Most poachers operated alone. Since unicorns had no combat ability, they could obtain unicorn horns by simply finding ways to bypass the elven guardians. After Oberon VII reduced the protection of unicorns, poaching incidents increased day by day. However, directly attacking Midgard and plundering unicorns had only happened once since the founding of Midgard.
It was simply an insult to all elves throughout the nation of Midgard—absolutely unforgivable.
"But! Purchasing unicorn horns is also an unforgivable atrocity! It's precisely because of human greed that sacred beasts are on the verge of extinction!"
"That makes sense. But what you're talking about is all Midgard law, isn't it?"
Enrique said unhurriedly.
"Our Kingdom of Michel has no laws prohibiting the hunting of unicorns. You can't use the elven kingdom's sword to execute a human kingdom's merchant, right?"
"The Abrahamic faith you believe in states that sacred beasts are God's creations, and no one may harm them for selfish desires!" (TN: Religions that revere Abraham in their scriptures. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam are the major ones.)
"How coincidental—Abrahamic doctrine also says to show no mercy to heretics. You, people of Midgard, neither believe in the Abrahamic faith nor want to use Abrahamic doctrine to constrain us. That puts us in quite a difficult position."
"...We will not abandon the faith passed down through generations of our elven ancestors."
"Then I have nothing more to say." Enrique shrugged. "Whether you appeal to the king or the church is up to you, but they won't listen to your one-sided story. You need to produce solid, irrefutable evidence. It seems you have no proof whatsoever that we attacked Midgard. I have the right to arrest you on charges of slander, you know? We merchants take damage to our reputation very seriously."
Having said this, Enrique clapped his hands.
"Show her out."
"Wait—you bastard...!"
Enrique turned and went back into the house. The sound of clashing metal came from the courtyard behind him, lasting about half a minute.
That elf girl probably heard rumors about me giving Anna crystal shoes and rushed in here hot-headedly. It's been a while since I've encountered such a reckless fool. What a waste—such a beautiful girl, but why does she have to be such a blockhead?
Before long, a fully armed knight hurriedly burst into Enrique's study.
"I'm terribly sorry! My lord, we..."
"It's fine." Enrique waved his hand. "She got away, right?"
Seeing the knight hang his head in shame, Enrique smiled and walked over to him, lightly patting the knight's shoulder.
"Don't misunderstand—I'm not scolding you. That person's appearance is typical of the Moon Elf clan. Moon elves are said to become one with the night, and their [Stealth] skills are like adding wings to a tiger at night. As long as they want to use the cover of darkness to escape, no one can stop them."
"I see..."
"So don't take it too much to heart. They're such a ridiculous race that even parents can't find where their own sleeping children are once night falls."
The knight almost couldn't hold back his laughter, but fortunately, he had professional training and generally wouldn't break character.
Thanks to Enrique's humorous explanation, the knight's tense nerves relaxed considerably.
Merchants had no combat ability, so they would hire powerful knights to serve as guards. It was perfectly normal for knights to feel flustered. This assassination attempt had obviously alarmed his employer. If the defense mechanisms hadn't detected it in time, there could have been an accident.
Enrique wasn't using kind lies to comfort the knight—Moon Elves' [Stealth] was indeed their racial talent. To use the most basic reasoning as an example: even if humans practiced their [Swimming] skill to its maximum level, their agility underwater could never match that of merfolk. This kind of gap had nothing to do with individual ability anymore.
Enrique admitted that while the elf girl was single-minded, her [Stealth] abilities had indeed inherited the fine traditions of the Moon Elves. If every time he brought out elven specialty products resulted in this kind of scene, Enrique would be annoyed to death. Ninety-nine percent of righteously indignant elves would be blocked at the door by the Watertown Merchant Association's guards. The elves who could slip into Enrique's estate were ultimately few in number—even among Moon Elves, not everyone could do it.
"I think that person probably won't come back, but it would be better to strengthen security for the time being."
"Yes, sir!"
The knight responded loudly, but he had another matter to report before leaving to carry out his orders.
"Also, our spies report that Anastasia has been confirmed to have returned to the Rothschild residence."
"Just as I expected—she has nowhere else to go. What a heaven-sent opportunity."
A subtle curve appeared at the corner of Enrique's lips.
According to intelligence gathered by the Watertown Merchant Association, all attempts to give Anastasia gifts to increase affection had failed. This definitely wasn't a problem with the quality of the [Unicorn Crystal Shoes]—conquering Anna required other approaches.
What was the most effective way to increase affection?
Catering to her preferences? No... licking boots until you have nothing left is an eternal truth. He had to do the opposite—make Anna have no choice but to rely on the Watertown Merchant Association.
Rothschild, eh? Perfect.
Near Rothschild, there was a noble player who owed Enrique a favor. It was time for that favor to come into play.
The game allowed players to purchase real estate, but its terms also clearly stated that if players didn't log into the game for extended periods, their private residences would revert to public property. After all, the land area was limited—if empty houses weren't reclaimed when players stopped playing, the entire map would eventually become full of ghost houses.
The house where Anastasia lived happened to be in an ambiguous situation: the original owner had quit the game, and most players couldn't afford to buy mansions.
If someone bought the place where Anastasia lived, she would be left homeless.
When people were at their wit's end, they would surely feel grateful toward the benevolent person who extended a helping hand.
Of course, the Watertown Merchant Association or its related personnel couldn't carry out the villainous act of buying Anastasia's mansion.
"Continue surveillance. If there are any developments, report to me immediately."
"Yes!"
Give homeless Anastasia a warm place to go—how could her affection not change?
Anastasia was the [Witch's Daughter], and this identity was worth all of Enrique's elaborate schemes.