The Elf Journey In The Western Fantasy World-Chapter 84: Inferior Imitators

"As for the fall into corruption—that might be the very reason behind it."

Illiya had never considered things from this angle before. Now that someone had pointed it out, he suddenly had a new line of thought. But this idea could only be confirmed by going to the Demon Realm.

Because the Demon Realm’s collection of books might be even more comprehensive than that of the Elves.

Hearing Ke’Oth’s explanation, Illiya felt more grounded.

It seemed Ke’Oth already had a suspect—or rather, he suspected a particular branch of demons.

Many ideas suddenly flashed through Illiya’s mind, but he couldn’t grasp a single one. Fleeting inspiration was always the hardest to hold onto.

After pondering for a moment, Illiya asked directly, "Ke’Oth, do you already have someone in mind?"

Ke’Oth wasn’t surprised that they reached that conclusion. Demons had little interest in hiding the truth or lying. Moreover, he genuinely disliked the demons responsible for this mess. To be more accurate, many other demons disliked that particular branch as well.

"Yes, I do have someone in mind," Ke’Oth affirmed. "If my guess is right, it should be that branch of demons that often lingers near the Abyss. You all might not know, but N’zall definitely does."

The moment Ke’Oth mentioned the word "Abyss," N’zall’s brows furrowed tightly. His expression turned grim, and his hands that was hanging loosely by his sides—curled into fists on instinct. He looked like a bow drawn taut, ready to shoot at any moment.

"How could I possibly forget that branch of demons?" N’zall enunciated each word slowly, his tone so fierce it seemed like he was ready to bite someone. "I will never forget that branch of demons."

"No, they cannot be called members of the demon race. Calling them that would be giving them far too much credit. That group of cowardly trash—"

N’zall said this with biting sarcasm.

"That trash spends every day indulging in incomprehensible ’dreams,’ constantly loitering around the edge of the Abyss. They claim they’re waiting to welcome the Lord of the Abyss, who is sealed within it, and obsess over overthrowing our Demon King. They insist the Demon King is illegitimate, that his rise to power was a mistake."

"Every time I see them, I feel disgusted. And they’re especially the kind who bully the weak and fear the strong. Not a single one of them can defeat a true demon, yet they consider themselves so superior they believe the rest of the demon realm should crawl at their feet. Isn’t that just a toad dreaming of eating swan meat? Utter madness."

"So it doesn’t surprise me at all that they’d do something so utterly disgraceful. In fact, it only confirms my expectations," N’zall sneered. "Oh, right—on the main continent, they even have another name: ’inferior imitators.’ Sound familiar?"

Illiya and Seoryun exchanged looks, seeing the same astonished expression mirrored in each other’s eyes.

How could it be the "inferior imitators"?

It wasn’t that this race was incapable of evil, but rather, after all these years, the truly shocking thing was that they had somehow reappeared on the continent.

This race’s innate ability was imitation. They could mimic others flawlessly, from the outer appearance to the inner essence. They were the kind of beings who could deceive the heavens themselves. Of course, an imitation was still just an imitation. No matter how perfect, there were always flaws. Those who spent enough time with them could eventually detect something off.

Because of this, people had once given them a mocking title—"inferior imitators."

Back a thousand years ago, these "imitators" had thrown the already chaotic continent into even greater turmoil. But after the Continental Pact was signed, the "imitators" had been universally rejected and eventually vanished from the main continent entirely. No one had heard anything about them since.

And now, today, Ke’Oth and N’zall were telling them that the "inferior imitators" were not only alive and well, but secretly engaging in malicious acts.

Truly... some things never change.

Illiya sighed.

"Though we have our suspicions now, the elves have never been a prejudiced race," Illiya said calmly. "Only with evidence can elves fully believe. Before that, any guess is just that—a guess."

No one had any objections, all nodding in agreement.

"So, now we have our goal, don’t we?" Illiya gave a sly smile and winked at everyone. His golden eyes sparkled like the blazing sun in the sky, dazzling and captivating.

The others weren’t fools. Hearing what the elf had just said, they all picked up on the underlying message.

Ah... so that’s what this is about.

That line practically spelled it out—they were going after the "inferior imitators."

Who said elves were all noble beings who disdained underhanded tactics?!

Having made their decision, the group quickly packed their belongings and prepared to head toward the Demon Realm through the border.

Ke’Oth and N’zall stood at the very front, followed by Illiya and Seoryun. Behind them, Drow and Darius each stood watchfully, one behind each of their comrades, looking exactly like a pair of guardian deities. To an outsider, they might have looked like two personal guards.

"Are you ready?" Ke’Oth asked in a deep voice.

Illiya immediately tensed. His left hand instinctively reached for the spatial bracelet on his right wrist, preparing for anything.

Before he could even see what was happening, the border suddenly erupted in a burst of blinding white light, engulfing them all completely.

When they closed their eyes and then opened them again—and just like that, they were in an entirely new place.

Illiya widened his eyes, trying to see clearly: "..."

Had he just stared into the void?

Everyone else appeared equally confused. Weren’t they told that crossing the border was extremely dangerous? That entering it meant facing almost certain death?

This wasn’t the script they had been promised at all!

Is something wrong with the border or what.

As soon as Ke’Oth steadied himself, he spun around to face Illiya and the others. His face was lit up with glee, overflowing with the smug satisfaction of a successful prank. The more bewildered their expressions became, the wider his grin stretched—his lips practically curving up to the heavens.