Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 866 - 806: Romantic Lady

"In my name, Heinz Star-Song! I judge thee wretches for the crime of disrespect. You shall be exiled from my lands, banished to the Barren Wasteland, until dead wood springs anew and the throne changes hands!"

"Disappear from my forest before the new moon rises, otherwise, be buried here."

The rustling leaves echoed the queen’s judgment through the forest, and the tender young leaves fell from the branches. Having just ended a war, the Elves peering out from their homes lowered their heads again. Nature has four seasons, and now they must face the winter of the queen. The Elves knelt, praying to the distinguished lady, praying the frost would not descend upon their heads, not to share the same fate as Heinz Star-Song.

To all Elves, this verdict was heavy, for Lady Faelga, revered by Elves as the Eternal Blossom, was believed to have a reign that would last until life’s demise.

For she is the will of the forest, a lady of compassion and indifference. Her beauty is undying and sultry as fire, just as formidable as her power. Without clear declaration, many had equated Faelga with their faith, believing her to be an existence equivalent to the changing moon, a peer to the Earth Mother God. When she is pleased, the forest flourishes into spring; when angered, frost descends.

The heart of the forest, the Royal Court.

The shattered marble made this place resemble a ruin. Fragments of delicately carved stone embedded in the grass, the canopy merging with banyan trees, vines of Moonlight Flower emerging through holes in stone walls. The plants seemed more the master of this structure than the Elves. The slightly titled throne, intertwined with blue-violet morning glory on stone steps, claspers gripping at tapestries, re-embroidering the royal emblem.

At this moment, the courtiers had gathered, whether Druids from the Elders’ Council or guards of the Royal Court, clearly divided the hall, with war-weary generals closest to the throne, their armors hanging broken, temple priests mending their cracked wounds. Priests and wildflowers alike were the least restrained.

The once-noisy Elves also received the queen’s judgment on Heinz, knelt down, listening to the decree. General Charles furrowed his brows, kneeling on one knee under the furious gaze of Priestess Essena, the extensive movements causing his leg wound to reopen, the scent of blood attracting the flowers around his feet.

In front of the warriors stood two unusual Elves, one tall and the other small. The leading handsome Elf stood proudly, his luxurious silk velvet akin to a peacock in full display, unconcerned about the Elves’ scrutiny, gazing straight ahead. The younger Elf stood like a soldier behind the man, astonishing in his youth and incredibly composed contrary to his tender appearance.

Moonlight Flower raised its head, silver-blue light gradually filling the hall, Elves lowered their heads in this dreamlike scene, standing Elves slowly knelt down, he restrainedly turned his head towards the center of the Royal Court.

The sound of silk rubbing against skin rhythmically arose as Faelga walked, her steps slow, letting the sound sink into Elves’ hearts, only the plants offered genuine praises, sprouting from the ground, leaving traces of followers behind Faelga. She ascended the steps, reclined on the throne, leaning against the broken armrest on one side, legs draped over the other. The gravity pulled at her thin silky skirt, her lotus-white legs naturally swaying in the air. The Royal Court seemed to have only her presence, she gazed for a few seconds at the dense cluster of branches above, cocking her head, finally her gaze falling on the kneeling Elves.

"Let us begin." She spoke briefly and blandly, then began to sway her legs listlessly again.

"My queen, the allied forces defeated the swarm, and with the aid of the criminal Heinz... We have scouted the entirety of the Dream Forest, confirming the enemy’s annihilation." Charles reported the military situation, maintaining a humble posture throughout, never raising his head.

"The army is rewarded according to the laws of the Elders’ Council, compensating the families of the fallen. Charles Nightingale, you have excellently fulfilled your duties as a general, state your wish, and if appropriate, I shall grant it."

Faelga’s response stirred the courtiers, all eyes gleamed with envy as they watched Charles, the noise quickly ceased, waiting for his reply. Not far behind Charles, Essena clenched her fists, her body trembling as if chilled.

"My queen, I wish for your presence in the Elders’ Council." Charles articulated clearly, without inducing any further thoughts. The Elders’ Council was growing in power, the War Druid sensed an ominous scent and hoped the stern lady would bring the chill to their organization. This haughty queen, certainly capable of eradicating discord, just as she had once purged the Royal Court. Reclaiming the power of the Elders’ Council into the queen’s hands, in some eyes, Charles was merely opening the gates to the Grim Reaper. Inwardly cursing this renowned warrior of the battlefield to death countless times, yet in the royal assembly, they could only silently pray.

Faelga made an intrigued sound, causing the Elves’ hearts to pound. Yet the woman shifted her attention to another direction abruptly.

"Dear Volan, why remain silent?"

Such a piercing voice, to the handsome Elf it was like the sound of heaven, he took a deep breath, his morphed tone slightly deeper: "I did not participate in the battle, and do not deem myself qualified to judge..."