Chapter Fifty-Seven: Born Troublemaker

After dawn, the gathered mages dispersed to rest. Yet the chaos in Florence did not abate; it only grew fiercer. Amidst this turmoil, the new king deployed even greater force for suppression, and many night elves found themselves imprisoned.

In the afternoon, a young night elf, clutching his bleeding arm, dashed into an alley.

“Damn those guards, the new king’s lapdogs!”

He waited, gritting his teeth for his wound to heal, when he noticed a figure in black beckoning him.

“Brother, were you wounded by the guards as well?”

“Yes!”

“Would you like to join our group? We’ve just formed a resistance organization,” the figure in black asked.

“Resistance organization?” The young elf eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of group are you, and why the getup?”

“Of course we’re against the new king, idiot. Don’t you know the power of the Twin Moons Wheel? If the new king learns our names, he can kill us. We have to hide our identities!” The black-clad figure sliced his arm with a dagger. “Look, this is how we prove ourselves.”

The youth watched as the wound on the man’s arm healed instantly.

“So that’s it, a clever method.” He nodded. He’d heard about last night’s commotion—where a hero had cut his arm to prove he wasn’t a forest elf. Clearly, this group was imitating that hero.

He decided to follow the black-clad stranger.

They arrived at a sewer entrance. The stranger handed him a black robe, and together they descended.

Along the way, the youth saw many others in black, gathered in the sewers, armed and clearly incensed by the new king’s tyranny.

“We must rescue the queen!”

“For our great hero! We’ll resist to the end!”

In the tunnels, some were rallying the crowd.

“Kill the new king!”

“That brute dared defile our beautiful queen! We must kill him!”

The youth even heard some familiar voices—famous aristocrats, perhaps? Surely it was an illusion; how could they be here?

The stranger led him to a spacious underground plaza.

“The boss will be here soon. We wait for him here.”

“What’s the boss?”

“He’s the founder of the organization. He calls himself ‘boss’, won’t let anyone know his real name.”

The youth nodded. This founder seemed reliable.

They waited half an hour. People gradually gathered, filling the plaza until it was packed, the tunnels outside crowded with more, all peering in—a sight that astonished the youth.

So many members in a single day, and among them many masters. This boss was truly remarkable!

He was still reeling from the scene when the noisy crowd suddenly fell silent. A figure in black strode through them, sword at his waist, a subordinate at his side. The youth craned his neck to see.

“Beloved night elves, thank you for coming!” The boss stood at the center and spoke—a resonant voice, amplified by magic so all could hear.

“Dear compatriots,

Today, I am honored to join you in this gathering, destined to become a milestone in night elf history—a struggle for light.

Five hundred years ago, our ancestors, for survival, signed a symbiotic pact with the Twin Moons Wheel. Its power was a lamp in our darkness, a hope for rebirth under its radiance.

Yet, five centuries later, the nation we built is one forced to hide in shadowy forests, despised by other races. Our wars never cease, and now we face destruction by the very monster we created. I ask you: why?”

The hall was silent. No one could answer.

The boss surveyed the crowd, pressing on.

“Is it because we are not strong enough?

Is it the curse of the Twin Moons Wheel?

No, it is not so! The forest elves were once weaker than us, but in war they have defeated us time and again. Why?

Dear compatriots, why have we been driven to this point?

What is the reason the forest elves fight and survive?

Let me tell you! Because they have not forgotten their purpose. Their rulers lead them toward the light!”

His voice rose.

“Regardless of race, exceptional rulers lead their people to greatness!

We possess the Twin Moons Wheel; we are strong enough! But every king thinks only of himself, treats us as slaves and playthings, never guiding us toward the right path!

We change kings again and again; if a good one appears, he is soon replaced by an ambitious villain!

The Twin Moons Wheel is always in the hands of the ambitious, never in the hands of a worthy king. Why do we allow this?

Because we are threatened by the Twin Moons Wheel, because we shrink away and dare not resist! We cannot choose a worthy king, and so our race stagnates!”

His words burned with fury. The night elves bowed their heads in shame; the truth was undeniable. They had no say in the Wheel’s owner—it was always a toy for the power-hungry.

“Tell me, why do you bow your heads?

Yes, we accept the Twin Moons Wheel’s gifts, and its curse. It was so in the past, it is so now, and may be so in the future.

We cannot change it! But—”

His voice soared with passion:

“Beloved compatriots, we may be cursed by the Twin Moons Wheel, but we must not be toyed with by the ambitious! We should have the right to choose its wielder!

The Twin Moons Wheel is not a plaything for the ambitious. It is our power, and should belong to one exalted enough to lead us forward, who will not abuse its strength!

Let me repeat: the Twin Moons Wheel is ours! Not the ambitious!”

The Twin Moons Wheel is the power of all night elves. If anyone seeks it, we should decide who holds it.

Should the ambitious possess the Wheel, it is a nightmare for us. We must overthrow them, whatever the cost, and never allow our power to be wielded by a tyrant!”

His words made the night elves lift their heads, feeling their blood boil.

“Dear compatriots, I say to you today: though we face hardships and setbacks, I still have a dream.

I dream that one day, this nation will stand tall, and no race will despise us for the Wheel.

I dream that one day, on the battlefield of the dark forest, night elves and forest elves will sit together, no longer slaughtering one another.

I dream that one day, our children will no longer march to war, but walk freely across the world.

For this dream, dear compatriots,

We must found an organization to ensure the Twin Moons Wheel is wielded by the right person, to bring clarity to the kingdom’s rule!

We face our most dangerous hour, but because it is so perilous, we will have the people’s support!

We will no longer accept rule by force. We will live in the sun, no longer slaves to ambitious men!

Come! Begin the resistance!

We have suffered for five hundred years! We will no longer bow and scrape!”

Suddenly, the figure in black drew his sword and raised it high.

“Fellow night elves, in this moment, we will found the Twin Moons Wheel Review Organization!

Let the beacon of resistance flare—our Twin Moons Wheel must be ours to decide the king!”

“Ooooooo!”

A thunderous cheer erupted. Fired up by the boss’s speech, the crowd was ready to lay down their lives for him.

“We decide the king!”

“Let us choose our king!”

The excited shouts echoed endlessly through the tunnels.

…

Eve and the stealthy leopard were utterly stunned, staring at the boss in disbelief.

Good heavens—this little prince is a born troublemaker! In just a few moves he’s founded a resistance in Florence!

Is there anything he can’t stir up? He’s utterly wild, beyond imagination.