Chapter 208: Conclusion

Chapter 208: The Ending

Kemi looked shocked. "He doesn’t want to get married?"

What kind of background did this otherworldly beauty have, to dare reject their Elven King of Pine Mountain?

The Forest Warden stared at the Elven King in disbelief. "So... he was the one who—"

Led you on, toyed with your heart, had his way, and then just walked away?

Kemi and Percy were not only boss and subordinate but also longtime colleagues. Seeing the bitter smile on his old friend’s face, Kemi sneered coldly. "Oh, so he thinks our elf clan is easy to bully? That Pine Mountain is some place he can come and go as he pleases?"

By now, the Elven King’s residence was right before them.

Furious, Kemi strode forward and pushed the door open before Percy could stop him, storming inside with great fury.

Elu was lounging on a rattan chair, sunbathing while absorbed in a book. Hearing the commotion, he lifted his gaze. His silver eyes, when not smiling, held a frosty, regal detachment.

Elu frowned slightly, as if displeased by the interruption.

—Thump.

Kemi fell to his knees.

Among the elves, Kemi was one of the few who had seen Elu in person and recognized his appearance.

Elu closed his book and stood up, his long robes sweeping the ground. "Kemi? What’s the matter, rushing in like this?"

Kemi: "..."

No one had told him that the Silverhaired Beauty the Elven King had been hiding was Lord Elu!

Kemi stammered, "N-n-nothing! W-w-what are you doing here?"

Elu replied, "Life in the tree was getting monotonous, so I came down for a short stay. What’s troubling you?"

"N-n-nothing at all!" Kemi gave a nervous chuckle. "I—uh, should I probably go now?"

Elu nodded, and Kemi bolted upright and practically ran out without looking back.

Percy watched his friend leave, sighed softly, and locked the door.

Elu picked up his book again. "I heard you and Kemi talking outside. He seemed quite agitated. What was it about?"

"Nothing much..." Percy moved to the bookshelf, rearranging the volumes. He focused intently on the spines, occasionally pulling one out and putting it back. But upon closer inspection, it was clear that the once-neat shelves were now in haphazard order, completely disrupted by the Elven King.

"He just had to ask if we were getting married."

Elu blinked in confusion for a second. "What?"

Hadn’t they already done everything required for marriage? Weren’t they already married?

He began recalling the complete human marriage customs.

Hearing the deity’s puzzled tone, Percy’s fingers paused on a book spine before quickly resuming his task, acting casual. "Don’t worry about it. I—"

Before he could finish, Elu suddenly understood and added, "Oh, you mean we’re missing a wedding ceremony? Of course."

At this, the book slipped from the Elven King’s fingers and fell to the floor.

Percy turned around, his emerald eyes brimming with astonishment: "You'd actually hold a wedding ceremony?"

Elu: "Hmm? We've already done what needed doing, but if you like it, we should still have the ceremony... Percy, your expression is so strange."

For a long moment, Percy didn't know whether to be more shocked by the deity's matter-of-factness or that odd phrase "what needed doing." While he stood frozen in confusion, Elu yawned and headed upstairs to sleep.

No matter how the deity and the Elven King seemed to be completely misunderstanding each other, preparations for the wedding kicked into high gear.

The elf tribe’s wedding traditions were a complete hodgepodge. The council of elders sent a letter to a Succubus gentleman thousands of miles away, asking him to lay out proper proceedings.

Elves had no parents, but in the Succubus’s view, since the spouse was an elf, the Elven King must be something like his father-in-law. For his father-in-law's wedding, the Succubus pulled out all the stops, crafting an extremely detailed wedding plan.

Unfortunately, Elu detested overly complicated rituals. Together with the Elven King, they whittled down the plan until they arrived at one both found suitable.

Thus, the official wedding preparations began.

With Percy's standing among the elves, his wedding was the biggest deal in the tribe. The elves went all out for it—fresh flowers and fruits filled the river valley, the softest silk was cut into fabric, and the most skilled tailors came to take Percy’s measurements.

The measuring tape wrapped around the Elven King’s back, defining his waist, before the design was sketched out, compiled into a booklet, and placed on the deity’s desk.

Elu flipped through it. "Choosing clothes for you?"

He carefully examined every page before saying bluntly, "I like this one with the chains. Percy’s waist looks great—but just for me to see."

As the Elven King’s ears flushed red, Elu continued, "So I’ll go with this one."

He pointed to a dignified outfit paired with a mithril crown. Percy asked, "And you? Which one will you choose?"

"I don’t need to choose," the deity replied.

Before Percy could react, he added, "I’ve heard people wear their most elaborate outfits on their wedding day to show how important it is. My most elaborate outfit is the one I was born in."

When the deity was born in the embrace of Pine Mountain, the mountain prepared garments for its most beloved child—the rarest gems from its veins adorned his crown, and the whitest bird feathers decorated the hem of his robe. No man-made attire could ever rival the divine craftsmanship of the robes he wore at birth.

But the outfit was way too much trouble, and Elu hadn’t worn it since, preferring instead the soft silk pajamas offered by the elves.

Still, for such an important occasion, Elu decided it was time to dust it off.

He flipped through the clothing booklet and the schedule: "On the day of the ceremony, do I go back up the tree first?"

Apparently, tradition called for both to go their separate ways before appearing together.

The deity didn’t understand the point of such customs, but if Percy liked it, he’d put up with it once.

The deity and the Elven King cheerfully settled on all the details, and soon, the wedding day arrived.

Elves arrived holding lanterns, gathering around the Mother Tree under the full moon’s glow. Many wondered—just what kind of looker could possibly win the heart of their dignified Lord Percy?

The Silverhaired Beauty’s name had been the talk of the tribe for ages, but many had yet to see him in person.

They waited with curiosity and anticipation for the Silverhaired Beauty’s arrival. But when the elders announced the start of the ceremony, only the Elven King appeared.

Percy stood solemnly beneath the Mother Tree, dressed in ceremonial attire, composed and poised. Yet the Silverhaired Beauty who was supposed to stand beside him was missing in action.

The elders, having seen it all before, remained calm, but the crowd below started buzzing with speculation.

Why hadn’t Lord Percy’s partner shown up?

Was there truth to the rumors that the beauty refused to marry the Elven King?

Just as everyone held their breath, not daring to make a sound, Percy suddenly took out his harp.

The music flowed like water from the strings, and sacred moonlight fell upon the instrument. The elder forgot to speak, and the crowd held their breath.

No groom *ever* plays the harp at a wedding—this wasn’t part of the ceremony but rather the rite to summon a deity. Even the melody played by the Elven King was a hymn to please the divine.

Among the countless full moons the elves had lived through, the current Elven King would always play the harp to summon the presence of the Lord of Songshan.

Percy, too, had done this on many bleak and hopeless nights.

It had taken him two entire lifetimes to become the finest harpist in the clan, perfecting this piece.

Even now, Percy still remembered those nights, steeped in sorrow and resentment. He had never imagined that one day he would play the harp so calmly, so full of anticipation, awaiting Elu’s descent from the branches of the Mother Tree to take his hand.

When the last note faded, under the bewildered stares of the crowd, Percy suddenly reached toward the treetop of the Mother Tree and bowed gracefully.

The Elven King said, "Let the ceremony begin. Please reveal yourself."

These, too, were not wedding vows but words to invite the deity’s presence.

A murmur swept through the crowd.

—What did it mean to call upon Lord Eluvier at this moment?

As everyone knew, Eluvier had left Songshan to cleanse the Withering and had not appeared for a long time.

But then, the crowd burst into murmurs. Many gasped, grabbing their friends’ arms.

A silvery deity descended like a falling stream of light from the branches of the Mother Tree. He wore the robes from his birth, their hems fluttering in the mountain wind, glistening like moonlight.

The deity landed beside the Elven King and took his hand.

Their fingers laced together, and Percy, feeling the deity’s cool touch, suddenly felt dazed.

Today, Elu was stunning.

The deity also wore a crown, its centerpiece a pure white gemstone with a halo. He did not suppress his spiritual power, and a faint white glow outlined his form, resembling the halo of the moon against the darkness.

In elven literature and poetry, the Mother Goddess and the full moon were intertwined symbols—the full moon could represent the deity, and the deity could represent the full moon.

For the elves raised under the shelter of the valley, the Mother Goddess and the moon were equally revered.

And now, Songshan’s moon had descended from the Mother Tree and stood by his side.

It was like a dream, surreal. For a moment, Percy was gripped by an odd delusion—as if he had never left Nanhu Town, as if this were but a beautiful hallucination at life’s end.

But then Elu squeezed his hand.

Annoyed the elf was spacing out on such an important occasion, the deity tugged at Percy in front of everyone, whispering softly, "Percy, continue."

The touch was unmistakably real. Percy steadied himself and turned to the elder.

Percy had not told anyone in advance that the deity would appear. The elder, too, was stunned for a moment before recovering. "Lord Eluvier, have you come to witness Percy’s vows? But the other partner has yet to arrive."

Even the most imaginative young elf could not connect the deity who dwelled in the treetops with the Elven King’s spouse, let alone the conservative elder, who assumed the deity was merely a witness.

But Percy raised a hand, stopping the elder. "My partner is here. Please proceed to the next step."

The elder froze, his mind nearly blank. He scrambled through the ceremony script. "Ah—yes, next is the vow exchange. Please recite your vows to each other."

Percy stepped back, raising his right hand and pressing it firmly over his heart.

The Elven King solemnly declared, rarely using the deity's full name: "Eluvier, I pledge to remain completely faithful, both in body and spirit, until the very end of my life."

Elu looked surprised.

He had no doubt about Percy’s devotion, but this vow was not part of the wedding arrangements Percy had shared with him.

To the Elven King, a deity did not need to swear an oath to him. He was a creation of the divine, an elf raised under the deity’s protection. Elu owed him no promise—it was always meant to be a one-sided vow.

Yet Elu had already lifted his hand, placing it over his own left chest.

A deity needs no heart—that is where his essence lies.

"Suddenly saying such things… really, what am I to do with you?" Elu muttered, feigning annoyance. "To be honest, I already made this vow once before, but it seems you’ve completely forgotten, Percy. So I suppose I’ll just have to say it again."

As the god’s words washed over him, Percy suddenly widened his emerald eyes.

Long-forgotten memories came flooding back, echoing alongside the deity’s oath.

The deity spoke: "Percy Laiya, my dearest elf, I shall cradle your soul, bestow upon you the purest and most unblemished spirit, and grant you an eternal place by my side—as eternal as the ancient pine mountains."

And so, Percy suddenly remembered that day in Nanhu Town.

When he had been wracked with agony, preparing to embrace death and dissolution, the deity had sworn this very vow to him.

Then, with utmost care, the deity had taken hold of the fading, ashen soul, cradling it tenderly in his hands.