Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 790 - 731: The Current Situation of Players

One month later.

Elder Druid Doludo Moonscar stood outside his own front door, just like on countess mornings past, with sunlight nestled in the treetops and Magic Power filled with the scent of nature slapping against his face. Dew lingered on his messy, curly beard, bringing some long-lost tranquility to his somewhat hot-tempered mood. Ever since becoming a Berserker in Dreamland, Doludo couldn’t help but be affected in his daily life. The frailty of his thin body nudged him subconsciously to train, and he inadvertently started toughening up his body, which to the Elves seemed perfectly ordinary. His lover, Falanel, humorously referred to his recent changes as a "midlife second growth spurt," and Doludo was grateful for Falanel’s tolerance. She kept smiling, accepting the increasingly irritable him—a change that Doludo himself felt.

There had been some changes in his life. Doludo glanced at the tree stump turned outdoor dining table in the courtyard, where Falanel had once sat for hours, trying to deal with his increasingly bushy hair, now resembling a lion’s mane. In the end, she gave up and admitted it was the most challenging weed bundle she had ever dealt with, before patiently weaving some sunflowers into Doludo’s braids.

[Darling, you now look hulking like a beast.]

It took Doludo two minutes to analyze his lover’s tone, and he let out a sigh of relief that his marriage hadn’t deteriorated. The Dream Elf had changed during this time, but some habits persisted. Every morning, residents of Dreamwood would step out of their treehouses and enjoy nature amid the morning light, dew, and shade of the trees.

"Bend down." The commanding tone came from behind. Doludo obediently squatted slightly as a deep green robe covered his rock-like muscles. Falanel’s palms glided lightly as the breeze, and she winked playfully when she came into Doludo’s view, "If you grow any larger, I’ll have to prepare an elder’s clothing of a giant’s size for the Harvest Festival." It was a joke, and Doludo was well aware that he was at most the size of a grizzly bear.

"Remember to plant new trees for the ones you’ve chopped down, we already have enough outdoor tables and chairs..." Falanel raised her eyebrows, and her reproachful expression made the burly Berserker feel a bit guilty, "I don’t want to have to explain to the new neighbors that my husband is a Druid, not a Stonemason, understand?"

"Hmm, I’ll do it next time I go to Charles’s place."

Falanel’s face twisted into an odd expression, but Doludo could distinguish the smile. She fiddled with the fastenings on the elder’s robe, an amusement she considered conducive to marital bonding.

"Fannila sent a letter."

Doludo racked his brains, remembering he had such a rebellious daughter.\

"She’s not planning to come back? Heinz has returned home."

Falanel’s attention returned to the leather buckles.

"Our little darling has found herself a lover in that city of magic, a human."

Doludo pondered for a moment.

"What of it? Does she worry I would oppose their union? I am an open-minded father. I advocate for free love. Fannila has grown up; she has the ability to choose her own future, as long as she can bear the human aging and dying sooner. Why are you looking at me like that, dear? I am quite democratic and open-minded!"

Falanel laughed, leaning forward and resting her entire body against Doludo’s chest, mischievously getting close to the Berserker’s nose. The charm in her eyes and brows reminded Doludo of his daughter’s mischievous childhood antics.

"That’s wonderful, dear, because the human Fannila fancies seems to have a girlfriend from the Demon Race."

"Where’s my Berserker’s Axe?" The irritable old father’s defenses crumbled instantly, like an angry lion surveying his territory, with his delicate Elf wife hanging around his neck, her merry laughter akin to a wind chime.

"Here," the competent wife pushed the weapon into Doludo’s hands. He looked at it intently, his expression odd.

"Dear, why are you giving me this broken stick?" The stick that disappointed the Berserker was not actually broken; an emerald stone of beauty was entwined at the top with vines.

"Broken stick? Can’t even recognize your own Druid staff? We have a meeting today with Queen Tiffany and the Elders’ Council, Mr. Moon Mark. Do you really want to enter the meeting dressed like a woodcutter?"

"Oh! No! I completely forgot, dear."

The Moon Crown Council was an annual Elves’ Council held in August, gathering in a huge Banyan Forest brought forth by the Druid elders, where every participant had to spend time and energy navigating the complex roots. Because the meeting site changed every time, only skilled Druids could discern the special marks left on the roots.

Doludo still brought his beloved little axe, which was only ’little’ in a relative sense—the crude stone axe was the size of a grinding wheel, light as a feather in the hands of the Berserker. For Doludo’s current strength, the Druid’s staff was too light; he pinched it in his palm as if holding a large toothpick. He didn’t dare to exert any force, afraid that even a little more might crush it.

Fortunately, he wasn’t the only Dream Elf to face such an awkward plight. His friend Charles stood at the entrance to the council, clad in greenish stone shell armor, looking like an upright, green tortoise. Of course, he remembered the crude handiwork; the Dream Elf tribe didn’t originally have a Stonemason, and both the tortoise-shell armor he was wearing and his own stone axe were the entry-level handiwork of this defender who wielded the power of the earth. Essena stood beside Charles, dressed in a normal Druid robe, comforting him by saying something, while her fingers twinkled with a faint light.

After exchanging greetings with his friends, Essena immediately turned to Doludo for help.

"Convince him for me; he simply refuses to take off this rough stone shell."

"Armor Deficiency Phobia?" Doludo recalled a term that had become popular among students.

The Moonlight Priest sighed, "Let’s just say that, I don’t believe all defender players have it as severely as he does. This is the Moon Crown Council, and I don’t want the most venerable Elders of the Dream Elves to discover that General Charles, the war Druid, has become a stone ball, especially when I am standing by his side."

Charles Nightingale began to defend himself.

"You don’t understand, Essena! I can’t take off this armor! Without it, it’s too light; I’ve never felt gravity so feeble, without it, I might shoot up into the sky!"

"It’s okay, I’ll hold you tight. If you go up, I’ll pull you down like a balloon," The Priestess of the Moon realized the men around her were fools, she didn’t need to explain the wonders of nature to them, cajoling them would suffice.

"No, that won’t do. You’re just a light and crispy Priestess; you can’t hold me down. Doludo, you came just in time, you’re sturdy, you hold me, don’t let me fly away!"

The Priestess of the Moon felt that she must have been blind before; now all she could think of was how to launch this fool to the moon. Not wanting to bother further, Essena reached out a hand for rescue towards Doludo. 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Doludo, suddenly understanding, approached quickly.

"Thank you, Essena."

The Priestess of the Moon looked at the emerald stone staff in her hand and fell silent.