A Gorgeous White

Chapter 341: The Test

Moulin began searching the room, into the adjoining rooms, the terrace, as well as the little storage room in the back that was used to store some gardening equipment. Unfortunately, there wasn't one door within the area. The greenhouse was small, crammed with little tables and large vases filled with exotic plants. The ceiling was filled with breathtaking hanging vines. Little sparkling red gem-like berries swayed at each end of every vine. It felt as if it was teasing Moulin to collect it.

Moulin only pursed his lips and forced his attention away. When he walked, he was careful not to kick or bump at anything. Indeed, it was tight in here. However, the room also carried a cozy air that loosens tension and brings relaxation.

Gardening...

Moulin chuckled softly as he brought his finger to caress blue five-petaled flower in a cute little pot. The flowers in the garden of their estate were carefully tended by his mother. She loved flowers. Moulin smiled wistfully as he reached out to touch the necklace around his neck.

"Does anything disappoint you?"

Moulin jolted out of his place. His guards are raised, and his eyes find a tall figure leaning on the door to one of the adjoining rooms. Moulin's eyes gleamed with caution.

The tall elf only gave him a faint smile. His eyes are calm, curved, and filled with serenity. A dirtied apron is tied around his waist, and his arms are crossed as he observes Moulin. And his eyes were peculiar. The right side was brown. There was a bit of gold in them, like sparkling golden glitters. His left eye was green, like the healthy glow of fresh grass. On his right ear, a pearl earring dangled, gleaming under the light. His hair, platinum, was shorter than most of the elves Moulin had seen during his time here in new Thrundralln, ending just beneath his shoulders.

Where did he come from? Moulin thought. He searched the room for entrances as well as hidden ones, but he found not a single one. It was as if this place was made to imprison someone. Who is he? The youth's fingers flexed. The mana around him shifted, immediately catching the elf's attention.

"I am Na'El, and I will not hurt you." The elf said with a faint smile. He straightened and untied his apron with ease despite the punishing glare drilling into his head.

Indeed, there was no hostility shown. Moulin watched the elf as he put his apron away and began washing his hands on the nearby faucet at the end of the room. There was grace in his movements, and he didn't seem to mind Moulin's cold gaze. After a few moments, Moulin relaxed. He exhaled, and the thriving mana around him dissipated. There was something unusual within the room that would make one at ease.

Moulin decided not to dwell about it any longer and turned his attention to the plants in the room.

With a rag, the elf was wiping the round white table at the center of the room. He dusted off the bits of soil off the surface before he cleaned his hands once more. As the sound of trickling water filled the room, Moulin furrowed his brows as he stared at the elf silently. It seems he was the owner of the greenhouse. Maybe... he knows the way out of here?

Suddenly, the man met his gaze, and Moulin stilled.

The elf shook his head with a chuckle. "What is your name? I have already told you mine."

"..." He doesn't feel right about giving this man his name. But there wasn't anything wrong about it as well.

Na'El chuckled, leaning on the table. His smile was absolutely vibrant. "Just as Phaelona described you to be... you're too overly cautious, young master."

Phaelona? Moulin's eyes widened slightly. "You know her?"

"I don't just know her." He tilted his head. His peculiarities would make a woman swoon. There was an air of calmness around him that could make even the most storm tranquil. His eyes curved, knowing that he finally caught Moulin's attention. "I am her brother."

"Oh..." The sound subconsciously escaped the youth's lips. Moulin lowered his head. "Is she... well?"

"She's quite fine." Na'El nodded. His arms reached out underneath the table.

He was struggling for a couple of seconds. Moulin drew brows together and was about to suggest helping him. However, Na'El finally rose, and his hands placed a big gardening pot on the table with a loud thud.

Immediately, a sudden wave of malevolence permeated the air. The ambiance was threatening, as if aiming to kill off the emotions of anyone within the room. It was similar to the auras of the withered plants and ferocious animals during the journey through Meian. Moulin subconsciously took a step back with a hostile gaze. However, his eyes weren't on the tall elf but locked on the spiteful plant. Its leaves were black and withered. Its stalk was dried, appearing like an older man's bony finger. It reeked of the Kron.

Moulin raised his gaze. A questionable look etched his beauteous countenance as his eyes met Na'El.

The elf glanced at the plant. "This plant isn't entirely dead yet. Can you help me?"

"What?" Moulin blinked.

"Aren't you a purifier?" Na'El tilted his head with an amused smile.

"I..." Moulin frowned. "I am."

Na'El nodded and slowly made his way towards Moulin. He offered his hand. "May I?"

Moment raised a brow. Elf or not, calm or not. He didn't like being touched by strangers. But after assessing the man, he expressionlessly gave his hand and allowed Na'El to lead him before the corrupted plant. Na'El gave a soft look at the aphrodite maeruthan, and before the table, he stood beside Moulin.

"I am no purifier. And if this plant's aura would spread throughout the room, my precious herbs and flowers would be corrupted." He explained with a worried look.

Then why did you even expose such a thing here if you already knew that would happen? Moulin gave the man a confused look. He wasn't sure if Na'El was just being dumb or if he was truly stupid. Nevertheless, the man only gave him a helpless look.

"Try it. It shouldn't be hard purifying a little thing." Na'El added, nudging his head towards the pot.

"..."

Silver eyes drilled unto the black withered plant. Somehow, it was even darker. Malignant tendrils began sprouting from underneath the soil. The devilish thing was twitching as if possessing a mind of its own.

Moulin raised a hand. Mana thrummed beneath his fingertips. Dazzling white hummed, accumulating into spaced underneath his palms. Moulin made little effort in channeling his mana into his hand. But the scent of malevolence washed through his skin, making him falter a bit. The Kron was very persuasive, a luring temptation. Even the greatest would be defeated by it. There was no cure for the people and the lands destroyed by it. However, if the living hadn't fully sunk into the pitch-black darkness, then there was hope for purification. This little plant seemed to have a bit of a fighting will.

The air turned colder. Moulin exhaled, seeming calm as ever. Suddenly, a large hand covered his, startling the wits out of Moulin. When the youth glanced, he was met with Na'El's earnest gaze. He was staring at the pale, delicate hand as if lost in a trance.

"Touch it. Don't be afraid." The elf said.

Moulin looked at him briefly before his fingers touched the deathly leaves. His mana pulsated, and a faint glow of light entered the veins of the dead leaves. It traveled further into the stalk until it spread throughout every part of the plant. Moulin drew his hand back.

The plant singed as life surged within it, devouring the venomous energy that dwelled within it for years. And for the first time, a vibrant color of green expands throughout the plant's exterior. It was brimming with life. A tiny flower bud grew at the top of the plant. Its pink petals peeked shyly from its green sheath. A wondrous scent emanated from it.

Moulin tilted his head.

'That was fast...'

"Curious..." A corner of Na'El's lips rose. Suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

Moulin witnessed the world around him break apart. Like a shattering mirror or a perfect sheet of paper being torn apart. Before his eyes, gone was the calm atmosphere and cozy appearance of the little greenhouse.

A wave of murmurs noised, entering his ears. A vast hall joined his vision. Na'El was now wearing a pure white robe, bright as the sun. A golden circlet was worn on his forehead. Everything happened so fast that Moulin was at a loss about what to do...

He stood before a round table. Five prominent looking elves sat before it, on thrones gilded with gold and dark wood. He recognized none of them except for the elf at the centerPrince Nordehl of Thrundralln. With an unreadable expression, Moulin assessed his surroundings.

Sigh, what have I been caught into?

"Moulin..."

Moulin stopped, and he abruptly turned around. A relieved sigh escaped his mouth. Hadrian reached for him, and Moulin welcomed his arms with a pounding heart. When he felt the man's arms wrap around his waist, he smiled faintly. Now, he turned to his brother, who wore a dark face, but his eyes were relieved to see Moulin. At the corner of his eye, the youth spotted the little fairy, Adeina. There was a fascinated expression on her face.

"Has he proven his worth?" Na'El's voice was amplified by his magic, immediately gathering attention. With the audience's eyes around him, he continued. "I believe he quite fascinating. Unlike anyone I've ever seen."

Moulin furrowed his brother, and he glanced at Hadrian, who gave him a helpless look.

Hadrian leaned down, "You will be given a choice. Just choose and don't force yourself."

Moulin only nodded and then turned to the councilors.

"I agree. He's purified a rare herb that has been corrupted for nearly five years. This is an amazing feat. Your majesty, you have to consider." One of the elders persuaded with eagerness. "Even Lord Arcefi couldn't accomplish it."

"Your majesty, with such pure mana this aphrodite possessed, the tree will surely recover."

The elders kept voicing out sentences after sentences. The maeruthans silently observed them with grave faces.

At last, King Nordehl Halthiandor raised his hand to silence the men. Emerald eyes locked on Moulin. His heart was chaotic, but his voice remained calm.

"If Lord Fraunces would allow it... it is his choice. We are not ones to force the unwilling." Nordehl reminded his people.

Gradually, the eyes settled on Moulin grew numerous. Soon, every single person had his gaze on him, anticipating his answer.

Moulin had finally understood his role within the situation. Hadrian had given him bits of the significant events that had occurred for the last hour. Inwardly, he sighed.

During a few seconds of silence, he made his decision.

His lips parted. "I look forward to be working with you. However. If I were to stay here, so will my comrades."

When his words settled, the elves were nodding eagerly. Nordehl nodded, feeling relieved in his heart. The Dragon crystal will be theirs, and the Tree of Gala'En will soon recover. It seems like the gods were finally on their side.