The Elder Council

Rustle, rustle...

The towering Everlasting Tree swayed as a damp breeze passed by, carrying the faint scent of grass from Sky Lake.

Life was a song.

Survival and continuation were life's most fundamental instincts.

The fear of death was etched deep in the memories of almost every living thing. It was the most profound remnant of self-awareness left behind by life's long, brutal struggle for survival, dating back to the age of single-celled organisms.

Following the instincts of life, the Wind Spirit elders did everything in their power to paint these human saviors in a favorable light and satisfy their every need, hoping to prevent the Wind Spirits from meeting their possible doom.

And yet!

Hei Huan was an ordinary witcher stationed in the holy city of the Everlasting Tree. In the human world of Starveil Land, he had spent so long hiding from the Holy See's searches like a rat in a sewer. It had been ages since he'd been able to enjoy the convenience of witchcraft as freely as he did now, bask in people's respect, and do as he pleased beneath the open sun.

A practitioner of mental suggestion witchcraft, he bore a permanent corrosive scar on his right cheek. His skin resembled the weathered bark of an ancient tree. When he was young, a Missionary had stumbled upon his secret laboratory, and the divine power of the God of Light, summoned by prayer, had corroded his face.

He had paid for it with his right cheek.

In Starveil Land, the so-called Dark World was nothing more than a group of human heretics who claimed this place would never be their home and sought to destroy everyone who considered Starveil Land theirs.

His conflict with the Holy See was a matter of differing beliefs!

"Hmph. It's only