The place that had been slaughtered was called Forest Village, home to a race known as the Tree Elves. Among the myriad races, the Tree Elves were a kind and peaceful people. Born with the power to heal, they loved peace, and for countless years, the Yu Dynasty had sung praises of their deeds in helping others.
Two hours later, powerful figures among the surviving people finally arrived at the ruins shrouded by dark clouds and mist.
They floated at the edge of the ruins, silently gazing at the mound in the heart of Forest Village, piled high with tens of thousands of Tree Elf heads. Blood still flowed through the wreckage, gathering along the deep craters left by battle in the village's lower ground, forming a pool of blood.
In the past, when the wind blew through Forest Village, there was the rustling of branches and leaves woven into the treehouses, and the innocent, romantic laughter of the Tree Elves. Now there was only the creaking of shattered wood teetering amid broken walls, the dull rumble of rubble striking the ground, and the drip-drip of blood falling from the heads on the mound into the small pool below.
The powerful figures felt heavy-hearted. They wanted to roar at the heavens, yet could not find any member of the Azure Cloud Li Family responsible for this monstrous slaughter. They wanted to demand, unwillingly, why a race as kind as the Tree Elves had suffered such a calamity—but the bloody reality before them made them look around at the powerful figures who had come, every one of their bodies trembling faintly.
Whether it was fury or fear, no one knew. The only thing they knew was that Forest Village was merely the beginning. No one knew whose turn would come next.