Her emerald green eyes reflected a thin golden trajectory as it fell into the horizon. A wind blew in the forest, and the shadows of the canopy in the distance surged and the leaves danced.
The leaves of the March laurel fell on the balcony and blew into the inner palace.
Light flowed into the main hall, illuminating the marble pillars.
Eleranta watched all this quietly, while the left and right quietly looked at their Great Sage. This seemed to be faintly announcing the end of an era, but few people understood what it meant.
After a moment of silence, the former suddenly walked down the steps, the hem of her silk robe spreading across the marble floor. She turned around and said to the two Popes of Fanzin:
"Your Majesties, it is time. The prophecy of the past is now. Perhaps we will be destroyed, or the world will be reborn, but mortals will have the power to decide."
The Great Sage bowed slightly and said: "Your Majesties, please lend me a hand."
"This is our duty," the former Pope hurriedly replied: "Please rest assured, the Empire will always follow the will of Lord Fanzin, Great Sage."
The current Pope also added: "The envoy is already on the way, Great Sage," but he was a little hesitant: "But I am worried about the Wind Elves."
"They will agree, they have a thousand-year-old monarch now." Eleranta smiled gently, as if thinking of an old friend.
She turned around and walked out of the balcony, the wind pulling at her robe. There seemed to be an invisible door outside the balcony, and when she walked through the door, her figure gradually faded.
Then it gradually disappeared.
In many places in the Wilderness of the Four Realms and the Starry Forest, the disaster had completely changed the elegant and calm attitude of the natives.
A meteorite fell on Quillings, destroying half of the court that the Wind Elves were so proud of. The whole city fell into a hellish situation, and cries and screams resounded through the sky.
At the highest point of the Temple of Star and Moon, looking into the darkness in the distance, the city was full of sparks and thick pillars of smoke.
The elves all looked at this scene with solemn expressions.
But Saint-ausol the Wind Empress, who was standing in front of the twelve-pillared hall, looked calm. Twenty-four Knights stood quietly beside her. The Hunter siblings, who were dressed in elven attire, followed behind her. Until today, they were still not used to the elven attire, which was considered decent by the elves.
The current King of Corona followed behind these people in fear and trepidation. He was unwilling to give up, but there was nothing he could do. He only heard the Sage saying to the envoy not far away in a firm tone, "Don't worry about it.
"The Wind Elves will ally with Fanzin."
"My Lord." The envoy's voice was trembling. He had never dreamed that he would actually meet a Sage. That was such an honor, the most noble existence in a thousand years. "I will convey your every word," he replied respectfully.
The elven lady nodded. "Go back and tell your Emperor to prepare for war. This war may decide the fate of all of us."
Her voice drifted away with the wind, as if it had drifted from the forest to a place further away. There were mountains and rivers, plains and lakes. It crossed the straits, crossed the peninsula that broke out into thousands of miles of raging waves, and followed the seasonal wind called 'verdant', followed the sea currents, and came to a place called Roshar.
The wind whistled all year round, rolling up sand and stones through the canyon, carving out countless strange pillars in the sand. In the huge and strange palace on the cliff, the shadow of a dragon danced. In one of the rooms of the thousands of palaces, a young golden dragon was resting his chin on the windowsill, looking at this scene in boredom.
"Aloz!" The voice of the elder came from outside the door.
The little female dragon grabbed a golden cup and threw it out. There was a series of clinking sounds outside the hall. The elder's voice became flustered. "Damn it, you attacked the members of the Senate again. If this goes on, you won't be able to reach adulthood, Aloz!"
"It's for you." Aloz pouted. Her huge body turned into human form in a burst of golden light. She used her hand to fiddle with her huge curly hair, her golden eyes were full of bored colors.
She had been locked up for months.
"You dare to bribe a member of the Senate!"
"Don't come again."
"Then I'll accept it. I just want to tell you that accepting bribes is something even in the dragon race … Oh my god, you've smashed my beloved golden cup. If I'm not mistaken, this is the collection of Otto the Second …" The voice outside the door made a fuss.
An old man with a white beard that dragged on the ground came in with a golden cup. As he walked, he stroked a dent in the golden cup and sighed.
"I have good news for you, Aloz."
"You have to tell me first, what's with the chaos outside?"
"I don't know. Maybe Lady Ovanlos is summoning the Dragon Council." The little old man looked around. "Where's Flora?"
"She's angry with me. I gave her earring to a mortal."
"Oh." The little old man replied nonchalantly. The relationship between the dragons was very messy. Otherwise, there would not be so many dragon descendants in the mortal world. "You're an adult, Aloz."
"What did you say!"
The little female dragon almost thought that she had heard wrongly. Then she screamed and jumped three feet high. She rushed over like a whirlwind and excitedly grabbed the latter's white beard.
"What's going on? Say it again?"
"Oh my god, let go!" The little old man shouted in exasperation. He reached out and flicked his hand. Aloz flew out like a cannonball and crashed through one of the walls of the palace. She crawled back out of the smoke and dust with difficulty. She looked at the old man with a dusty face and stuck out her tongue.
"What's going on, Lord Tulleworth?"
"The Holy Temple suddenly received a promise from Bahamut. From today onwards, the younger generation of the dragons will directly become adults. When you have your coming of age ceremony, you can directly feel the ancient will."
Aloz's golden eyes lit up. "The gods are back again?"
"That's not it. This promise is not known if it came from outside the Elemental Frontier, or if it was left behind before. The priests are already in an uproar and are investigating." The little old man replied.
The little female dragon licked her lips. "So, there's a war?"
The latter nodded.
Aloz raised her head and looked through the window. The shadow of the dragons was passing over the sky. In the Holy Temple of the dragons, a majestic voice was echoing repeatedly.
"Go to Cruz —!"
… …
Brando, Freya, where are you …?
A small, fearful voice suddenly flashed across Gwendolyn's mind. The dragon queen paused and abruptly turned to look behind her, puzzled. There, the entire street was ablaze, with embers darting out from every window and door. Sparks rose and danced amidst the thick smoke.
From time to time, the sound of buildings collapsing could be heard. Creaking sounds were heard, but the small voice seemed to be an illusion and never appeared again. She narrowed her eyes, and her pupils reflected the road surface that was illuminated by the fire. It was as if all the water had evaporated from the soil. The hot air flowed through the streets, and the air seemed to be distorted, forming sparkling ripples.
The high temperature did not make Gwendolyn feel uncomfortable. Humans often rumored that dragons lived in volcanoes because dragons flew in the sky and burned everything in their path. Although this theory was full of low-level fallacies in the eyes of scholars, it was not a big deal.
Ice and fire, air and earth. It was an extreme elemental environment for mortals, but dragons could draw nutrients from it. That was why humans would often find their traces in extreme environments such as volcanoes and icy peaks, swamps and mountains, leading to such misunderstandings. And for an adult dragon like Gwendolyn, it would not be a big deal even if she were to roll around in magma.
Of course, unless their brains were fried, they would not really do that.
Dragons also pursued comfort and a good living environment, just like how they pursued wealth. In comparison, their ecology was more similar to the merchants of Moria: greedy, selfish, and greedy for pleasure.
A dragon like Gwendolyn was considered an anomaly among the dragons.
Just like how their own kind did not understand why they were always running around outside, there was only one reason for dragons to run around: to kidnap a princess of a kingdom and extort the king's treasury.
Gwendolyn's gaze carefully searched every corner. She was a meticulous person — or perhaps a meticulous dragon. Years of living had cultivated such meticulousness, but she still found nothing.
"An illusion?"
The dragon queen frowned and looked at the square before her. It was the Twelve Months Square.
The square was designed and built in the Year of the Return of Radiance. The designer was the dwarven master craftsman Hozzoth Steelaxe. Of course, the square had been changed and rebuilt over a thousand years. Even if the designer himself climbed out of his grave and came here, he might not recognize his masterpiece.
Not to mention the square at this moment. Even the street guards from the day before might not recognize it.
The ground in the square was blood-red, just like the hills and basins that Gwendolyn saw in Bilord. The soil was rich in some kind of metal element, and the ground was bright red.
However, the ground had cracked under the high temperature, like a dry field. The dragon queen walked slowly on the dried blood scabs, and the sound of cracking bones sounded like she was stepping on broken bones.
The statue of Duke Knight Duke Duke had completely collapsed from its pedestal. The stone statue lay in pieces in the middle of the square. His head and left arm were by the fountain, while his torso and lower body were in the middle of the square. The warhorse lay at the bottom of the dry pool, its right hand still holding a longsword, the tip of which was pointed at a charred skeleton not far away.
Gwendolyn walked across the square and came to the skeleton. She saw the tree-shaped pendant hanging on the neck of the skeleton, and pulled it off with her hand.
At this moment, the skeleton moved slightly. Its upper and lower jaws shook, and the charred vocal cords let out a hoarse and weak voice.
"Save me … My lady, save me."
"Is the ritual a success?"
"It's a success … My lady, save me."
Gwendolyn looked back. The blood pattern in the center of the square was in the shape of a whirlpool. The charred corpses were scattered around the center of the whirlpool. She saw a few footprints, leaving towards the northeast.
"You did well."
"Save me … My lady."
Gwendolyn smiled and put her hand on its head. "No …" The charred man screamed unwillingly.
"Why should you be afraid? Death is the best redemption."
"Why … My lady?" The latter trembled in fear.
Gwendolyn's golden eyes looked at him with pity. "No one will die in vain. The dead need justice."
"No … You will go to hell too!"
The voice stopped abruptly.
The dragon queen silently threw the bishop's corpse away. "Yes, I will go to hell too. Soon," she replied softly.
But it was all worth it.
She turned back and looked at the dancing sea of fire. It was as if she saw a quiet and confident figure in the flames. That figure looked at her silently through the fire.
"I'm sorry. We have no other choice. This is the fate of the mortal world."
Gwendolyn sighed.
The long passage of time had caused life itself to lose its meaning. For beings with eternal life, emotions seemed to have become weak. Only the eternal goal at the end of the long path attracted their attention.
She had seen many mortals. The short lives of mortals were like the snap of a finger in her eyes. Their existence and death were but the blink of an eye.
She would more or less recall it, but the feeling of sympathy had long since disappeared.
But there would always be kindness and innocence that would move the heart.
If it was possible …
Unfortunately, she could not give up all of this for anyone. When she inherited this bloody legacy from the hands of her predecessors, she had already understood this in her heart.
She had to be responsible for everyone who had sacrificed themselves for this over the past ten thousand years. Even if they were unwilling, it was not important.
If the Tree Herders could succeed, then everything would be worth it.
She left the bishop who was no longer breathing, turned and walked towards the northeast. Soon, she found the corpse of a giant wolf in the sea of fire.
It was the Son of Fenrir.
But the latter's stomach had been cut open, and its internal organs were all over the ground. Half the street was filled with the beast's foul and smelly blood. The Dragon Queen came to the corpse, squatted down, and reached out her hand to search its stomach for a long time. Then, she retracted her bloody hand.
"No heart."
She nodded in satisfaction.
But this action suddenly froze.
"Brando, Freya, where are you …?"
A somewhat frightened and small voice asked in her heart.
"Who is it?"
The Dragon Queen stood up and looked around with a vigilant gaze. The sea of fire around the square crackled and burned, but no one answered her question.
Other than the sound of burning, there was no other sound.
But it was at this moment that the voice sounded again. It was ethereal, like the sobbing of a ghost.
"Brando, Freya, where are you, I'm so scared …?"
…
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