The Western Forest Sea had been cut off, and The Woodlands finally sent an envoy.
Sylvian Woodsinger—still the same elven envoy—had not been idle after returning from the Imperial Capital. Now he appeared before Ryan. "Back then, I told you that you could only take away the elves' remains, not dream of occupying land that belongs to humanity and letting The Woodlands expand."
Winter's Chill strolled leisurely along the edge of the forest. The Western Forest Sea and The Woodlands were sharply distinct in color. The Western Forest Sea brimmed with vitality like the morning sun, while the ancient The Woodlands showed far more gloom. In many places, light could not penetrate at all; that was a kingdom belonging solely to certain vegetation that did not need sunlight.
Sylvian rested his palm on his sword hilt. Behind him stood the elven army that had withdrawn back to The Woodlands, as well as the reinforcements sent by the Royal Court. "Lord Ryan, if you surrender now, the queen will not pursue the sins you committed in this war."
His expression was serious. Clearly, he did not want to cross blades with Ryan, an imperial noble whose name he had heard many times in the Imperial Capital, but he had also never believed that the outcome of this war was uncertain.
For reasons he firmly believed in, he seemed especially certain that victory in this war belonged to the elves.
Ryan froze for a moment after hearing that, then suddenly laughed.
"Mr. Sylvian, you don't seem to understand what's happened. Right now, you are the ones who started the war!"
Ryan's face darkened. He drew the noble longsword in his hand and pointed it toward The Woodlands.
"You'd better get this straight. The elves declared war on humanity, and I am currently