"Elder Melos, are you truly determined to walk this road with him to the very end? Is your Elf race really going to cut yourselves off before all under heaven?"
Seeing that the combined efforts of the crowd still could not subdue Melos, Simon was shaken, yet he did not forget to use words to threaten her.
However, Melos first met his fist with her own and sent him flying, then snorted coldly.
"What right do you have to speak for all under heaven? You are nothing more than a dog. And you dare threaten my Elf race? Do you truly think the Elf race has endured through the ages by relying on handouts?"
Simon's earlier words had clearly enraged Melos. The greatest headache facing the Elf race now was the matter of their people's reproduction.
If their population had not dwindled, then a thousand years ago, aside from Lyka, the strongest person in the world at the time, who would have dared utter words of threat?
Even Lyka had dealt with the Elf race in the spirit of cooperation between equals.
Yet from Simon's tone now, it sounded as though they were bestowing charity upon the Elf race.
Therefore, just as Simon was about to keep wagging his tongue, Melos's attacks grew increasingly ruthless.
The others were the ones who suffered for it.
Melos's accumulated foundation over thousands of years had already been beyond their comprehension. Now that they had angered her, they were in for a bitter taste.
Previously, Melos had still taken their Legendary status into account. What could have been fatal had become injuries, and what could have injured them had become mere grazes.
Now that she was truly striking without restraint, within only a few exchanges, the first Grand Mage was blasted off the mountaintop