Li Lin and the others were about to make their move.

  After all, anyone who was going to be taken away for no reason would think about resisting, especially if they were extremely powerful themselves.

  But Roland reached out his hand, stopping them.

  He calmly asked the two men who appeared to be enforcers, “I’m a little curious as to why we’re being taken away.” “The rules,” the elven enforcer said coldly. “Any outsider who drifts here has to register at the mayor’s office.”


  Oh, I see.

  It was something like a refugee record for ease of management.

  In that case, it wouldn’t hurt to register.

  They were only here to complete their quest, and there was no need for a deadly argument with the authorities here. It might elicit hostility from them, which would make their chances of completing the quest drop drastically, so it was better to have less trouble. With this in mind, the five followed the two elves to the mayor’s residence. Along the way, Roland found that the people here were quite emaciated and didn’t look very well.

  For one thing, the Netherworld had a heavy atmosphere of the dead and wasn’t very suitable for creatures to survive, and for another, it was too barren and not very good for growing food.

  But it was good to see that some elves had drifted here as well, and even a few druids.

  These plant experts had cultivated a crop that could grow in the Netherworld, and not counting the yield per hectare, there were roughly a hundred and fifty kilos of it, which ripened every three months. Besides, there was no spring, summer, fall, or winter in the Netherworld, so the plants could be cultivated constantly, which kept many people alive.

  But even then, there weren’t many places where such crops could be sown, and so life in the Netherworld was still plagued by the lack of food.

  The mayor’s residence wasn’t large. It was just a small stone building that covered over two hundred square feet.

  All the buildings in this city were short, no more than three stories tall.

  Upon entering the mayor’s residence, the orc soldier stopped at the entrance and the elf led the five inside.

  Since the mayor’s residence wasn’t big, after going straight up to the second floor, Roland saw the mayor.

  Another elf wearing an old robe.

  The robe was made of linen thread and was very rough.

  At this time, Roland also finally knew why others could tell at a glance that they were from the outside world.

  The clothes they were wearing…… looked too new and too nice compared to the people here.

  “Please sit down.” The male elf in front of him was also blond, and as handsome as the other elves in the forest, except that he did not look as well as the elves on the main plane, and even looked a bit gloomy. “It’s rare to see five friends come down here at once.”


  The level of the male elf in front of him was level 13, quite high.

  And as Roland had noticed on the way here, the Netherworld populace was generally of a higher level and had a high percentage of professionals, estimated to be a tenth of the population.

  But it was normal when he thought about it. The environment here was harsh and to survive, of course, one had to be strong enough to do so.

  In this small group, it was generally Schuck who was responsible for diplomacy; after all, high charisma was most applicable in such places.

  “Sir, do few people stray to this place?” Schuck asked.

  “Quite a few, just at irregular times. Sometimes one in a few years, sometimes one in a few days. It’s hard to tell,” the male elf glanced at Schuck, then his eyes fell on Roland. “You have elven blood in you…… Everyone is kin-

  brother, can you tell me if the Mother is well?”


  Schuck shrugged and stood aside.

  Roland didn’t expect that the elven bloodline he had chosen to switch to Elemental Lord had come into play again.

  He nodded. “Very well, all is well with the elves, but I feel more human than anything else.”


  The elf across the table showed a torn look and finally sighed. “It seems you grew up in the human world; I don’t blame you for thinking that way. Now I would like to ask, do you have any plans next?”


  “No plans for now, taking it one step at a time,” Roland replied.

  “You don’t seem to harbor any surprise or hard feelings about being stranded in the Netherworld?”


  This elf looked odd as he sized up the five of them.

  Their expressions were too calm. This elf was the local mayor, a native of the Netherworld, but as an elf, even in the Netherworld, he revered the World Tree as his ancestors did. The elven race could not break their legacy even in the Netherworld due to their long lives and powerful abilities.

  Of course, it had something to do with the fact that the Nether God hardly ever bothered with them.

  Otherwise, it wouldn’t be difficult for a god to convert them into a creature like a drow.

  The elf had been alive for nearly two hundred years and had registered a lot of realm-breaking wanderers. Anyone who knew that they had come to the Netherworld would look as sorrowful as if their father and mother had died.

  It was the first time he had seen someone this calm.

  “Should we cry then?” Roland shrugged indifferently. “Besides, we’ll find a way to get back.”


  Roland didn’t want to reveal that he could teleport back to the main plane.

  He was afraid that something would happen and affect his quest.

  Besides, these people had lived here for so long and he didn’t need to change their way of

  living.

  “Then just register.” The mayor looked at Roland, cast Discern Lies on himself, dipped a quill pen with some black ink, and placed it on top of the parchment. “Tell us your identity, profession, and race.”


  “Roland, Mage, the race is Golden Son.”


  Hearing this, the mayor visibly froze, “Golden Son? What race is this? None of the Bards that came down three years ago said there was such a race.”


  “A small race in a remote corner of the world, it’s normal not to have heard of it.” Roland shrugged.

  At this moment, there was a lively atmosphere in the livestream.

  “Good f**ing small race in the remote corner of the world, Roland loves to humble himself too much.”


  “Mages are all liars.”


  “Not exactly a lie. We’re in Hollevin, which is indeed a remote corner of the world, and half a million people is nothing if not a small race.”


  “Can’t help it. People with high intelligence always hide a few things in their speech.”


  “I think he just simply doesn’t want to explain it to people so they don’t ask questions about

  it.”


  “It’s possible! People with high IQs generally don’t want to talk to people with low IQS because they find it troublesome to always have to explain, and then you guys say they don’t have emotional intelligence…… Yes, those nerds you all talk about.”


  In reality, a netizen had gotten it right. Roland was too lazy to explain so much, and if not for Discern Lies, he wouldn’t even want to say the words “Golden Son,” and just be human and be done with it.

  The elven mayor sighed. “A Mage…… I thought you were a Warlock. In the Netherworld, Mages have a pretty bad time.”


  “They’ll be hung on the Wall of the Faithless by the Nether God?”


  The elven mayor laughed. “Indeed, so you’d better believe in just anyone—the Nether God is a good choice. Not to mention beautiful, she also has a great personality.”


  “Hanging a person’s soul on the Wall of the Faithless, you call that a good character?” Roland froze. “Wait, the Nether God is a woman? But when I read the books, didn’t they say that its gender was unknown and that it was just a black mist?”


  “How is that possible! Even the evil gods have bodies, how can the Nether God be a mass of mist.” The elven mayor laughed. “She’s just afraid that her divine body will be looked at directly and the gazer will become mentally deranged, so she transformed into mist.” Roland asked, “So you haven’t met the Nether God either, mayor?”


  Probably because he identified with the elven bloodline in Roland, the mayor seemed to be particularly patient with Roland. “I haven’t seen her. I am of low strength and dare not look directly at the gods.”


  “It seems that the Nether God appears often?”


  “That’s for sure.” The elven mayor laughed heartily. “This is the Netherworld, her home, so how can she not appear often? It’s just that she doesn’t pay much attention to us. Okay, the others, report your identities and occupations.”


  The other four reported information about themselves.

  After the registration was done, the mayor looked at Schuck. “You are a Saint Samurai. Remember not to cast light divine spells here randomly, many people will be uncomfortable.” “Why?”


  “Many of the inhabitants who aren’t professionals have more or less mixed their bodies with the dark elements to survive here because of the time and age adaptations, and if you cast a light divine spell, even if they see your divine light from afar, an ordinary person might not be able to stand it, and might even go blind.”


  Schuck nodded. “I understand, I will refrain from it.”


  “As expected of Saint Samurai who are known for their kindness.” The elven Mayor nodded in satisfaction. “Also, you guys are new to the city and have no place to stay, so would you like to buy a few houses to stay in this city?”


  “Houses are expensive, right?” Roland asked. He had noticed on the way to the mayor’s residence that there weren’t many houses in this city, but there were quite a lot of people.

  “Expensive for the natives here, but not for those of you who are new to the Netherworld.” The elven Mayor gestured to the rather good quality clothes they were wearing. “Just these fresh clothes on you are worth a medium-sized house.”


  Roland once again looked at the clothes on the elven mayor—linen robes.

  It turned out not that the mayor wasn’t thrifty, but there really weren’t any nice clothes to wear.

  He neatly took out several sets of spare clothes from his Backpack and put them on the table. “Then I’ll trouble the mayor to help us choose five good houses.”


  Looking at the new clothes on the table, the elven mayor was quite happy. “Good, you’re all very good. Anlor, come here, take these five friends, go to the northern suburbs, and let them each choose a house.”


  The elven guard who had brought Roland and the others over earlier reappeared.

  He slightly bent down and made a gesture of invitation.

  Roland and the others followed him and left the mayor’s residence.

  The mayor watched them leave from the window, then he closed the window, picked up the clothes, and went into the bedroom to try them on.

  Roland and the others followed behind this elf, and after walking for a while, Roland asked, “Mr. Anlor, may I ask a question.”


  “Go ahead.” He also seemed to sense the elven bloodline in Roland.

  “Are there vampires in the Netherworld?”


  “Why do you ask this?” Anlor looked back at Roland curiously.

  “Because this friend, who is a Saint Samurai, has an extreme hatred for vampires.”


  Schuck helplessly made a furious expression.

  “There is, but you’d better not mess with them.” Anlor walked on while saying, “The vampires are now protected by their True Ancestor, and no one dares to go against them except the Nether God.”