just know a few landmark buildings.”

“…What?”

“Um, nothing.

Actually, I’ve viewed the map before.”

Sherlock noticed that Aiwass had been mentioning things that no one could understand more frequently these past two days.

If before Aiwass was intentionally concealing his intelligence sources, these two days he had started to gradually drop the act.

Was he… feeling lonely?

Sherlock quietly observed Aiwass, a fiery blue igniting in his eyes before slowly fading away.

He felt that his understanding of Aiwass’s true nature was deepening.

—Because he couldn’t return to his own era and now was forced to separate from Isabel, he would want to say things others couldn’t understand to maintain his independence.

To not forget those memories, yet unable to truly reminisce, he could only nostalgically yearn in vain.

Just like after breaking up with an ex-girlfriend, drunkenly rambling on and on about her to friends… claiming to have moved on.

But repeating that you have moved on is essentially not being able to let go.

Sherlock had a high school classmate who was that type of person, now doing business in the Holy Nation.

He could tell that Aiwass definitely hadn’t really been here before.

On the main road, Aiwass was quite decisive in finding his way.

But once he turned into the back alleys, his movements became clearly hesitant.

Aiwass would try to find landmarks, then spend a long time thinking.

—Sherlock had that kind of experience.

Once during an investigation, he had to analyze the background of a painting to infer which city the artist was in and where they lived.

Aiwass seemed to deduce the location of a certain shop through the relative relationships between buildings.

But in the end, Aiwass succeeded in one try.

Without making any mistake, he arrived in front of a particular building.

It was a residence in an alleyway.

It was the typical kind, a storefront converted from a residence.

Outside the residence hung a sign that read “The Lies of Reynard Fox.” But from the sign alone, it was entirely unclear what it sold.

Aiwass rang the bell at the doorstep, then pushed the door open and entered.

Upon entering, Sherlock looked up, his keen eyes sweeping across the surroundings.

—It looked like a bookstore, yet also like a café.

This thought emerged in his mind.

Because the place was filled with bookshelves, and in each bookshelf, books were crammed in abundance.

There were four round tables, each able to seat four or five people.

The aroma of coffee echoed in the air, with a little girl around seven or eight years old standing on a stool, silently grinding coffee.

The young proprietor looked like an elf, with light golden hair and clear amber pupils.

In the space of about twenty or thirty square meters, there were no other customers.

“A respected Archbishop.”

Seeing Aiwass, the girl showed no panic.

She respectfully bowed to Aiwass, her youthful yet clear voice speaking, “May the Candle Master protect your light.”

“May the Candle Master also protect you, Miss Hebashia.”

Aiwass returned the bow to the girl.

At his words, the girl raised her eyebrows slightly, a hint of surprise in her voice, “May I ask, who referred you here…?”

“Grey told me about it.”

Aiwass answered.

“Which Grey?”

The girl, named Hebashia, asked cautiously.

“Naturally, the Pure White Saintess,” Aiwass replied kindly, “She said that you have some Codex Books here.”

“Ah, that child…”

Hebashia shook her head and hopped down from the stool with an air of resignation, “Please take a seat, everyone.

Would you like sugar in your coffee?”

“Two creams, one sugar.”

Aiwass said with a smile, “Thank you for the trouble, madam.”

This lady was an Angel Envoy under the Geometric Celestial Marshal of the Path of Wisdom, now in a reincarnated state just like Vivian.

Of course, her secret wouldn’t have been told to him by Pure White—this was a side quest in the game.

When Pure White encountered trouble, she would tell the players about this place, asking them to find Hebashia to help her.

From then on, this place became a base for the players.

Overspending a little on the relationship was not too big of a problem.

After all, Aiwass was going to help Pure White too, it was just a matter of doing so sooner or later.