070 The Lizardman's Choice

Edward held Lucy’s slender arm as they ran freely through the streets and alleys of Highcourt City, letting themselves go and embracing their freedom. The two mice clasped hands tightly—this was their first night together, and tonight’s moonlight was especially beautiful. At this moment, holding Lucy’s hand, Edward felt as if he had captured the entire world.

They dashed through alleyways and intersections, along clean and orderly streets, out of Highcourt's gates, down the gentle slope beneath the city walls, across endless fields, and raced wildly over the nurturing Northern Plains.

This purest happiness was like a treasure from another world, unforgettable for a lifetime.

Under the moon’s embellishment, the Northern Plains at night were especially refreshing, the breeze stirring the wild grass, creating rippling waves.

"Wow!!!" Edward spread his arms and shouted to the sky, as if inviting the moonlight to witness their love.

Who knows how long they ran across the Northern Plains—Edward and Lucy lay breathless on the grass, gasping for air. Yet their hands remained tightly entwined, gazing at the hazy moonlight as the atmosphere of intimacy reached its peak.

Moonlight spilled across Lucy’s cheek, alluring and beautiful.

“My heart is beating so fast! Feel it!” Lucy grabbed Edward’s hand and pressed it to her chest.

“Mine too!”

(The next five hundred words are omitted; I deleted them all, afraid of what the system might do.)

The bright, pristine moonlight bore witness to the transformation of their love.

...

Yet what they did not know was that it was not only the radiant moon above that witnessed their love's ascension.

Fifty meters away...

Ron, accompanied by several hand-picked dark elf sentinels, had watched the mice’s every movement.

Three days earlier, after receiving the covert assassination order from the Elf King, Ron had set out for Highcourt almost simultaneously with Karl’s group. Their departure points were staggered; otherwise, meeting would likely have led to a deadly confrontation.

Though the dark elves possessed excellent night vision, it was still inferior to daylight, and the faces of mousefolk were notoriously hard to distinguish. Ron felt the muscular male mouse looked somewhat familiar, but thought nothing more of it.

His mind had been consumed these days by the Elf King’s mission: finding an opportunity, scouting the terrain, achieving a fatal strike, and retreating safely afterward. These concerns occupied all his thoughts, leaving no room for anything else.

“What a pair of shameless lovers, sneaking out this late at night!”

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“Honestly, even I feel thrilled watching them! That lad has the same style I had in my youth!”

“Should we capture them, pry some information out of them?”

“No! Absolutely not—we must not alert them. If the mousefolk realize some of their kin have disappeared beneath Highcourt, they’ll certainly tighten security. That would only make our assassination mission harder.”

“If mousefolk are still out at night, it means they’re totally unaware of any threat.”

“Besides, our target is their chieftain—not these two. This pair probably has no contact with the tribe’s leadership.”

“Time is tight. Since there aren’t many mice about tonight, let’s scout around Horseshoe Mountain and find a way up first!”

Ron analyzed calmly, making the next plan.

“Right, let’s find a way up to the heights. These cunning mousefolk must have some hidden paths down the mountain.”

“Let’s do it—move now!”

With that, Ron ignored the pair of lovers and led his five elite elven sentinels toward Horseshoe Mountain.

...

Edward, still working hard in the fields not far away, would never know that on this unforgettable night, he had brushed past death itself!

...

Southern Northern Plains

Inside the Lizardfolk camp

Though night had fallen, inside a wooden boardhouse, Summer and the lizardfolk elders faced a decision that would determine the fate of their tribe.

It was a large council, with more than fifty lizardfolk present, though only the five central elders had the right to speak.

“I disagree!” declared a white-bearded elder. “I still believe we should send troops to help the mousefolk!”

As the tribe’s internal affairs officer, Laurence stubbornly held his ground.

“But have you forgotten how the mousefolk treated us before?”

“They are allies in name—what about in reality?”

“How much have we helped them? We built their irrigation systems, taught them animal husbandry, even introduced our precious crops to their diets.”

Elder Frank spoke up—a maned lizard seated opposite the white-bearded elder.

His series of pointed questions made clear his deep resentment toward the mousefolk.

“And what did they do for us? Gave us a plot of land and asked us to guard their southern border?”

“Now, when trouble arises, they come to us! Want us to be cannon fodder? Dream on!”

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Frank’s impassioned words began to sway many neutral young members.

He pressed on, “They come and go freely through our camp, but our people need some ridiculous permit to do business in Highcourt? Why? Why!”

Frank and Laurence argued fiercely, while the other three elders had yet to reach a decision.

Listening to Frank’s hysterics, Summer remained silent, observing from the side. She wanted to hear her people’s true opinions, and so kept a low profile.

The more than fifty lizardfolk present were all key figures or promising youth of the tribe. From Summer’s perspective, most of her people harbored some grievances against the mousefolk for their domineering ways.

At this moment, another elder, Roger, seemed to have his own thoughts and spoke up. “I think sending troops to help the mousefolk isn’t impossible, but we can set terms. At the very least, we shouldn’t allow a sickly, unequal partnership between our two races in the future.”

Roger’s words were a compromise between Laurence and Frank, quickly gaining support from many lizardfolk leaders.

They believed that cooperation should mean mutual respect and equality, and allies should help each other with dignity.

Soon, the plan to help the mousefolk while submitting a series of favorable demands received widespread support.

“I want to know exactly what our demands are!”

Just then, Morgan, who had been listening quietly in the corner, stood up and said,

“I believe your views are all mistaken—either too extreme or failing to recognize the nature of the situation.”

Morgan had just been promoted to manage the tribe’s storage—a capable and lucky junior officer in the eyes of the other lizardfolk.

“There’s no place for your words, sit down!” Frank immediately stood, pointing angrily at Morgan. After all, any primitive society values seniority.

Hearing Morgan’s words, Summer’s eyes lit up.

“Go ahead, I’d like to hear it.”

For the first time, Summer, seated at the center, spoke up. Frank immediately saluted and sat down, revealing Summer’s true authority within the tribe—far different from her harmless demeanor before Yang Jie.

“Thank you, Chieftain!”

Morgan bowed.

“But I hope you’ve considered your words carefully. If I find you seeking fame at the tribe’s expense, don’t blame me for making an example of you.”

Summer’s tone was calm, her usual gentleness gone. Her gaze was icy, devoid of emotion, radiating an unspoken authority.

The murmuring leaders and elders quickly fell silent. Their tribe owed its current prosperity to Summer, and they knew she was not as simple as she appeared.

Morgan gave a nervous laugh, then strode forward...