The green radiance slowly spread out.
A hazy green phantom appeared in midair.
It looked like a poem drifting in the wind—magnificent and vast. Its towering crown spread open, covering the sky like an umbrella. Its majestic, straight trunk rose like a tower reaching into the clouds. Flocks of birds circled the forest at the cloud tops, slow and graceful, solemn and imposing.
It was a fortress, a sacred palace for warriors, a hall for heroic spirits. Layer upon layer of battlements stood amid the clouds, built upon the intricate branches and roots. From countless towers, heavy ballistae were being pushed out. The things glinting with cold light were steel bolts.
Rows of lightly armored treant archers marched onto the battlements. At the Captain of Archers' command, they halted, then turned to face the battlefield. They placed one end of their longbows on the ground in perfect unison. The bow limbs flashed with a gentle silver sheen, standing like a forest.
Whoo—
A long, mournful horn echoed through the northern wind.
Everyone on the battlefield tilted their heads back and stared open-mouthed, their faces blank with shock.
Someone's longsword fell to the ground, but they did not even notice.
The knights' mounts uneasily pawed the earth with all four hooves and snorted, but the knights gripped their reins without a trace of awareness, like stone statues atop their horses.
"What, what is that...?" Baron Dale's mouth was wide enough to fit a duck egg, and even his eyes bulged out. "What the hell is that thing!?"
He instinctively reached for the person beside him, but Hollis shoved the irritating man away. The look in this leader of the Salsard Wizards' eyes could no longer be described as shock. He immediately turned and roared at the others:
"Attack at once! Don't