Real Mount and Blade Game

The smoke and fury of the twilight realm of Balihe were isolated from the dimensional barrier and left to another dimension.

Deep within the layers of spatial crevices, a carefully guarded verdant secret realm lies like a sleeping gem.

Here, life essence is so rich it's almost solidified; streams cascade down crystal-like rock walls; and exotic flowers bloom with an eternal glow in the dim light that needs no sunlight.

The air was so fresh, like the first breath of a newborn world, that it was invigorating.

This is Eriendor, the core sanctuary of the Wood Elf plane—the Emerald Temple.

The magnificent council chamber at the center of the temple has a dome that is not made of wood or stone, but rather woven from millions of shimmering, living tourmaline leaves, with soft and spiritual light shining down on the twelve vine thrones arranged in a ring.

The figures seated there each embody an unimaginable weight of time and experience; they are the oldest, wisest, and most powerful beings in the Wood Elf plane—the Wood Elf Council.

At this moment, this space, which has been flowing with peace and holiness since ancient times, is shrouded in an invisible anger and a deep regret.

The eternally spring-like air inside the temple became stagnant and heavy, like the low pressure before a storm.

At the head of the table sat the Grand Elder, who had spearheaded the "harvesting" operation in the world of Balihe—named Allegros.

His face had deep features, like the weathered texture of an ancient oak tree. At this moment, his eyes, which seemed to hold the stars, were lowered, and his long, silver-gray hair moved slightly without wind, exuding an indescribable cold and majestic aura.

The surrounding space seemed to be slightly distorted by his emotions.

A psionic projection, condensing the final scene of the battlefield, hovered in the center of the circular council hall—

It was that sudden plunder that tore through dimensions with a dazzling, heart-stopping emerald green pillar of light, instantly erasing the burning, struggling, and degraded ancient war tree and the core of the earth where it was situated, leaving behind a giant crater with smooth, mirror-like edges and unfathomable depths.

The final frame of the image shows the moment the beam of light disappears and the spatial rift closes.

"cost!"

An aged yet powerful voice broke the silence.

The speaker was an elder known as "Throat of the Roots," Thorindir, who was standing to the side.

His throne was formed from the gnarled, crystallized roots of a giant tree, and he himself seemed to have grown out of the roots, his body entwined with vines and his face covered with deep wood grain.

At this moment, his eyes, which could see through the soil to its deepest depths, were fixed on the core of the ancient tree that had disappeared in the projection, his eyes filled with undisguised sorrow and anger.

“Allegro.” Thorindir’s voice was like two massive rocks rubbing together, deep and soul-stirring: “We watched helplessly as that ancient seed of life was awakened and twisted by those ignorant and despicable humans, forcibly uprooted in your final ‘exploitation’! What a fine foundation it was! What deep potential it held!”

He pointed sharply at the projection, his fingertips crackling with emerald arcs of electricity: "Give it time! Let it be nourished by pure natural faith! It should have grown into a true 'Ancient Elf Tree'! Even if it couldn't reach the highest realm, becoming a perfect 'war bulwark' would have been easy for it to protect our new coordinates! And now?!"

Thorindir's question was laced with sharp pain: "Look at what kind of thing you snatched back?! A deformed, corrupted lump of waste, devoid of any potential for growth! The fragments of natural will contained within it are pitifully thin! And it carries the filthy remnants of the despair of those lowly humans before their deaths!"

"Sorindir!"

Another elder, the Star Speaker Ilmarien, spoke up.

Her voice was ethereal, like distant mountain mists; her throne seemed woven from vines formed from moonlight; and her body was shrouded in hazy starlight. Compared to Thorindir's anger, her voice carried more of a cold assessment and worry.

"The Ancient Tree of Elves? That's just a beautiful vision, or rather, an excuse. The returns from forcibly projecting power across dimensions at the expense of our plane's core energy are far below expectations. This isn't a normal return on investment. Elder Alexolos, in this emergency, did you use reserves that shouldn't have been used?"

Her sharp gaze shot towards the Grand Elder in the main seat.

Upon hearing this, the others also became serious and turned to look at Allegro.

Faced with the questioning, Allegros slowly raised his eyes, which held the weight of countless years.

The previous anxiety was gone from those eyes; only a bottomless coldness and an unquestionable authority remained.

“Ancient Elven Tree? War Barrier?” Alexstrass’s voice was calm and even, yet like an undercurrent beneath the ice, it carried a power that chilled the soul: “Tholindir, have you been blinded by your long life? Or have you developed an inappropriate compassion for such lowly creatures as humans?”

He slightly raised his hand, and the central scene of the council hall changed, no longer the abrupt plunder, but a macroscopic projection of the Wood Elf plane itself.

The emerald green core of the star now reveals fine, faint cracks!

A faint, almost imperceptible aura of decay permeated the air!
"Look at our world core!" Alexstrasza's voice suddenly rose, carrying an unprecedented heaviness: "Since the ancient cataclysm, it has never truly recovered! Every projection of power, every loss of a subworld, has accelerated its withering! That tiny 'root system' connecting the Twilight Realm of Bali River was once a new 'branch' on which we invested resources and placed high hopes, hoping that Yang Di and that group of wood elf 'servants' could become our tentacles for drawing nourishment from the desolate land!"

His gaze swept over all the elders, cold and sharp: "And the result? What did they do?! A pathetic internal struggle for resources! A foolish strategy when facing that human force named Shen Mu! Failure after failure! Finally, at the brink of annihilation, that greedy and short-sighted human leader Yang Di actually dared to exhaust the precious fragments of natural will that we left him for a stable passage! Burning the filthy collective will of humanity! Forcibly turning a child node with unlimited potential into an immovable, chaotic burden that can only consume and cannot give back—that so-called 'Ancient Tree of War' is nothing more than a festering sore about to explode out of control!"

Alexstrass's voice was resolute and unwavering: "In that state, every moment it existed was frantically consuming the precious energy at the fragile end of that plane's root system! Worse still, that Shen Mu of Deherim controls a military force far exceeding our expectations! Those warriors are no ordinary humans! Their discipline, equipment, will, and that almost soul-deep ruthlessness and efficiency... I even sensed in them the rudiments of some... ancient rule!"

The council chamber was deathly silent, with only the fine cracks projected onto the World Tree core silently testifying to the impending crisis.

"If we allow Shen Mu to completely destroy the festering sore and seize the key point."

Alexios's voice struck like a hammer blow to the hearts of every elder: "He will definitely find the fragments of the passage! And then? Will an orderly human force that can rise so rapidly in the Dead Lands be a docile neighbor, or... the next greedy jackal following the scent of food? Elders, we cannot afford a second war! Especially against an opponent that has risen from destruction, whose potential is yet to be fully revealed!" He surveyed the entire hall, his long, silver-gray hair moving without wind: "Therefore, I must act! Before that festering sore bursts out of control, or before Shen Mu cuts it open to investigate, I must sever this rotten, diseased branch that is draining our core nourishment! Eradicate all traces of its existence!"

He paused, his voice revealing for the first time a trace of undeniable weariness and heaviness: "That's why I used the energy reserves of the 'Roots of the Barrier.' The benefits? Yes, far less than the investment. But the important thing is to stop the damage! To isolate! To preserve our remaining world of Erion before we are completely exposed and attract the wolves' covetous eyes!"

Alexstrass's gaze finally settled on the projection of the World Tree's core, his eyes filled with sorrow and resolve: "We have no time to nurture a perfect new bud. What we need now is... absolute safety and concealment. Until the World Core regains its vitality."

"The root of the barrier..."

"Shepherd" Galadriel—an elder with a gentle demeanor like the morning sun in the forest—had her expression change drastically at this moment.

She controls the pulse of life in the plane and knows what the "root of the barrier" means.

That was the World Tree's last remaining defensive force against dimensional erosion!
She gazed worriedly at the projection of the World Tree's core, then at Alexstrasz's cold and weary face in the main seat, and said softly, "Alexstrasz, your decision... may be right. But the price is too high. The Roots of the Barrier have been weakened, and if anything unexpected happens..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but the worry in her words was clearly evident.

Thorindir opened his mouth, looked at the cracked projection, his Adam's apple bobbed a few times, but ultimately did not question the damaged War Tree that had been "harvested" prematurely.

The regret in his eyes turned into deeper worry and uncertainty about the future of the dimension.

Ilmarine did not press further. Her eyes, shrouded in starlight, gazed even more intently at the projection at the core of the World Tree, attempting to deduce the future trajectory of the stars, but she only saw an even more chaotic mist.

A long silence fell over the council chamber.

The previous anger and regret have now been replaced by a greater, colder, and more suffocating sense of existential crisis.

The failure was not just the loss of a single piece, but also exposed the heart-wrenchingly fragile nature of the entire Wood Elf plane.

The elders' faces no longer showed any ease, only a deep gloom shrouding the Wood Elf plane, and the invisible pressure brought by the figure of Shen Mu from the distant Balihe world.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

The pronouncement of Elder Alexios was like a heavy boulder thrown into stagnant water, stirring not ripples, but a deeper silence.

The previous arguments, regrets, and anger have now been replaced by a grander and colder reality.

Survival itself.

This is already the biggest challenge facing Irwindor.

“The Roots of the Barrier…” The voice of the Shepherd Galadriel trembled slightly as she broke the suffocating silence.

Her slender fingers unconsciously caressed the armrest of the vine throne, her gaze once again falling on the World Tree core projection with its fine cracks spreading: "That is one of the last cornerstones maintaining the dimensional barrier. Using its reserves... Alexstrasz, means that our gates are now ajar even wider."

Thorindir's deep wrinkles seemed even more menacing, and his heavy breathing sounded like bellows.

He stared at the location of the "fum" that had been forcibly erased from the projection, imagining Yang Di's final madness and despair, and then recalled the Deherim leader named Shen Mu, who possessed terrifying militarized power, as described in Allegros's words...

A mixture of disgust and a barely perceptible sense of dread surged within him.

He opened his mouth, but in the end only let out a muffled, thunderous whimper, much like the low growl of a wounded beast, without questioning the value of the damaged ancient war tree.

Compared to the survival of a plane, the gains and losses of a sub-world are indeed insignificant.

The starlight surrounding the Star Speaker Ilmarien seemed to dim slightly.

Her eyes, which could peer into the orbits of stars and sense the threads of fate, were now deeply engrossed in the image at the core of the World Tree.

She was performing a simulation.

But all that could be seen was a chaotic expanse shrouded in an even greater fog.

“Allegro’s choice… was the only viable way to cut our losses.” Her ethereal voice carried an unprecedented heaviness: “That ‘ancient tree’ was a complete liability. Not only could it not provide any support, but it was also frantically draining the already meager nutrients from our ‘root system.’ More importantly, it had become an extremely vulnerable point exposed to a powerful enemy. Cutting it off, though painful, severed the source of the wolf’s invasion. The depletion of the bulwark’s roots… was the price we had to pay for our strategic mistakes and Yang Di’s folly.”

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze seemingly piercing through the dome of the Emerald Temple, looking towards the unknown dimensional turbulence: "That Shen Mu... the form of power he uses to establish order amidst destruction, and the rigid efficiency and cold will displayed by his legions, are far beyond what ordinary human kingdoms could create. Alexios's concerns are not without merit; he may indeed... or has already become a variable we need to be wary of."

The other elder, who had been silent all along, "Ancient Whisper" Karis Rootman, slowly raised his head.

His throne seemed to have grown naturally from countless gnarled ancient roots, almost merging with his withered but resilient body.

He spoke in a slow, hoarse voice, like the decaying hollow of an ancient tree: “The price has been paid, and there’s no point in discussing whether it was necessary. The question now is: what’s next? Eriendor’s Emerald Veil has a weak point, and the power of the Barrier’s Roots is diminishing our resistance to external fluctuations. Elder Alexstrasz, should we… enter a complete 'Slumbering Echo'?”

This suggestion sent a chill down the spines of all the elders present. (End of Chapter)