The northern mountain range stretches between the north and south, forming a natural boundary across the continent.
Humans occupy the fertile lands to the south.
To the north, the various northern nations press tightly against the mountain range, followed by the Western Wind Empire, and further south, past the Equator, lies the desolate region that belongs to the Demon Race.
North of the mountains, directly nestled among the peaks, stands the Forest Elf Kingdom.
Further north from there, several major Orc Tribes dwell.
If you travel even farther north, you’ll reach the vast Great Ice Field, home to a tribe of Frost Elves.
Such is the basic geography of this world.
At this moment, in Alexia, the capital of the Forest Elf Kingdom nestled within the northern mountains—a city renowned as the Pearl of the World—a spacious balcony extends from an elegant palace.
Here, a small table is set, laden with all sorts of fresh fruit.
Seated at the table are three women.
One is an elf with long, straight, emerald-green hair; another is a human woman with pink hair and a stern expression; the last is a petite human girl with black hair.
They sit around the table together.
Each of them possesses a unique beauty.
The elf woman appears gentle and refined, yet exudes a strength beneath her softness.
The pink-haired woman looks delicate, but there’s a faint sense of powerful energy hidden within her.
As for the little black-haired girl…
She wears a gothic-style dress, with black and white as the main colors, intricate lace and ruffles adorning her skirt, accentuating her exquisitely crafted face—almost as if carved by a master dollmaker.
Her figure is petite, her slender legs wrapped in white stockings.
A pair of delicate feet rest in shiny black leather boots, the straps decorated with a tiny red flower.
The stool is too tall, and the girl’s feet dangle above the floor.
She looks like a work of art, meticulously crafted by a master dollmaker.
Rather than sitting here, she seems more suited to being displayed in a glass case; if only one could hold her in their arms and gently caress her…
But don’t be fooled by the girl’s youthful appearance—among those present, she is the oldest!
How old, you ask?
Her age spans the history of humankind.
That’s right, she is Antiros.
She’s actually a witch, not a human, yet also bears the title of a great human sage, and is known as the Grand Witch.
Witches are a special kind of human.
They possess unchanging beauty, immense talent, and godlike authority—even time cannot cause these lovely flowers to wither.
The elf woman wears a faint smile, meeting Viviene’s gaze without backing down.
Neither seems willing to concede, and they’ve been locked in this standoff for quite a while.
Only Antiros is earnestly eating fruit.
Suddenly, Antiros hops down from her stool, claps her little hands, glances left at Vivienne, Princess of the Western Wind Empire, then right at Eliv, Saintess of the Church of Nature.
In a soft, gentle voice, she says,
“I suddenly have something to take care of, so I’ll be leaving first.”
Antiros’s words temporarily draw the attention of the other two women, breaking their tense standoff.
In unison, Vivienne and Eliv ask,
“Lady Antiros, what is it?”
Antiros blinks and replies nonchalantly, “There’s a problem in the laboratory. I need to attend a meeting. Would you like to sit in and listen?”
Vivienne: “…”
Eliv: “…”
They’re both clever, but even Vivienne and Eliv can’t understand the things Antiros researches, let alone grasp any specifics.
Besides, Antiros is their elder, so it wouldn’t be proper to pry and ask if she’s received any secret information.
Moreover, Antiros is practically half a guardian to Enya.
The two watch as Antiros walks away, then their gazes clash once more.
They’re locked in a struggle over the “Northern Sea Route” plans—neither willing to give an inch, both eager to gain the upper hand.
At this moment, Vivienne’s personal maid, Grey, hurries over.
Vivienne frowns and asks,
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s… about Miss Estelle…”
Vivienne instantly rises from her chair.
The sudden movement catches Eliv off guard.
She had just memorized the name “Estelle” when Vivienne threw out a line: “I accept your terms. I look forward to our cooperation.”
“Uh… I look forward to it as well.”
With that, Vivienne hurriedly leaves, leaving Eliv alone.
The beautiful and holy green-haired elf breathes out softly, gazing at the brilliant starry sky beyond the balcony.
Eliv raises her glass of fruit wine and takes a small sip, murmuring to herself,
“Enya, what are you doing right now?”
No sooner had Vivienne left than an elf girl entered, running up to Eliv in a panic to report something urgent.
After hearing the report, Eliv also shot up from her seat.
What is Enya doing?
Enya is doing needlework, mending her own clothes!
…
The next day, Enya saw Rosily off at the carriage.
After giving her daughter a farewell hug as usual, Rosily reluctantly left her embrace and climbed into the carriage.
Enya watched as her daughter’s carriage receded into the distance.
Today, her long silver hair was tied up.
She wore a fitted white blouse that hugged her curves, paired with a high-waisted black skirt that accentuated her figure.
The skirt was fluffed out with a petticoat, giving it a voluminous look.
She also wore a loose jacket, adding a touch of laziness to her otherwise sharp and elegant demeanor.
Her legs were clad in sheer stockings, and she wore five-centimeter thick-heeled pumps.
Both items are considered affordable luxuries in this world, made from slime-extracted gelatin processed through several special techniques.
Previously, these could only be found in small quantities in some of the Empire’s major cities, but now they’ve captured the hearts of most women and have even made their way to Red Pine City.
Enya decided to follow the trend, but her current appearance is mainly influenced by the legendary artifact “Lie.”
“Lie” causes her to appear more and more like the Phil Lady in others’ minds.
In their eyes, Lady Phil is a beautiful woman with an air of intelligence and elegance, somewhere between youthful and mature.
Enya carried out a box of magic potions by herself.
After waiting at the door for a while, a cargo carriage slowly approached.
The driver, an elderly coachman, respectfully addressed Enya as Lady Phil.
Phil Crochy—this name is spreading far and wide.
As an Alchemist, especially one capable of crafting advanced magic potions, she commands respect wherever she goes.
Recently, many have come to her home hoping to meet her—some wishing to hire her, others with different motives.
But all of them were turned away.
Enya refused to see anyone.
As a result, the name Lady Phil has become even more mysterious.
The old coachman beamed and said,
“Lady Phil, let me help you with this. You just watch from the side.”
“…”
Enya watched as the old coachman steadily and quickly loaded the goods onto the carriage, and couldn’t help but sigh softly.
The restrictions of “Lie” were becoming heavier and heavier.
Fortunately, she would never truly forget herself and become Lady Phil entirely.
The carriage set off toward the north gate of Red Pine City.