"Think?! I'll buy them all! In fact, I'll pay for them right now!" Lady Farren said.
Michael smiled at her enthusiasm. As expected, he found a possible business venture that could net him millions of Sand Dollars in a single month!
"Are you sure? I'm fine with you paying after you receive the Darkwood."
"You're a trustworthy guy right, Michael?"
"Yes, I am," he said, bumping his chest in pride. "Oh, and it's Keo."
How could she forget that he had a secret identity to uphold?
Lady Farren walked through the ancient, sundry Elven items displayed in this storage room. Her hands caressed the glass enclosure of a long, rectangular vitrine containing a row of primeval bows that still looked powerful despite the obvious signs of aging in their frames.
"You don't know how much help you'll give us with your contribution. With a steady supply of Darkwood, we can finally arm ourselves with powerfully sufficient and consummate bows."
Darkwood was a dilemma for Elves. They were simultaneously a culturally significant antique that must be protected, and also a powerful weapon equivalent to a modern firearm in their arsenal.
If they used it to empower themselves, it could inevitably be lost or stolen. But if they kept it in a vault for safekeeping, then they'd be wasting its game-changing potential.
Lady Farren had to strike a perfect balance. That was why she first decided to fill this cabinet with Darkwood before she considered using some of it to arm her guards.
By her estimate, it would take her close to half a year, or even double that if their luck was bad.
But with Michael's ingenious farming method, they don't have to wait that long. They just needed a few more weeks!
"The gods have not forsaken us!" Lady Farren praised the ground, showing obeisance to the giant acacia for this miracle. She prostrated and kissed the ground, mumbling prayers and thanks under her breath.
This might have seemed excessive, but from her perspective, it was only natural. This was nothing less than a tangible gift from the gods!
It wasn't just because Michael could give them eight Darkwood by the end of the month, but that he could do that in perpetuity!
Given enough time, he'd be able to solve the Darkwood scarcity for all Elves!
"I will forever be in your debt," she said. "You can treat me as your adherent. All the Elves under me will treat you with the utmost respect."
And just like that, Michael had another Beastfolk alliance under his banner.
It was the easiest decision in Lady Farren's life. The Reborn company didn't just have the only verifiable Darkwood farm in existence, but they also brought forth the Chosen One from a myth to a tangible status. Sheina's existence was still unacknowledged by most Elves, but that would quickly change once they met the bow-slinging Dragonborn.
"Wow, really?"
"This was already set in stone the moment you bequeathed this magnificent weapon to me," Lady Farren said as she stood in front of a display cabinet in the middle of the room.
This vitrine only showcased one item: the Compound Bow.
Its lustrous, mechanical nature was incongruous to the rest of the bows on display. It was pristine.
"I spend most of my nights here just to gaze at its magnificence," she said, stroking the glass case of the anachronistic compound bow.
"Why don't you use it? You can't just let this beast decay in a vault."
She chuckled. "We know. But its user is quite an obstinate brat. You'd know; you met her."
"Lyra?" he asked, surprised. "How did that happen?"
"You see, we Elves believe that a bow has a soul of their own. Just like a living being, it has its own rights and opinions, including choosing its own bearer.
Because of the bow's significance, I wanted to choose a suitable Elf to become its wielder. Stalwart, courageous, intrepid, all the characteristics of a perfect soldier.
But on the day of choosing, the Compound Bow got lost. Lyra stole it.
Of course, I was mad at first. But wouldn't you know it, the bow chose her. It refused to be drawn by any other Elf."
Michael raised his eyebrows. "Really?"
This was weird because he made that bow. He knew its ins and outs. He didn't install a verification system that locked everyone out except a single user.
But Lady Farren nodded and verified it.
Does it really have a soul of its own, he wondered.
The other Mithril Weapons certainly didn't have that supernatural trait. It was only this specific Compound Bow.
Could it be the Darkwood?
Perhaps the combination of both mythical materials brought about a nascent form of sentience within the weapon itself.
But if this is true, then this should mean that Sheina's bow also has a 'sentience' of its own.
He wanted to test this out, but immediately rejected the idea. Everyone knew how the White Ghost of Reborn would react upon anyone trying to take her beloved weapon. She wouldn't even let the Dwarves do maintenance on it.
"Well, at least the bow chose her, right?"
"Yeah, it would have been good…if she used it. After that, she hated touching the weapon again. I don't even know why she stole it in the first place if she didn't want to use it," Lady Farren complained exasperatedly.
The obstinate girl was quite a rambunctious and complicated little brat.
"Tsk… she should be using it more. Or else the curse could—"
Lady Farren quickly stopped herself once she realized she muttered her complaint out loud.
But Michael already heard it.
"Curse?"
She nodded. "Yes. Truth be told, Lyra had quite a difficult childhood. She lost her parents early on due to an unexpected assault by the zephyrs, turning her into an orphan before she could even draw a bow.
And as if fate couldn't have made it harder on her, just when she was about to be adopted by another family, she exhibited signs of having a Cursed Dao Heart."