The silence following the Alpha Cervus's fall lasted barely two heartbeats.
Then instinct took over.
Tchink—
Tchink—
Tchink—
Three dozen elven bows drew back in perfect synchronization. Arrows imbued with emerald mana hung suspended in the air, aimed directly at Lusian's group.
Lusian remained kneeling in the mud, breathing heavily. The battle against the Omega beast had pushed him to the very limit of his reserves, far more than his pride would ever allow him to admit.
Beside him, Dayana hissed loudly, baring the sharp points of her fangs. Elizabeth discreetly raised her hands; above their heads, the gloom of the sky flickered, ready to channel lightning the moment it became necessary. Thunder violently stamped the ground, electricity crackling along his back as an unmistakable warning.
And Lusian... simply stared at the ingrates.
Grisela stepped forward without loosening her bowstring.
—We will not give a second warning —she declared firmly, though the accumulated exhaustion made the tips of her fingers tremble almost imperceptibly. —Human... drop the sword.
Lusian raised an eyebrow.
—No.
Grisela drew the bowstring back until the wood creaked under the strain.
—Drop. The. Sword.
The treetops began to creak. The mana gathering in the air reacted like a powder keg on the verge of exploding around them.
Elizabeth leaned toward Lusian and whispered so softly that only he could hear:
—Lusian... we're going to have to kill them all.
Dayana let out a low, calculating chuckle.
Lusian slowly rose to his feet, one measured movement at a time.
The pressure in the clearing instantly skyrocketed.
Emily looked desperately from one side to the other, searching for some way to prevent the tragedy that was about to unfold. Then one of the elven archers broke ranks with a shout:
—The humans brought abominations into the sacred forest!
—They're corrupted! —another shouted, raising his weapon in fury. —They'll betray us just like they did during the Eternal Blood War!
The arrows shifted instantly.
Now they were aimed directly at Elizabeth's chest.
The princess swallowed.
And for the first time in a very long time... she lowered her gaze slightly.
Not out of fear.
But because she knew exactly what would happen if she lost control. If she released the demonic mana while surrounded like this, the entire forest would be reduced to ashes.
The air grew thick and suffocating.
No one dared breathe.
One wrong movement, one poorly chosen word, and the clearing would become a slaughterhouse.
Then Emily rushed forward.
She physically placed herself between the arrows and her group. She extended both hands, and a wave of golden light burst from her body—soft, warm, and enveloping, like moonlight tearing through the gloom.
—LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!
Her voice echoed through the grove.
The elves hesitated.
For a second, even the branches of the forest seemed to stop swaying.
Emily's magic was not meant to intimidate or crush them.
And that was precisely what made it unbearable.
It forced them to confront their own hatred.
To feel it.
To acknowledge how vile their position had become.
Emily hated this scene.
She hated seeing arrows pointed at the people who had just saved their lives. She hated the elves' blind panic. She hated seeing Elizabeth forced to lower her gaze so she would not unleash enough power to destroy everything around them.
And more than anything, she hated that after preventing a massacre, they were still desperately searching for someone to blame.
—We are not your enemies —she said, her breath ragged and her heart hammering against her chest.
Meanwhile, Lusian began walking toward the elves.
Each step deliberately shortened the distance between them.
If the arrows flew, he would be close enough to cut their throats before they could reload.
—You were the ones who got in our way —Lusian muttered irritably, glancing sideways. —I just didn't want to see her crying.
Emily immediately turned bright red from ear to ear.
The elves failed to understand the irony behind his words...
But they understood something far more important.
This man was no ordinary noble.
And crossing his path was a mistake they would not live long enough to tell anyone about.
Then Lusian spoke again, his calm voice infinitely more dangerous than any unleashed threat.
—Don't misunderstand.
His golden eyes slowly swept across the line of elven archers, measuring every throat and every stance.
—If I had wanted you dead... you'd already be dead.
Several arrows lowered by a few inches through sheer instinct for self-preservation.
Grisela gritted her teeth, her knuckles white around the bow.
—And if we had wanted you dead... —she replied without looking away even a fraction—... you'd already be covered in arrows.
A faint smile touched Lusian's lips.
Small.
Cold.
Unsettling.
—Probably.
He paused deliberately as he adjusted the weight of Dainslein.
—But you didn't fire while that thing was crushing you.
The silence that followed became heavy and uncomfortable.
—Which means you can still think.
A low murmur passed through the elven squad.
Suppressed pain. Shattered pride. Primal fear...
And yet, buried beneath the resentment, there was also an unwilling trace of respect.
Grisela lowered her bow by barely an inch, keeping her eyes fixed on the young noble.
The distrust still hung between them like a silent plague.
—What are you doing here? —she finally asked.
—Taking a walk —Lusian replied with complete indifference.
Several elves frowned in irritation.
No one believed the mocking answer, but the tension did not explode.
It simply changed shape.
Lusian studied Grisela for a brief moment.
The Nature Heroine.
On the game's forums, players had spent hours heatedly debating whether she was the most beautiful woman in the entire installment.
Idiots, Erwin thought inwardly. They know nothing about beauty.
Elizabeth was on an entirely different level.
Emily remained standing between the two sides, acting as a fragile shield of light to prevent the massacre.
—We don't want to fight —the healer quickly intervened, trying to solidify the truce. —But we can't turn back either.
An elf spat onto the bloodstained roots.
—Lies! All humans say the same thing before betraying us.
Grisela did not reprimand her subordinate, but neither did she raise her bow again.
—The forest has been altered —Lusian suddenly stated.
The argument died instantly.
Even the most hostile archers fell silent.
One of the warriors frowned.
—What does that mean?
Lusian remained silent for a moment, as though measuring the exact value of the information before giving it away.
—Something is affecting the Mother Tree directly.
The bows lowered a little further.
Grisela clenched her free hand.
Her home was there, nestled among the immense branches of the Mother Tree, where her people had thrived for generations.
And now they were being slaughtered and driven out like vermin by the very grove that had once protected them.
—We already know that... —the elf admitted, and for the first time her voice lost its sharp aggression. —But no one who has entered the core has returned alive.
Emily looked at Lusian in confusion.
She couldn't understand how he knew so much about the geography and secrets of such a sacred territory, one so closed off to outsiders.
—We're heading there —Lusian continued, ignoring everyone's astonishment.
The elves tensed again, their muscles tightening around their weapons.
—If you want your home back too... then we can help each other.
Lusian paused, his expression turning cold.
—Or, at the very least, we can stay out of each other's way.
Silence stretched between them.
One elf muttered under his breath, staring at Lusian as though he were looking at a madman.
—Enter the core of the Mother Tree...? Human... are you trying to die?
Lusian did not even bother responding to the provocation.
—If the Mother Tree is reacting like this, the problem is inside the roots. Not out here.
Grisela hesitated.
Lusian could see the conflict in her eyes: the desperate need to save her people fighting against the ancient pride of her race.
She knew her depleted squad would not survive another incursion on their own.
—If we let you advance with us... what exactly are you looking for? —she finally asked.
Lusian nodded slightly.
—Just one fruit. Once we have it, we'll leave.
There was a brief hesitation.
Grisela turned toward the survivors and began speaking in the elven dialect. The words were fast, clipped, and guttural. Every so often, the soldiers' eyes shifted toward Lusian.
Some looked at him with undisguised anger.
Others with fear.
And a few with an involuntary spark of hope.
The deliberation continued for several minutes before Grisela finally turned back toward him.
The distrust had not disappeared, but the harshness of reality had begun to outweigh any ancient dogma.
—Then... we'll march together.
Several warriors clenched their jaws, silently expressing their displeasure.
Grisela stepped forward and extended her gloved hand.
It was not a gesture of friendship.
It was a pact forged by necessity.
—For the Mother Tree.
Lusian stared at her hand for a couple of seconds before firmly shaking it.
—As long as you don't get in my way again, we'll have no problems.
A couple of elves frowned at the arrogance in his tone.
Beside him, Dayana let out a mocking, provocative laugh, while Emily finally released the breath she had been holding.
A few meters away, Elizabeth continued watching the elven group in absolute silence.
Everyone in the clearing understood how fragile the agreement was.
The truce had been sealed.
But no one intended to turn their back on their new ally.