Mage Legend

With her abilities restored, Yilinrui couldn't quite describe her emotions; her two souls struggled bitterly. One belonged to the Prophesy Saintess revered infinitely by her elf kin, the other to Yilinrui, a princess who lived silently with no accomplishments. She once believed Lynch would be "the one destined for her," but now everything indicated that this human would not tread along anyone's fate. Her eyes clearly captured the path of Lynch's movements after he became invisible. Wherever she could not see, there lay the Mage.

Moreover, the man driven away from the Elf Forest due to her prophecy re-entered Yilinrui's memories. The difficult choice between two paths left her at a loss. She couldn't say what she should do, just mechanically following the Mage's lead, trailing behind him.

Lynch lingered in Residual Star Swamp, surveying everywhere; Yilinrui waited at the edge of this wetland. When the Mage discovered her and approached her, the elf truly didn't know what to say.

"Perhaps Lynch could never truly recognize who stands before him," Yilinrui thought.

Suddenly, Lynch vanished before her eyes, without warning, leaving the princess no time to react. It was as if he had left this world all at once, and no matter how intently Yilinrui focused, she couldn't find any trace of him.

"Could it be that only now has he truly escaped the track of fate?" Yilinrui pondered. "When no prophet can discover him, is that when he's truly free?"

As the elf gradually calmed down, her thoughts began to clear. She closed her eyes and started to sense the activities around her. The entire Salantir was within her vision. After more than seven hundred years of rest, her abilities had advanced a step further.

Without relying on the help of a Beacon, she had already seen her mother's last prophecy. To the north, beyond the Ridge Mountains to the tundra, will be the turning point of everything.

And on the edge of the Elf Forest, she saw the tower where the undead army resided. Countless Holy Relics from the Death World were poised, ready to increase the number of their kind at any moment. And following their gaze outward, a great fire would consume Heather to ashes. The Holy Tree would turn into a withered wood, the great lake into a swamp, and the elves would also become rotting bones beneath an overcast sky. Everything was no different than what was seen seven hundred years ago.

She left Residual Star Swamp, determined and swiftly headed toward where the undead gathered. Along the way, she encountered no obstructions because she was using her fully unleashed ability, known as "The Eyes Beyond the Elf Queen," to avoid enemies that might interfere with her path. She was firmly convinced she could arrive intact before that high tower.

Yet in her heart, she hoped a ghost would rise and tear her apart. That way, she could prove what she saw with her eyes could be changed, and Heather's fate would not unfold as she foresaw.

However, she still stood beneath the Undead Tower. The putrid smell nearly suffocated her, and the twisted, eerie architecture stung her eyes. Yet all of this was not as distressing as the near despairing gloom in her heart.

"Master of the Undead Tower, appear before me now!" she shouted. Although Yilinrui had long known the commander of the undead army, the name of that elf remained deeply buried in her memory. Even though her powers had been restored, she still couldn't recall that name.

Perhaps, seven hundred years ago, she decided to seal that name forever.

The undead only then discovered the unexpected visitor outside the tower—a mere elf who had managed to find this hidden place. Ghosts and vampires flew menacingly before her, emitting ear-piercing screams, playfully tugging at her hair. Skeletons and zombies also emerged from the soil, slowly converging here, hoping to catch a morsel of warm flesh after the other undead had torn her apart. Only some Banshees floated in the air, appearing unhurried. Perhaps even amid their mesmerizing faces, these shape-shifting Banshees would once again feel pangs of self-pity.

A figure leapt out of the tower window, effortlessly bypassing the circle of vampires. Only when the undead were closing in on Yilinrui did a gap appear in their defense. With just a few leaps, the figure escaped into the Elf Forest, with agility that even elves would envy.

The ghosts were furious, swarming after, employing the most ruthless methods to capture the "fugitive" ahead, to make amends for their oversight.

"No need to pursue!" a hoarse voice boomed from the tower. Yilinrui thought the tone resembled dry wind sweeping over barren dunes.

The gate of the Undead Tower slowly opened, and an elf devoid of his original appearance emerged slowly. His steps were slightly unsteady, perhaps his leg was injured. However, he still walked with great elegance and composure, without any hesitation or doubt, as if everything was already within his grasp.

"Welcome, Holy Maiden of the Elf Clan." he said, "My name is Fyyian, the current master of the Undead Tower."

Yilinrui squinted, Fyyian's fate was as bright and clear as sunlight after the rain. He would lead the undead into the Holy Mountain Heather, turning it to ashes. Then, this Undead Lord would be reduced to ash in silver flames.

At the edge of Yilinrui's vision, a black cloud slowly expanded. Wherever the cloud covered, it left the range of her prophetic power. Yilinrui only had time to glance at the source of the black mist when a sudden intense headache attacked her.

She let out a painful moan, took a step back, and held her right hand to her forehead, beads of sweat pouring after a few buzzing noises in her ears. She stubbornly refocused her vision on Fyyian but could see nothing.

"You will have no ability to see our future! This is what my master promised: to bring new fate to this world." Fyyian's hands trembled violently, like a child who had received a beloved gift, unable to control his emotions: "A future that no prophecy can sway, the true path of freedom!"

Yilinrui slowly adjusted her breathing, calling upon the power of nature in her heart to heal the pain in her mind. Although she had ceaselessly offered her devotion to the Elf Goddess, after sealing her memories, she was an unyielding Druid. Although the natural forces in this undead-tainted land were very weak, they were enough to soothe her pain.

"Fyyian, why are you doing this?" Yilinrui said, "As an elf, do you really want to destroy Heather?"

Fyyian took a step back, as if hit by a heavy hammer in the chest. He looked at Yilinrui with some confusion, as if seeing the elf woman for the first time. The surrounding undead felt uneasy, and withdrew from the encircling circle at the fastest speed, distancing themselves from their master. The once noisy tower quieted down.

Fyyian said nothing, just took a mirror from his pocket, held it before his already ruined face, curling his body as he kept examining it. Then, he looked up at Yilinrui.

"Do you really not know why?" Fyyian said hoarsely, "I remember you understood everything long ago."

"Actually, what I hope for is exactly what you desire." he stood straight, adding.

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What's up with the server today? I couldn't log into the author section. Sorry for the late update, everyone.