Bear School Astartes

The One-Eyed Elf’s fingers unconsciously caressed the tattoo on the side of his neck, the floral tattoo evidently crafted with exquisite skill.

And it carried the art style of the elves. It must have been the work of an elf.

Yet Iophis himself just sneered as he spoke to Sachia.

"You’ve spent a long time with humans, yet you find recognition and sympathy for the Squirrel Faction because of your identity as a Green Dragon."

"You quickly understood our essence, do you know why?"

"Because we’re also just a bunch of brats! Young punks! Hotheads!"

Iophis calling himself a ’brat’ didn’t anger Sachia; instead, she earnestly looked at him, ready to listen to his thoughts.

But Sachia obviously didn’t expect him to describe himself and his group like this.

Wasn’t calling us ’brats’ an insult just now?

"We were incited, someone exploited our impulsiveness and foolishness, deceiving us with ’freedom’ as a slogan... Do you think no one among us has heard this? Or understood it?"

Seeing Sachia and Margaret’s stunned expressions, and Lann, who had been silently stuffing food into his mouth since the conversation with Sachia began, Iophis chuckled uncertain whether to mock himself or others.

"I say we’re a bunch of hotheads because we all know this in our hearts, yet we can’t overcome our innate anger and hatred, and still walk along this path laid out by others."

Iophis emphasized the word ’others’ when he said it.

He obviously knew not only that they, the Squirrel Faction, were incited, but he was also clear about the role of this ’others.’

"We can’t overcome our innate feelings. That’s so-called impulsiveness."

"We all understand the reasoning... people always say ’don’t be impulsive,’ but who can truly manage that?"

By the time Iophis said this, he seemed to let go, drinking up all the Fremontino wine left in his glass in one gulp, even reaching out across the bonfire towards Lann.

The Demon Hunter quietly reached out and poured him another glass.

The previously nonchalant and indifferent Margaret seemingly furrowed her eyebrows, her expression now had a bit of seriousness and earnestness.

And from her bag made of petrified lizard leather, she pulled out an unopened bottle of Livia Cherry Wine.

"Drive humans back into the sea... this slogan is catchy and easy to remember, convenient to spread. Members of my squad often shout this slogan to boost morale when they’re emotionally stirred. But Eira and I both know..."

"This slogan is not for motivating us, the Squirrel Faction."

"The target of this slogan’s promotion is humans! It’s meant to ignite the anger of humans, making those who are originally neutral and relatively peaceful despise us, hate us!"

"And we, not being the promotional target, just become hotheaded and charge onto the battlefield, and thus became what’s known as... the Squirrel Faction."

Iophis shrugged, a smile appeared on his face... a melancholic smile.

"Now, many non-human races privately view us as heroes, which, of course, satisfies my vanity and sense of honor."

That melancholic smile seemed engrained on his face, refusing to fade.

"Conversely, people like Yalpan and Zoltan would see us as both foolish and disgraceful, as if they were seeing a young punk diving headfirst into a woman with her legs spread, without a care of who she is or the cleanliness between her legs."

"Especially since this act also implicates others."

"But maybe in a few years, those like Yalpan who strive for peaceful coexistence with humans will instead be called traitors, and we’ll be openly regarded as heroes."

"In this world, in our history, the roles of traitors and heroes switching... that’s long been nothing new. Yalpan knows this as well."

Margaret seriously watched Iophis, while Sachia, at this moment, seemed to no longer feel the injury on her shoulder, as her decisive and agile beautiful face clenched her back teeth tightly, her masseter muscle bulging as a result.

Clearly, neither of them expected that a Commander of the Squirrel Faction would have such deep thoughts about the situation and the stakes.

Approaching the entire matter from different perspectives, then thinking it through.

Margaret was fine, she simply hadn’t been concerned before.

Sachia, however, was more shocked.

Because obviously, she thought she had made significant progress in her ideological framework after discussing it a few times with Lann, yet in front of Iophis, it still seemed not deep enough, nor comprehensive enough.

This is not a gap in wisdom and intelligence, but a gap in perspective, experience, and horizon by putting oneself in others’ shoes.

And as Sachia thought this, she couldn’t help but turn to look at the still silent, just eating Demon Hunter.

He seemed to be the only person unmoved by Iophis’ exposition... as if he had seen it all before, long desensitized.

"Ailireen," Iophis suddenly spoke to Sachia, "Carson originally had the chance to shoot you directly on the mountain path, but he hesitated at that moment and shouted this name. Do you remember?"

Sachia nodded, she remembered that Elf Archer from the Squirrel Faction, who was shouting this name even before death.

"Ailireen," Iophis repeated this name, the complex emotions in his tone making it impossible for Sachia to distinguish.

"She was an elf, a brave elf. Two hundred years ago, she once led elves to attack humans."

"But the elders among the elves disagreed with her actions because they knew their population was sparse, their race could not afford the cost of failure. Once failed, it would be an irreparable disaster. The elders wanted to preserve their kind, ensuring their race’s continued survival. But..."

"How can old people compete with the young in charisma? Especially when the young are beautiful and eloquent, offering suggestions that are glorious and fearless!"

"So the young elves followed Ailireen onto the battlefield, and then were slaughtered. A merciless slaughter."

"Those young people were all shouting her name before they died."

Iophis spoke calmly, occasionally sipping fine wine.

"Just as she promised, they died bravely, gloriously, and with dignity. But the result was only devastation and our race’s already doomed tragic fate."

The One-Eyed Elf calmly gazed at the beautiful bodies of the Demon Hunter, Female Warrior, and Female Warlock, but not a trace of lust was mixed in.

"Elves have long lifespans, but among us, only the young have reproductive capability. And these precious young... they followed Ailireen and died on the battlefield."

"The elves are doomed."

"Humans indulge in lust, and this desire is much more intense than that of elves. This allows humans to engage in heedless, indiscriminate lovemaking anytime, anywhere. As we see it, human reproductive speed is simply like that of rabbits!"

"Historical experience tells us: only the races that are most skilled at enlarging women’s bellies and slitting others’ throats can grow strong and rise to power."

"And in both murder and mating, humans indeed have no peers."

"And Ailireen..." Iophis gave a laugh that seemed both mocking and sorrowful, "she became a hero."

"Legend has it that when she died, she was pleading to someone unknown, saying, ’Forgive me, forgive me.’ And in my opinion..."

The One-Eyed Elf’s expression suddenly turned fierce and loathsome.

"Let her go to hell! Instead of asking for forgiveness after doing wrong, she might as well just die directly!"

"Or be like me! Knowing that our race is doomed, just let it go! Care about nothing! Regret nothing!"

"Indecisive and capricious..." Iophis’s fingers subconsciously rubbed the floral tattoo on the base of his neck, even making the skin turn red. "She deserved to die!"

"Ailireen’s evaluation among the elves is mixed, which has become normal." Margaret held her wine glass in a daze at this point but forgot to bring it to her lips.

"But now, you, a member of the Squirrel Faction, speak of her... This is truly..."

The Female Warlock had an expression of complex emotions hard to articulate.

Evidently, the current scene was beyond her understanding.

But thinking it over carefully, the causal relationship and logical sequence within it weren’t unreasonable.

Iophis indeed hated humans and indeed wanted to violently retaliate against them.

But what made him start acting recklessly, with the mentality of ’lose everything,’ feeling it’s worth it to kill one and a gain to kill two, was actually the impulsive actions and failure of Ailireen two hundred years ago.

If he had not already foreseen the inevitably bleak future of his race, with his intelligence and insight into the situation, he most likely would not have ended up in the Squirrel Faction.

"But let’s get back to the main point, Iophis."

Finally, Lann, who had been silently eating, suddenly began to speak.

This action naturally drew the attention of everyone else.

"You dared to risk following the trail I and the Terror Tyrannosaurus left all the way here, not to expound on your racial views, right?"

"I promised Sachia I would help her keep the secret of being a Green Dragon. And your next answer..."

Lann stuffed the last bite of the ham and cheese sandwich into his mouth, looking at the One-Eyed Elf.

"This might affect your fate, Iophis."

The Demon Hunter shrugged, instinctively wanting to lick the grease off his fingers, indicating his current relaxed state.

But the Female Warlock beside him coyly smiled, then pulled the Demon Hunter’s hand into her grasp in an irresistible manner.

Plunging the fingers boldly into those strikingly radiant red lips.

The Female Warlock always disregarded others while indulging in pleasure.

And the One-Eyed Elf, after a brief silence, also nodded, pursing his lips, placing his wine glass next to the campfire.

He spoke earnestly.

"I’m here just seeking an opportunity."

"Opportunity?"

"Yes." Iophis, his face made hard and un-elf-like by scars and a single eye, turned first to the Demon Hunter and then to the Female Warrior.

"A real opportunity to save my race!"