PS: (Background BGM for this chapter: Liberators)
Half an hour earlier, High Forest.
A griffin rider was patrolling the skies above this forbidden land.
The history of High Forest could be traced all the way back to the dawn of the world, when elves, giants, and dragons ruled a continent blanketed in green.
This forest had been home to every woodland race, including Aarakocra, centaurs, Drow, Gnolls, gnomes, half-centaurs, High Elves, Moon Elves, pixies, satyrs, treants, and wild elves.
But now, with the collapse of the Illefarn Elven Empire and the departure of the High Elves, all that remained in this ancient forest were mad treants, trolls that devoured everything, demons wandering around Hellgate Keep, and Drow who spent every day clamoring about retaking the continent.
That was precisely why, despite Zelandia's strength today, it had never attempted to conquer this forest of countless resources.
It was so complex and dangerous that even the slimes' mobile Dreamweave had difficulty spreading into it.
Whether they were the mad treants, extraordinarily sensitive to all organic life, or the trolls that ate anything at all, both took an interest in those soft little creatures.
Naturally, Li Wei could not bear to send the half-elven rangers into this dangerous forest as "expendables," so this arduous task naturally fell upon the griffin riders' shoulders.
Ah, is it finally almost time for the shift change?
Using a hand crusted with frost, the griffin rider took out his pocket watch and flipped it open. Out of long habit, he first glanced at the family photograph on its cover, carefully wiped away the ice crystals, and only then asked over the encrypted Dreamweave channel.
"This is Vulture-517. Hey, brothers, how about we hit the tavern for a drink later and warm our stomachs?"
"No. Today's the Winter Feast.