Eversong Woods

Under the glow of the setting sun, golden waves accompanied by gentle breezes swept across the tranquil Golden Beach time and again.

Behind, the boundless maple forest seemed unwilling to be left out, its equally brilliant golden canopy swaying with the aid of the breeze.

The entire beach was bathed in this noble and sacred radiance.

Peaceful and serene, on this coastline named Golden Beach by the Quel'dorei, a young elf taking a nap was awakened by the cries of seagulls.

Unlike other high elves, a head of supple, silver-white hair added a touch of chill to this golden space, though a closer look would reveal that the white hair betrayed a hint of withered decay.

More captivating were his azure eyes, like two crystalline mana crystals, filled with an irresistible charm. Yet, perhaps it was an illusion, but a streak of emerald light flickered within them, making one's skin crawl.

Lanlos was his name, at least for now.

In fact, chaotic memories told him he should have had a surname to prove his identity, one belonging to the Quel'dorei nobility.

But ever since he experienced those few hours of death, he had buried it deep within his memories; now, he was merely a wanderer.

That's right, death.

Lanlos had long since died under the sharp blades of the Forest Trolls.

A cold glint flashed through the elf youth's azure eyes, radiating a composure completely inconsistent with his age; his deep gaze seemed capable of peering into the souls of others.

Fate played a cruel trick; just before his clansmen were about to toss his corpse into the incinerator, his stiff chest rose and fell once more.

He had come back to life.

However, he was no longer the "Lanlos" he once was.

The elf youth's sleepy eyes gazed at the edge of the coastline. As the last rays of the sunset sank into the Endless Sea, he sighed as if in regret, then slowly stood up.

He had to leave. Once the sky turned completely dark, savage murlocs would begin their revelry on the beach. Even with the deterrence of the Quel'dorei Rangers, it was impossible to stop these annoying monsters that could retreat into the deep sea at any moment.

Fumbling through the grass nearby, Lanlos grabbed a withered, cracked "branch," leaned on it, and limped forward along the coastline.

The hours of death had brought the elf youth more than just gray-white hair; according to the priest who treated him, his right leg had "died."

With every step he took, piercing pain caused Lanlos's brow to furrow slightly, yet a faint smile appeared on his face—a smile tinged with irony.

Fate, that sort of thing, truly loved to play jokes.

In his previous life, he had been tormented by illness, and having finally had the chance to come to the world he had dreamed of, he found himself surrounded by demons.

Now, having sacrificed all the strength he had fought his life for, he stepped onto Azeroth in such a state.

It was truly eye-opening...

Just because I didn't force myself to hold on for a few more years according to your rules? You want to play with me like this now?

Silently shaking his head, Lanlos glanced at his burdensome right leg. Regardless, at least he still had the sensation of pain. He was familiar with it; in his previous life, this feeling had accompanied him constantly. Days? Years? He couldn't remember; he only knew that it was the feeling of being alive.

Sorting through the memories of Vihana and the power of Belash in his mind, the elf's azure eyes shone with a peculiar light.

The power of this world was never limited to the surface. More importantly, as a high elf, his long lifespan gave him plenty of time to learn.

To learn safer power, to learn stronger power, to learn power sufficient to confront demons.

To prevent the power of the Keystone from being exposed and attracting demons, Lanlos hid the conical crystal in his mind deep within the unreachable recesses of his memory. Yet, he did not see that when he relaxed, an ominous green light flashed quietly at the corner of his eye.

"Hey, Lans, you finally made it back." The sky had already darkened, and the lights ahead made Lanlos quicken his pace, yet a familiar voice from not far away made him stop.

Turning his head, he saw two Quel'dorei in ranger uniforms emerge from the shadows.

"How many times do I have to say it, it's Lanlos, not Lans." The elf youth's lips curled into a helpless smile.

"Alright, Lans, I'll remember that." Waving his hand, the leading male ranger clearly didn't take Lanlos's complaint to heart. "Ilana, you take this kid back first."

"What about the patrol mission?" Although it was difficult to determine age for elves based on appearance alone, the innocence in Ilana's eyes proved that she was not much older than Lanlos.

"Don't worry, I'm a Murloc Slayer; those little runts only know how to detour when they run into me." Patting his chest, Sores remained as devil-may-care as ever, his tone filled with contempt for the murlocs.

Seeing Ilana looking at this middle-aged uncle with adoring eyes, Lanlos couldn't help but want to laugh.

The "Murloc Slayer" title was something Sores had bragged about, and it had been bestowed upon him by busybodies; the joke factor was far greater than any actual significance.

Although Sores was one of the few regular rangers in the village, his strength had not yet reached the point where he could slaughter his way through murlocs. Acting alone, he could at most bully a few unlucky stragglers.

But this was understandable. After all, according to Lanlos's knowledge, although the Amani trolls had been defeated by the alliance of high elves and humans centuries ago and had once shrunk into the tiny confines of the Zul'Aman jungles, in the last hundred years, these Forest Trolls had been unable to sit still, repeatedly igniting the flames of war on the borders of Quel'Thalas.

As the saying goes, good steel is used on the blade; the elite ranger units like the Farstriders were mostly sent to the front lines, and the remaining capable rangers were basically active in large cities. Small, peripheral places like Golden Branch Village did not need them to divide their attention. Naturally, slackers with average ability and poor character like Sores were filtered out.

Clearly catching the fleeting smile on Lanlos's face, Sores immediately tightened his brows: "What, is it that funny?"

"No, of course not. I was just laughing at those murlocs; after all, the one they have to face is the 'Murloc Slayer'."

Lanlos deliberately bit down hard on the last few syllables. Sores, of course, knew he wasn't genuinely praising him, and for a moment, his cheeks felt inexplicably hot.

"Cut it out!" Reaching out to block Lanlos's teasing gaze, Sores cleared his throat and fixed his eyes on Ilana. "Alright, you take him back first; tonight's patrol mission can be handled by me alone."

"Yes!" The elf maiden put away her clearly strange expression, gave a non-standard salute, nodded toward Lanlos, and walked briskly toward the village.

Seeing Sores disappear into the night, the latter's lips curled slightly upward. After a silent salute, he leaned on his cane and slowly followed in Ilana's footsteps.

Golden Branch Village was located at the southernmost tip of Golden Beach. Although it was adjacent to the Erendal River, because the latter's current was swift and the nearby creek valley was foggy year-round, Golden Branch Village did not possess the prosperity of Sunsail Harbor.

However, it was precisely because of this that this small village with mountains and water had not been harassed by the Forest Trolls. Peaceful and serene, it had once made Lanlos forget that this was Azeroth, that war-torn Azeroth.

Although it was only a settlement of a hundred people, as the saying goes, one can see the whole from a part; the high elves' attainments in magic were evident.

Under the night sky, Golden Branch Village was brightly lit. The cottages, distinctively elven in style, were arranged in orderly rows, and the stone paths extending in all directions stretched far beyond the line of sight, with bright magical streetlamps standing before every doorstep.

Several mischievous elven children, emboldened by the cover of night, were lost in their play, completely ignoring the calls of the adults echoing from afar as they remained hopelessly addicted to their game of hide-and-seek.

"Jain, didn't you hear Rashir calling you to come home?" Just as she entered the village, Ilana grabbed the little boy running past her, her face stern and serious.

However, it was clear that this elven girl held little authority in the village.

"Let go of me! I'm about to lose sight of them!" Seeing his playmates disappear around the street corner, Jain pouted and shot an indignant look at Ilana for blocking his path to victory. "It's all your fault, they've all run off!"

Seeing this, Ilana's brows furrowed slightly, and her tone softened as she tried to reason with the child: "The village isn't safe at night. If you keep acting out like this, just because..."

"Just because a little shrimp like me wouldn't even be enough to fill the gaps in a Murloc or troll's teeth if I ran into one." Rudely interrupting her attempt at comfort, Jain made a face at Ilana and, catching her off guard, yanked his hem from her grasp. "Why are you just like my mother? I'm sick of hearing these things, it's so annoying. No wonder you can't get married!"

"You..." Jain's words struck a nerve, leaving Ilana momentarily speechless and unable to find a retort.

Seeing this, Jain's eyes darted around like a little fox, and just as he was about to take the opportunity to strike again, he was interrupted by a figure stepping out from behind her.

"You little brat, your mother is calling you home for dinner." His gray-white hair was tied back in a slightly messy fashion, and though his tattered robe lacked any foul odor, it appeared somewhat eerie against the backdrop of the night. With those piercing eyes and a pale complexion, Lanlos's appearance caused Jain to involuntarily hold his breath.

"Didn't you hear me?" Jain's stunned silence seemed to irritate this mysterious outsider who was so enigmatic among the village children. Leaning on his cane, Lanlos took a slow step toward him, and due to the significant height difference, Jain was forced to look up at him.

The consequence of this was that his otherwise delicate face was cast into shadow, making him look like a ghoul.

"No, sir, I, I'm going home right now!" Fighting back his fear, Jain stammered with a clear sob in his voice before turning and running off into the distance without looking back.

"Thank you." Although using intimidation on a child seemed a bit excessive, the result was positive, and Ilana let out a long sigh of relief, her gratitude evident.

Without replying, Lanlos merely shook his head with a smile and began walking toward his own dwelling. Just as he turned to leave, he suddenly stopped in his tracks: "Speaking of which, you should really speed things up with Sores, otherwise these bratty kids will never let you hear the end of it..."

"That's none of your business!" Her cheeks instantly flushed a deep red. Ilana turned around sharply, only to find that Lanlos had already walked away, leaving her to stomp her feet in frustration and hurry off in the opposite direction, looking bashful.