Inside the ancient magical device for communication, a series of interference noises ca through. Belna, however, was indifferent to them. She rely maintained a smile and patiently waited for a few seconds, then heard a raspy, deep voice, like dry branches rubbing against each other, emanating from the device:
"Today’s wasteland remains as dull as every day before—Preceptor Beltira, why have you suddenly contacted us through the Shadow Bridge?"
"I wanted to verify the situation at the outpost," Belna, a guise for Beltira, a mid-level leader of the cult organization, said flatly. "You should already know that those blind monsters have simultaneously attacked the borders of Typhon and Anzu."
"...Everything on ’this side’ of the wall is under control. The incidents outside the wall are unrelated to us, Your Excellency."
Beltira snorted lightly, evidently dissatisfied with the reply: "Aberrations have appeared with primitive intelligence and powerful spell-casting abilities. Why wasn’t there ntion of these changes in previous reports?"
The voice on the other end of the communication device paused for a mont, then crackled back: "...We have not observed the kind of aberrations you ntioned."
Beltira’s gracefully shaped eyebrows slightly furrowed, evidently even less satisfied with this response: "Do you think I would fabricate such details randomly? Now even the humans outside the wall have already witnessed the new aberrant monsters. Do you truly not know?"
"Preceptor Beltira, do not question the Sacrificer’s loyalty. We do not know what these aberrations are, as you say, but we will investigate them—if all proves true, it can only indicate those monsters are undergoing unprecedented mutations. Facing such changes, patiently awaiting the investigation’s conclusion is the wisest choice."
"I will wait," Beltira’s expression was icy and rigid, "but my patience is thin."
"Be patient, be patient, we have already been patient for seven hundred years. There’s little that can impact our plans now..."
The noise and voices within the transmission device gradually diminished. Beltira knew the effect of the Shadow Bridge was reaching its limit; the illicit signals in the channel would soon be noticed by the mages of the Silver Empire. Therefore, before the communication was completely cut off, she hurriedly said: "The elves will soon detect the commotion by the great walls. We will reset our channel, modify it according to the second plan..."
The sky was covered with a cloud layer as filthy as a swamp, with incessant chaos magic creating non-stop lightning among them. The wind passing through contained toxic gases and radioactive dust. All life withered and perished or mutated and twisted in this deadly environnt. Even the land, seen as the foundation of all existence, had transford into a wasteland covered with magic scorch marks due to corrosive magical energy—this place, was the land where life ceased.
But still, so "things" moved in this lifeless land.
In the Gondor wasteland, the Magic Energy Scar Region, a "forest" was slowly crawling.
Jet black, twisted branches grew rampantly in corrupted magical energy, sparse and chaotic gray-white leaves hung at the edges, tawny or blood-red crystal growths pierced the plant’s surface, growing like inlaid forms in those eerily twisted branches and leaves. No scholar could identify these "trees" or na them, not even in the most fantastical, bizarre illustrations dedicated to the Black Forest would one depict these freakish "trees"—especially as these trees swayed their branches with rustling noise and moved over the ground with dense roots, completely exceeding human imagination.
Countless such "trees" crawled over the wasteland. Their roots, like tangled coils of snakes, continuously expanded, contracted, and writhed. Occasionally, a "tree" would slow its rate of crawling, briefly inserting so roots into the corrupted soil, seizing the ti to absorb the last nutrients remaining there. Yet even so, their crawling never halted, as if their mission was to perpetually trek across the wasteland.
In the center of the Crawling Forest, an exceptionally massive and ancient monstrous tree was advancing slowly amidst its companions. The surface of its bark, wrinkled and pitted, gathered together to form a bizarre pattern resembling an old man’s face. This face made with bark slightly moved. From "its" dry, cracked mouth ca a raspy, deep voice: "No need to worry, Preceptor Beltira, everything is under control..."
Monts later, this ancient face sealed its mouth. Yet around this huge tree, many smaller crawling trees simultaneously began to sway, faces erging from the wrinkles that covered the bark, peering in the direction beyond the forest while their trunks twisted.
Outside the Crawling Forest, on the wasteland covered with filthy scorch marks, countless loathso gory titans were slowly moving. The insane-inducing low muttering emanated from each titan’s chest cavity and filled the entire wilderness.
Among those blindly trudging gory titans, occasionally a few especially large individuals, two or three tis the height of ordinary titans, could be seen. They would slowly advance within the troop, constantly moving towards the Crawling Forest’s direction...
Each leaf of the Crawling Forest trembled, amidst rustling sounds, ethereal words were heard: "Everything is under control..."
Beltira ended the communication, fixedly gazing at the now dimd ancient magical device before her.
"Sacrificer..." The female Preceptor closed her eyes, in her cold indifferent expression appeared a trace of nostalgia and bitterness, "Seven hundred years..."
But re seconds later, the female Preceptor collected all unnecessary emotional changes. She opened her eyes, her gaze turning cold and aloof again. After confirming that the Shadow Bridge had been put away and the ancient magical device had left no odd traces, she adjusted the folds in her clothes and prepared to leave the place.
Yet her foot seed to have taken root, stubbornly fixed in place; although her upper body had turned, she couldn’t raise her step.
She looked down in puzzlent, discovering there were no roots—what pinned her to the spot were not vines and roots but her own legs, her own feet.
Beltira frowned, once more attempting to lift her foot, yet this ti she not only failed but even placed her hand back on the already extinguished ancient magical device!
She the female Preceptor gasped quietly: "Belna? What are you doing?!"
Beltira’s body grew rigid, no longer making any movents. Yet within this body, a deep confrontation unfolded. Upon her face—which belonged to an elf, pure and beautiful—expressions constantly shifted: angry, pained, resolute, despairing...
Finally, all expressions faded to a layer of indifference. Beltira regained control over this body.
However, a soft sigh escaped her mouth.
"Belna... this is your last defiance."
"Go, before I change my mind."
The elf maiden’s body staggered slightly, then slowly walked toward the Magic Transmission Terminal in the room. She gently caressed the smooth alloy surface of the terminal, then sowhat clumsily placed her hand on its top.
A mont later, the elven runes lit up again, and a light fog projection appeared along with the sound, a silver elf with a kind smile waved at Belna.
"Wind Speaker 1015, hello, sister far from ho."
The elf maiden hesitated, but still slowly opened her mouth to break the silence: "I am... Belna Lightwind, from... Whitestone City."
"Alright, Miss Belna, how does it feel traveling far? Are you trying to contact your family in the Empire? Or do you want to report your experiences and insights from being outside? Or is there a special circumstance that requires a switch to the secret line?"
"I... no, I don’t need to contact family, I just have a few words I want to send to Thornheart Master in Moon Valley."
"Alright, please go ahead, we will record it here."
"... ntor, I am doing well outside, traveling really is a very interesting thing, the world is so big, much bigger than the forests I saw back on my ho planet...
"I have t many people, including humans, fellow elves also traveling, and the very common dwarfs in the northern part of the continent, and even a fairy - fairies are really interesting, small, but when they speak, they are very spirited...
"ntor, I do not regret coming out to see the world, but I also want to see my ho forest again...
"But... I will not return.
"I must stay in the outside world because of a promise, I have to fulfill it.
"Lastly, ntor, please stop gambling... truly, it’s quite embarrassing to talk about it with others...
"That’s all, Miss Wind Speaker."
"Okay, it’s been recorded," the silver elf on the magical display screen smiled while recording Belna’s words, then asked, "Do you have any other ssages for anyone else?"
Elf maiden Belna remained silent for a mont, then slightly shook her head: "No more."
"Alright, sister traveling afar—happy to have this brief conversation, hope to see you next ti. May the stars and earth always favor you."
"May the stars and earth always favor you. Thank you."
The runes on the surface of the transmission device slowly dimd, and Belna seed to repeat to herself: "Thank you."
This was obviously not ant for the Wind Speaker who had already gone offline.
The "elf maiden" wobbled slightly, and a cold voice ca from her mouth: "You don’t have to say thank you to , you and I both know this is part of the trade contract.
"You give your flesh and life force, I make up for your regrets.
"I’m just trying to better stabilize the ’fusion’ state of the flesh, and on the other hand, I’ve been monitoring your actions; every word and action of yours cannot break free from my constraints—so there’s really nothing for you to thank for."
The room remained in long silence, a few minutes later, Beltira suddenly chuckled lightly: "Ha... I am influenced by you..."
She shook her head, swiftly reining in all expressions on her face, then opened the doors of the compartnt and left this place without hesitation.
She skillfully passed through the checkpoint of the ssenger Hall, through the alleys, and exited this town established by elves from another entrance.
Soon after, she was walking in the coniferous forest outside the valley.
Still maintaining the "Belna" form, Beltira strolled through the forest. Despite being in the deserted frontier woodlands, she seed to be strolling in her ho garden; she walked leisurely and stopped after reaching an open area in the forest.
She smiled and looked up ahead to where Soldrin had already drawn a short bow not far away.
"’Sol’ sister, we et again."
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