Present World, Sixth Epoch, 1854, late autumn. The frigid night wind swept through the treetops. In this season just before deep winter, the rustling of the great trees beneath the stars mingled with the horns calling the Ancient Race to gather once more. The kingdom's collapse was already a legend from ten thousand years ago, and the covenant between the Ancient God and the Elf King had long become a faded myth. Yet though the sapling was still young, she had already taken up a sword and donned a crown, ready to unveil a new canticle. Outlander, so dearly cherished and missed—did you regret drawing her into the Torrent of Fate? When the final choice appeared, would you be willing to place that crown upon her head with your own hands?
"Your words sound strange, but I'll protect Emilia. Were you hinting at something just now?"
Emilia, wearing a flower wreath and receiving blessings, was reflected in Shade's eyes. Only Emilia knew that her fluent replies did not come from confidence. Not long ago, in that cramped corner of the library, Shade had held her close as they discussed this very matter. She had prepared herself for him.
After the blessing ceremony ended, Grandma Qishala was very pleased with tonight's events:
"Emilia, the Elf Clans have each sent representatives to Vesta Woodland to assist the Orthodox Church in dealing with this trouble. Those Unicorns below were brought by everyone. I know you have your own plans, but if you need help, all elves will stand by you."
"I understand, Grandma. I'll prove myself."
Emilia nodded gently and carefully put away the crown she had been holding. In her heart, she was also praising herself for having performed quite well.
Miss Danist then exchanged a few more words with these elderly