"Two... elves? Forest Rangers? After more than a hundred million years, you haven't changed even a bit of trim on your uniforms? It seems the Elven Royal Court's rigid severity truly lives up to its reputation."
Standing coldly atop a patch of scattered emerald leaves, the black-clad caster held the Pale Scepter. With his Dark Gold Eyes, he controlled his exquisite voice and softly voiced his question and observation to the two trembling "little ones" before him.
Without question, the mysterious man in black who had arrived at the edge of the Eternal Forest was the Morningstar Mage who had accepted the "Chairman's" mission to conduct negotiations—Punk Saian, "Whisper of Destruction."
In fact, having restrained his Morningstar aura, the caster was heading directly toward the Elven Royal Court in the heart of the Eternal Forest. To avoid being attacked as an enemy, Punk had already displayed enough patience by slowly approaching that life-saturated region on foot. Under such circumstances, he obviously had no reason to care about the so-called natural environment. Now, all that lay behind "Whisper of Destruction" was a mess of withered branches and torn leaves. His brutal destruction of the trees blocking his path looked especially savage and violent—after all, the tens-of-thousands-of-kilometers-long passage through the dense forest had been forcibly ripped open with simple Formal Level spells.
Of course, even without many unnecessary plans or thoughts, encountering two Forest Rangers here did not surprise Punk, who knew quite a bit about elven culture. More than a hundred thousand years ago, the small kingdom closest to the Eternal Forest had already vanished completely for inexplicable reasons. Even the most desperate slave-catching teams, greedy for elven beauty, only dared roam the Emerald Plains around the Eternal Forest in hopes of picking up scraps. Yet the utterly inflexible Elven Royal