The Legend of the Essence Spring

Time passed.

The Molo Clan, which occupied the Everlasting Tree World, continued to disappear under the joint purge carried out by the Witchers and the Wind Spirits.

It was precisely because of this that the Wind Spirits' dark opposition faction had never managed to gain momentum. They posed no real threat to the human Witchers who had descended into this Everlasting Tree World, merely causing trouble for the Elder Council.

After all, compared to the greed of the human Witchers, the Wind Spirits' hatred toward the Molo Clan after a century of war was undoubtedly far greater.

Flagi, Duke of the Evil Holy Grail, gently raised his wine cup.

Compared to ordinary Witchers' greed for common resources, as a Great Warlock King who had mastered Law Power, his greed was no longer limited to superficial things.

"Saint Bilimoya?"

His uncanny gaze fixed on the dark red liquid in the wine cup. He licked his lips and sought confirmation from the Witcher beneath the black robe at his side.

"Yes."

The Witcher beneath the black robe replied in a low voice, then added, "This was once a mysterious Magic Material vein. It was said that, relying on the Magic Material from this vein, the Wind Spirits established a powerful Sky Legion. They then waged a war lasting more than a century against the invading Molo Clan, until the God of Rot descended."

The black-robed Witcher paused.

He was Flagi's confidant. Beneath the shadows, his fanatical, bloodthirsty gaze narrowed slightly.

"Although this vein is precious, redeveloping it would be difficult. Because the God of Rot's Law pollution has seeped into the land and its environment, no one knows how many years it would take to clear out the mutated creatures there. Besides, our Dark World has not given birth to a Great