Reborn as the Genius Son of the Richest Family - Chapter 882

Chapter 882: Escalating pranks
“Some hooded figures did this?” Michael asked, intrigued.

“Yeah. My guards saw a glimpse of them during their first spree of vandalisms. After that, our defenses couldn’t find a trace of them again,” Lady Farren scowled.

“Who do you think they are?”

They definitely weren’t troublesome kids who had way too much time on their hands, that’s for sure. These statues were very tall. A normal human only went up to their knees. It would take a lot of strength just to push it and let it fall by itself.

And despite the statues looking a bit derelict, rife with moss and vines, the stone slab it was sculpted from was a type of mineral that was almost as hard as metal itself! It would take a group of able-bodied men a few hours hacking away at the statue’s knees to make it keel over. The guards would have caught them before they could have even made a dent.

This vandalism was definitely done by people who had supernatural powers.

“It must have been those humans!” accused one of the Elven guards. “They can’t enter our village, so they’re taking out their frustrations on our ancestors!”

“Stop it,” Lady Farren immediately scolded him. “There’s no use throwing accusations all around. It will only sow conflict with our neighbors, and that’s the exact opposite of what we want.”

The Elven guard pursed his lips, inwardly grumbling to himself.

“Do you have any enemies that would want to do this?” Michael asked.

Lady Farren thought for a second before shaking her head. “We’ve not done anything to deserve hostility from anyone here in New Sparta.”

Michael looked at the stone sculpture shattered on the ground. “Maybe it has something to do with them.”

She bent down and picked up a fractured piece of its head. One could still see the clarity and solemn look in the man’s eyes.

“You said they were your ancestors but…”

“They don’t look like us?” she said, finishing his question. “Yes. That’s because these people aren’t Elves. They’re Ancient Humans.”

Michael stopped for a second, before his gaze scanned the entire garden monument in an entirely new light. When they referred to them as ancestors, they weren’t just talking about their forefathers a couple of generations ago. They were talking about everyone’s ancestors, human, demi-human, and beastfolks alike.

“But why?” he wondered. Were they that filial of a descendant to dedicate an entire garden monument for the Ancient Humans?

And they built this hundreds of thousands away from their kingdom! When they arrived in the Royal Continent and settled in New Sparta, they actively created an entire memorial for the Ancient Humans. Talk about excessive.

Even modern humans, who could be argued as their closest living relatives, didn’t put as much effort or veneration for their memory—certainly not enough to immortalize them into 20 feet tall statues.

“We transported these sculptures all the way from the Elven Kingdom halfway across the world because they are the progenitors of our bloodline. They rode on colossal mounts and mastered the art of archery. They became the first Elves.

And we believe that if we keep them close to our hearts everywhere we go, we can someday inherit the power that they possess.”

No wonder they put so much effort into these monuments. Who wouldn’t want to obtain the powers of an Ancient Human? Even if the chance was slim to none, it was still better than doing nothing.

“Maybe the vandals don’t want you getting those powers,” he guessed.

“But these statues are just symbolic. These corporeal forms are replaceable. Destroying them is meaningless.”

The vandals wouldn’t achieve anything significant by desecrating these statues.

After hearing that, Michael was at a loss as to what the vandals’ true goals were.

Did they simply mean to cause disruption for the sake of it, or was there something sinister underneath all of these ‘harmless’ pranks.

He didn’t know. But there was one thing for sure.

“They won’t stop here.”

Their attacks slowly got closer and closer to the Elven village, the severity slowly increasing in intensity. He wouldn’t be surprised if they began to target the most important locations inside the village.

Important… like where they stored their Darkwood.

“Are they planning to steal Darkwood?” he asked.

Lady Farren seemed to have realized this as well, but she didn’t seem all that worried compared to him.

She quickly turned to Michael. “They can’t,” she said definitively. “I’ll show you why.”

They exited out of the garden monuments, wherein Lady Farren took out her bow and aimed it at one of the houses up on the wide branches of the gargantuan acacia forest.

Then, she shot a stringed arrow on the overhanging edge of the house’s roof.

With the other end of the twine in her hand, she pulled herself upwards and began to shoot up towards the top of the tree.

She offered to take him there, but he declined and flew there instead.

After scaling through the heights of the Elves’ tree houses, he landed on the balcony, with Lady Farren already through the door.

He followed behind her, finding an austere living space that fit Lady Farren’s humble and laidback personality.

Going further inside, he was led down a descending spiral staircase that led into a fully enclosed room that was constructed deep in the heart of the acacia tree.

“This is where we store our most valuable items,” Lady Farren proudly introduced.

Illuminated by glowing vines, Michael saw a neatly arranged storage room filled with a motley collection of Elven items, most he had never even seen before.

He felt as if he walked into a museum.

Walking past a few ancient, decrepit bows, he came face to face with a giant cabinet at the end of the room.

And sitting inside a comfy velvet-lined cushion was an assembly of Darkwood neatly cascaded into rows and columns.

“This place is safe, so I can ask you now. Where did you get your Darkwood?”