Chapter 88: Idiot Trio in the Village of Elves

Marcus, Tomas, and Bagpipe, the three apostles of the one and only god in human form had found themselves deep into the city of the elves.

The land where flowers and sung and novelty bloomed, where people and nature became one, with their long ears and their beauty despite the longevity, Elves were without a doubt one of the races most distinct from humans.

"Be careful," said the robed duo. "Spite and elf, and God Silvanus himself will trap you in his coffin."

"He'll suck out nutrients from you and feed them to a fucking mushroom."

From up above their houses erected in the trees to the vast lands below of yet more woods and blooms, in their simple dresses of green and blue and their crowns of flowers new.

The elves, fortunately, did not commonly speak human language. It wasn't tough to pick it up, but their isolation made most unable to.