Before Yaruta left, he felt the uneasiness in his heart again.
He looked back at his sister, Peya, and the King of Lorindale.
In the corridor ahead, the tall French arched windows were lined with each other, and the soft sunlight shone through the glass on the ground, leaving a bright mark every few meters. Through the light, dust fluttered, and light and shadow intertwined to form a deep space. At the end of the corridor, it seemed to lead to an unknown world.
And Isdoville looked at him calmly, and his thin face was more serious than ever.
"Go, Your Highness," he said.
"But I … don't know if I can do it …" Yaruta was a little afraid, and because of this, he shrank back.
Isdoville said to him, "The King of Saint-Ausol must make his own decisions."
"… But what if it's wrong?" Yaruta asked.
"Here's how we go about doing something. We think it over and over again in advance, and then we make up our minds. Once we've made up our minds, we have to show the courage to take responsibility for it," said Isdowell. "No one can avoid making mistakes, but they can't be muddle-headed. Have you thought it over, Your Highness?"
"I have, Mr. Isdoville. I think Brother Brando's decision is right. In this common war, we should be more united, shouldn't we?"
"So you've made up your mind?"
Yaruta nodded thoughtfully.
"Then if you're wrong, you'll be criticized for it. Are you afraid of criticism?" Isdoville asked.
"No, I'm not afraid, Mr. Isdoville," Yaruta said. "Because I believe our starting point is right. Even if there is a setback for a while, it won't be because of the resolution itself. I'll find the root of the problem and correct it. I'm not afraid of difficulties, because difficulties can always be overcome. "
The King of Lorindale couldn't help but be infected by the boy's spirit. It's always good to be simple. Perhaps he will encounter many things in the future and find that the world is not as simple as he thought. But as long as there is this heart, then all difficulties can always be overcome.
"In that case, what else do you have to worry about, Your Highness?" he asked again.
Yaruta's eyes dimmed. "But I am your crown prince, am I not? Aren't you worried that I am close to Mr. Brando? Do you think that your future king will listen to an outsider and put the interests of Saint-Ausol before the interests of other countries? Is that why he made such a decision? "
After hearing this question, Isdoville laughed and said, "Your Highness, the elves are not ungrateful people."
He looked at the human youth with even more admiration in his eyes. "The fact that you can say these words today proves that you are the same as us. Wind Empress's insight is indeed extraordinary."
But Yaruta still didn't quite understand what the Elf Lord meant.
Isdoville continued, "Your Highness, do you really think that Count Tónigel made the right choice?"
To this, Yaruta nodded without hesitation.
"That's enough," Isdoville replied loudly. "As long as you think it's really right, you can go ahead and do it. The elves will be behind you as your solid backing."
Hearing this answer, Yaruta was stunned.
The attitude of the King of Lorindale was completely beyond his expectations.
And his sister, the huntress Peya, came up as if no one else was around. As the daughter of the mountain people, she didn't have much to say, and just silently put the Sacred Ring of the Wind Empress in the palm of her brother's hand. Although silent, her soft eyes had contained all the words she wanted to say to her brother. It was a traditional and tenacious quality that the mountain people had adhered to for generations.
It was simple, but it was beautiful.
Yaruta held the Sacred Ring in his hand, and the ring shone brightly in the darkness. The elves looked at this scene, and the long line bent down one by one, like a silver wave, on both sides of the promenade, facing the future king forward. The youth looked at this scene, and suddenly a trickle of warmth flowed through his heart. It was like a whisper whispering in his ear, the glory and faith of this Elf Kingdom for thousands of years, it was an ancient recognition.
The youth felt a little bitter at the corner of his eyes, and he gently raised his hand and wiped it with the back of his hand.
He swore that he would not let anyone down.
… …
Everything was coming to an end.
Veronica looked at the hands that were raised like a mountain forest, and the depression and disappointment in her heart became more and more pervasive.
It was true that no one in this world would want to die, and in the face of death, everyone was equally fearful. Especially after the hot blood had dissipated, there was only the instinct to live. This was also the need for the continuation of any race, and perhaps it was not shameful.
But compared to death, what was more terrible was the loss of hope. A mortal's life, compared to the long history, was like a moment. Conferring the title of wife and children, and achieving success and fame were the needs of life, but when death came, everything returned to nothingness. Then for thousands of years, people seemed to repeat this process repeatedly in their busy lives. What was the point of existence?
There were very few people who had doubts about their life.
This was because civilizations and races composed of individuals were built on countless gravel. Gravel came and went, empires rose and fell, honor and disgrace, and history moved forward, but it eventually left a mark. The people of the mortal world changed the world and the future little by little. Perhaps everyone was repeating the process from life to death, but today and tomorrow were different after all. Perhaps the future and hope were the ultimate answer to this question.
However, at this moment, this answer had lost its meaning.
In her disappointment, Veronica heard a noble next to her choking, "Thank God, I can finally leave this damned place. I'm scared every day, afraid that one day I'll never see my family again. As long as the elves allow us to enter, I'll immediately take my family and move to Cororis. If the Twilight Dragon attacks that place, I'll find a way to go to the Nine Phoenix … "
Veronica turned around and saw the tear-stained noble. She did not know what kind of mood made her ask the other party, "After the Nine Phoenix, where will we go?"
The noble could not answer and was stunned for a moment.
Veronica saw this and shook her head. She suddenly felt a little dispirited. She separated the crowd and walked out, wanting to leave this place. But at a glance, she saw Duke Ludwig still sitting not far away. It was sad to say that the other party was the first to stand firmly against her, but in the vote, he unexpectedly chose to abstain.
Duke Ludwig sat in his seat at a loss. He wanted to reach for his pocket watch several times, but his hands were trembling so badly that he could only grab empty air.
Veronica looked at this person and understood that perhaps between the two ways of hanging, the latter had chosen the crueler way. He had obliterated her hope.
But perhaps the others could leave with more dignity because of this.
Even though Veronica wanted to say something, in front of Duke Ludwig who seemed to have aged ten years in an instant, she found it difficult to speak. She felt a sense of suffocation in her heart. Staying in this fortress might not be the right choice, but where was the right choice?
Could it be that she had lost all hope?
She could stay here and die generously.
But what about the others?
At the corner of the round table, Great Druid Gray Fury saw this scene and shook his head. He got up and left his seat.
The craftsmen wizards of the Silver Alliance were also leaving. Although they did not express any opinions from the beginning, the wizards were only discussing with each other, shaking their heads from time to time. There were few smiles on their faces.
Only the representatives of the Highlanders and the Highlanders were still sitting in their seats, looking at the representatives of Silver Bay on the other side as if it had nothing to do with them. These small nobles were discussing whether they should stay or leave. More importantly, how should the allied forces of Silver Bay be saved?
The people of Fanzin also got up and tidied up the various parchments on the table. Behind them, the envoys of the various states of White City had left earlier and were walking out in groups. The hall was noisy, and some people even nodded at Great Druid Gray Fury.
But then —
The Wind Elves in the hall who had been watching coldly from the sidelines suddenly stood up in unison and looked towards the south door of the hall.
Veronica was about to leave when she noticed that not far away, Duke Ludwig, who had been oblivious to the changes in his surroundings, had a look of surprise on his face. He stood up shakily from his seat and looked straight behind her.
She subconsciously turned around.
Many people were also turning around …
The Bugas stopped outside the north door, and the envoys of the various states of White City were blocked behind them. Both sides were turning around and looking in this direction.
The people who were still in their seats stopped what they were doing. The people of Fanzin looked at their colleagues, and the representatives of Silver Bay looked at each other. Great Druid Gray Fury slowed down his steps and turned around, looking in their direction with some surprise.
'Crack!' A light sound was heard.
The door to the south was pushed open with a creaking sound.
The hall fell silent for a moment, because people saw rows of Elven Guards in silver armor and winged helmets pouring in from outside the door and escorting a human youth into the hall.
All the Wind Elves in the hall bowed subconsciously at this moment.
But what they bowed to was not the human youth.
It was the thing in the youth's hand.
It was a ring —
Under everyone's gaze, Yaruta walked down the stairs with the Holy Ring in his hand and came to the round table where the elven representatives were sitting. He raised his head and looked at all the nobles in the hall, then raised the ring and gently placed it on the table.
On the ring, the nine-patterned Sacred Emblem of Saint-Ausol shone in the dim light in the center of the hall.
"The Ring of the Wind Empress!"
Someone with sharp eyes recognized him and blurted out in surprise.
Veronica's gaze froze, and she felt her heart beat faster. Not far away, the Great Druid's face also showed surprise.
Yaruta looked at everyone present.
Hundreds of pairs of eyes were also focused on the son of the former hunter.
But there was no sign of retreat in the youth's heart. On the contrary, there was only infinite courage surging in his chest. Because today, he understood what he was going to do.
It represented a promise that had not been realized for a thousand years. A thousand years later, it would be realized again in the hands of the descendants of the Mist Elves, in the hands of today's Wind Elves.
A long-overdue promise.
Yaruta said quietly, "The Wind Elves of Saint-Ausol are willing to stay and guard this fortress."
The voice that echoed over the hall was not loud, and it even sounded a little childish.
But every word weighed a thousand pounds.
He looked at the seats of the Cruz people, and the hall was so quiet that a pin drop could be heard. The Cruz nobles were stunned — are these elves crazy? The Bugas stopped whispering to each other, and beside them, the Great Druid sat back in his seat thoughtfully, as if waiting for something.
Only the Wind Elves stared at the ring, and then looked at their future king with a serious expression.
Yaruta spoke again, "Then former allies, the descendants of the Flame King, where are they today? Do you still remember your oath?"
Veronica subconsciously wanted to separate the crowd and return to her seat — how could the Cruz people break their promise? Even if it was in her own name, she must stay and fight side by side with the elves.
But before she could open her mouth, a clear and powerful voice had already answered for her.
"The Cruz people are here-"
"Who's talking?"
"Who dares to represent the Cruz people without authorization!"
A noble councilor stood up, shaking his fat head and looking around, trying to find the person who spoke.
But his words were immediately stuck in his throat.
The crowd was parting left and right, automatically making a path — in the middle of that path, the heavily armored Flame Family Knight stood opposite each other, and sixteen Knights escorted a girl into the hall.
The blonde girl also held up a ring in her hand.
But it was more like a flame, the golden flame ring was burning on her hand.
Someone in the crowd swallowed, "The Holy Ring of Fire …"
Vahina walked down the stairs step by step and came to the round table.
She looked at the young hunter in front of her.
Then she solemnly put the ring in her hand on the table, raised her head and replied to the Wind Elves, "The two rings bear witness to this oath, the Cruz people are willing to fight side by side with former allies."
The elves nodded.
"We may have had a grudge," behind Yaruta, Isdoville, the King of Lorindale, replied, "but today it's all written off, we were comrades a thousand years ago, and it's the same today."
"By the Holy Ring —"
The elves replied in unison.
Yaruta looked at the noble daughter with some admiration, he also raised the Holy Ring of the Wind Empress, and replied with the same solemnity, "By the Holy Ring —"
In mid-air.
Two Holy Rings that were shining brightly.
Facing each other.
Everything was like the scene a thousand years ago.
"It's a pity that there are only two …" The Great Druid looked at this scene and could not help but sigh.
Perhaps the era of the Seven Precepts had long been a thing of the past.
At the top of the city of Candlebell, the defense line of the Silver Bay Coalition Army was falling apart.
But the real despair in the hearts of the people did not come from the overwhelming Dusk Army — Blank stood behind the battlements with a solemn face, beside him, Nun Princess Magadal was covering her mouth, looking at the scene in horror.
It was a gigantic black sphere that was revealing itself outside Canderbell City.
"Martha above, what the hell is that …"
White Mountain.
The Wind Elves and the Vampires stood facing each other, the twenty-six representatives looked at each other, pulled out chairs, and sat on both sides of a long table.
After looking at both sides for a moment, the clerk quietly picked up a quill and wrote the first sentence on the parchment.
"An era has passed …"
The huge Silver Dragon flapped its wings and landed on the ruins of a city. Delfien was the first to jump down from the Silver Dragon's back. She landed on the ground, other than the Buga envoy who came to greet her, she also saw two unexpected people.
Huang Huo and Fang Qi stood facing each other, the former looked at her and smiled.
"You're here, Miss Delfien …"
Fanzin's Eastern Border, Great Glacier.
The Elven Queen looked at the ice mountain shining with purple light in the distance.
Her people, the Wild Elf Army, were falling in waves on the way to attack. Fanzin's Knight had gathered into a torrent, but they were still unable to tear a hole in the Noh Race's defense line.
Suddenly, a purple light flashed in the sky. She looked up in the cold wind, as if she suddenly realized something.
"It has finally begun, the final battle that has been going on for a thousand years …"
Erouine, Lighthouse Citadel.
In the underground black prison, the girl looked up at the only ray of light that shone down from the ceiling. Her hands and feet were shackled with heavy iron shackles, and with the slightest movement, the iron chains locked on the wall rattled.
After a moment, she closed her eyes silently.
She was no stranger to darkness.
Rosy blood dripped along the cold metal.
"Brando …"
…
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