Mage Legend

"Yes, things will develop in that direction," the Empress said, "Then the other elves of Salantir will gather and eradicate the Fishmen in Heather. Although this Holy Mountain can no longer radiate its former glory, the elves will continue to exist."

"But this is so uninspired!" Fyyian said, "I awakened the elves with blood and hardship, making those who were immersed in endless happiness refocus on this world. Your Majesty, look with your own eyes, do those ghostly elves behind me really possess any difference?"

Her Majesty did not raise her eyes to look at those ghosts but kept her attention on Fyyian's movements.

"I dislike things that are stagnant, just as I loathe prophecies that determine everything," Fyyian said, "Since the prophecy that 'I will destroy the Elf Kingdom' has already been broken, I think you also understand that such prophecies are merely illusions. Having destroyed 'those elves', now there's nothing else I yearn for."

The ghostly elves suddenly retreated, neatly bypassing the area of the Holy Lake, drifting to the west of Heather, and then disappearing into the dense forest.

The Elf Queen looked at these actions in confusion, halting the spell energy gathering in her hands.

"They will cleanse those Fishmen," Fyyian said, almost as if a poet were casually singing a lyrical tune, "The elves will hold onto this Holy Mountain, but things will not end so simply."

"What do you mean? What do you know?" the Empress asked anxiously.

"I know a lot, but I won't reveal it," Fyyian's eyes gazed northward, then he sighed, "If an Undead Magic Bead can topple the Elf Kingdom, then I suppose there'd be no suspense for the ensuing war. My life is to play a score whose continuation cannot be known. Even if what's behind is noise and clamor, it's not controlled by any force."

"Is this what you seek? I've seen some terrifying scenes in the prophecies. At that time, can the elves living in this world still hold onto hope?"

"Hope, like prophecy, is the last straw for the dying," Fyyian said, "If someone who can truly change fate appears, then hope still exists; if the elves can show their mightiest form, then hope exists. But now, the elves only escaped disaster with the help of humans or even the Drow. Will there be such good fortune next time?"

The Empress fell silent.

"I hate this Holy Land," Fyyian said, "It's a dreamland, but also the land where reality is buried. Everything is flawless perfection, which is the biggest flaw. Now the power of space and the force of prophecy have already fallen into that person's hands, what kind of power will be next? The future has finally become unclear, but at last has returned to the original definition of 'future.' I will watch the unfolding of events with my own eyes, no longer waiting for a predetermined conclusion."

After speaking, he threw the Undead Magic Bead to the Elf Queen and then leaped from the back of the Dragon Witch Demon, disappearing into the waters of the Erutalon River.

Below the constantly surging waves, a shadow silently rose. Although the Holy River's current always tried to suppress this strange entity, it still struggled to emerge above the water. A black hand made of twisted bones opened its five fingers and reached out to the lake's surface. In the palm, a black eyeball stared in the direction of the Holy Tree. The light of dawn shone upon it but failed to leave a trace of brightness on it.

The Dragon Witch Demon roared loudly, flapping its wings as it departed the original spot. They flew toward the western forest, joining the slaughter of the Fishmen, just like those ghostly elves.

"So this is what you've always pursued, something different from others," Hernfurry said, "If you can still hear me, then I'll tell you: Your soul is unlike any other I have seen in this world."

Nosta finally broke free from the entanglement of the Dragon Witch Demon, flying to the side of the Elf Queen. He looked at the bony hand, gasping for breath as he watched the lake's surface, carefully on guard against any potential attack from Fyyian.

"Great Druid, command the elven guard to start the counterattack against the Fishmen," the Empress said, her eyes now replacing her usual gentleness with a resolute glow, "These wicked creatures, since they set foot on the land of the Elf Kingdom, don't need to leave again."