The light in the hall was relatively dim, and everyone present was a Druid of Eleventh Level or above.
They were holding their monthly routine meeting.
The atmosphere was somewhat stifling. No one paid attention to the Archdruid who was delivering his report.
Instead, they were watching the Guild Chairman—Romon, who sat listening quietly.
Soft, pale light shone upon him. His eyes were deep and mysterious, and every gesture he made carried calm composure.
Looking at him now, no one could deny that Romon possessed an indescribably unique charm. Though he still wore the same faint smile as before, the Druids present all keenly sensed that Romon was now completely different from before.
Or perhaps they had felt it recently, but only at this moment was it fully revealed.
Desika was already seventy years old, yet this was only the third time he had sensed such a trait. Thinking of the vast and pure power of nature from the previous night, he had already formed a suspicion.
Such a young Druid possesses such formidable power. He is only thirty-three this year! Why has nature bestowed such favor upon this man?
Before the man in front of him, Desika felt admiration, jealousy, and even a trace of worry.
In the eyes of the Archdruids, the surrounding elements were cheering as they drew close.
These Archdruids were all intelligent people. At this moment, quite a few of them shared feelings and realizations similar to Desika's. This strange sensation caused the entire meeting hall to fall into an exceptionally peculiar atmosphere.
The Archdruids present even seemed somewhat restrained. Even those few Archdruids who were usually accustomed to being lax now sat upright and solemn before Romon.
Once the Archdruid finished his report, Romon began to speak.
"...The current situation is good. These are