Chapitre 162: Fifteenth-order Legend!

Is this an elf?

"Yes... yes, it is," Logan muttered, his voice barely hiding his disbelief. The figure before him, though dressed in tattered rags like a beggar, was unmistakably an elf. His long, pointed ears peeked out from beneath tangled locks of green hair, a hallmark of his kind. Despite the weathered lines of age on his face, his features remained strikingly handsome, the kind of beauty one would expect from a creature of legend.

Logan knew there was no mistaking it; this was an old elf, ancient by human standards. He couldn't be wrong.

But something didn't add up.

"Elves are supposed to be proud and noble, right? Why does he look... like this?" Jane asked, her voice tinged with confusion. Her brother Begon nodded in agreement, equally taken aback. This elf was far from the elegant, almost ethereal beings they had always imagined. In stories, elves were warriors of grace and wisdom, dressed in fine robes or glittering armor. But this one?