Isolde's fingertips unconsciously traced across the parchment, distant memories surfacing in her mind.
War Trees.
They were advanced units of the elven legions. Raising each one required long years and the tempering of war; every one was precious beyond measure. Only the ancient elves far away in the Ancient Tree Council could afford to cultivate them.
If one traced the origins of the oak guardians in the Treant territory, they might perhaps be considered descendants of War Trees separated by countless generations. Their potential was limited, and their chances of transforming into transcendent beings were minuscule.
Yet after communicating with those magical Slimes and witnessing their strange magic, a faint feeling arose within Isolde.
Perhaps cultivating an advanced unit comparable to a War Tree did not require following ancient traditions alone.
"This place is growing more unsettled by the day..."
She sighed softly, took out a Magic Leaf radiating mysterious power, and rubbed it between her fingertips as her thoughts drifted toward the territory's future.
Though Viola was nominally the lord of this forest, that naturally lazy and free-spirited lord usually dumped nearly all administrative matters onto her.
And the more a matter involved major decisions such as the territory's future development or foreign relations, the more Viola liked to wash her hands of it and leave Isolde to decide.
It gave Isolde quite a headache.
If they wished to protect this peaceful paradise surrounded by perilous swamps, they needed to seek greater and more dependable strength.
That was precisely why she found the Slime Kingdom's proposal for Rune Oak Guardians so appealing.
This might be a shortcut to rapidly strengthening the territory's defenses.
"Lord Little Flower, have you managed to contact His Majesty?" Gathering her thoughts, Isolde sent a message to Little Flower in the East Swamp through the