Mage Legend

Upon hearing the Empress's helpless answer, Fyyian showed neither joy nor excitement. He dispatched a second Dragon Witch Demon into the sky to counter the Great Druid's assault. Yet, the elf ghosts continued to drift silently over the lake, watching the events at the heart of Heather Lake like spectators.

"Empress, have you foreseen something?" Fyyian asked in confusion, "Why did you leave the barrier of the Holy Mountain to come here and impede my progress?"

"I learned everything from a guest who came to the Holy Land. She was seriously injured after leaving your Undead Tower. I glimpsed parts of her memory. It seems the situation is unfolding exactly as my daughter foresaw seven hundred years ago: the Elf Kingdom stands at a crossroads."

"A crossroads? Do you still believe there is hope here?"

"Hope? Such a thing always exists, yet I am no longer in a position to hope for it. Even if I could send these ghosts back to where they belong, the severely damaged Holy Mountain will not withstand the fishmen's frenzied assault. Although Salantir's elves will eventually drive the fishmen back into the sea, the elven lineage will not break. However, this Holy Mountain is destined to endure this humiliation."

"Is this the intelligence you received from that Dark Elf?" Fyyian chuckled, "The moment elves obsessed over avoiding risks through prophecy, they abandoned themselves to the river of history. Countless legendary glories become trivial in the foreseeable future, and those once gallant elf soldiers are now bards in taverns or theaters. Yet I, a bard, became a Necromancer."

"It is indeed ironic," the Empress said, "Mage Lynch also told me to restore those ancient units to make Salantir strong again."

"Yes, that mage was right," Fyyian thought for a moment and said, "Without the assistance of the undead army, I would struggle to escape his attack. Yet he left a gap in the end, allowing me to reach here safely. I don't know if he did it intentionally, but regardless, I can now sound the death knell for the Elf Sacred Land."

"You cannot occupy this land," Hernfurry said, "The prophecy did not mention that mage named Lynch, and you were supposed to bring countless undead here to eliminate the elves. However, circumstances have changed, and your current power cannot secure the final victory, only serve as a bridge for the fishmen to ascend Heather."

"I understand that," Fyyian suddenly looked up at the sky. The air, once clear, now carried the scent of ash, the smoke from the forest fires of Unicorn Bay. With a more sensitive nose, one might even detect the smell of blood within. In a trance, the smoke drifting above was no longer its original color but gradually turned crimson. This chilly night began to yield to dawn, yet the first beam of sunlight had not yet crested the distant mountains.

"Why did I leave the Elf Kingdom? Perhaps you understand better than I," Fyyian appeared suddenly relieved, his voice calm and relaxed, "She is still in the underground prison of the Undead Tower, and that Dark Elf knows where the tower is. Perhaps you've already learned this information from her memory."

"Yes, I know where that tower is," Hernfurry replied, "So, you've made up your mind to act?"

"As the elves often say, fallen leaves cannot be stopped, just like new buds," Fyyian smiled and then closed his eyes, "Even if I issue the order or activate a spell, I don't think I can avoid the mighty magic of your Elf Queen. Although I have never witnessed Your Majesty's power, I know it will be irresistible for me. Then it will unfold like this. My undead will dismantle the island's defenses thoroughly, and the Elf Warriors will suffer great losses. When my last undead is finally destroyed, the fishmen will occupy the Holy Mountain effortlessly. Flames, death, and destruction, all as plain as stories recorded in the annals of history, or as clear as those musical scores."