Times have changed, Elder

"Pass down my command!"

Ellari's voice echoed through the royal hall, carrying supreme authority.

"Summon every craftsman! Have them drop everything at once and begin mass-producing these bows and crossbows!"

She unfurled the parchment blueprint across the royal desk with a sharp rustle.

"Every detail on these plans must be reproduced without the slightest deviation!"

"Your Majesty, please reconsider!"

Elder Archmond finally recovered his voice after witnessing the Compound Bow's brutal power. He stepped forward, his carefully braided beard trembling.

"This... this goes against every tradition of our people! If it disrupts the regular supply deliveries to the front, the consequences will be unthinkable!"

"Tradition?"

Ellari slowly turned, her moon-white gown sweeping through a cold arc.

Her gaze pierced Archmond like a pair of ice-tempered blades.

"Elder, tell me, is our tradition to stand by and watch our cities fall one after another, our people die unit after unit?!"

The Queen's voice suddenly sharpened, every word striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer.

Archmond's face went deathly pale.

"Times have changed, Elder."

Ellari's gaze swept over every Elf noble present. Her voice grew calm again, yet carried even greater weight.

"The best tradition is the one that keeps us alive!"

Archmond opened his mouth, but not a single word came out. In the end, he could only bow and retreat in shame.

The Queen's decision set the vast machine of Avenor City whirring at a frantic pace.

Countless stores of precious purplewood, ironheart wood, and flexible metals were hauled from the treasury and delivered to the immense workshops inside the mountain.

For the first time, the Elf craftsmen abandoned the artistic carving and engraved patterns they took such pride in.

They began staring blankly at the cold terms on the blueprints: "tolerance," "lever arm," and "pulley system."

To them, these words were more obscure than the language of abyssal demons.

Like children learning to walk, they fumbled toward an understanding of a new, brutal aesthetic called "industry."

Yet just as the entire city was swept up in the excitement of acquiring new weapons, terrible news shattered the royal capital's peace like a doomsday meteor falling from the sky.

"Report!!!"

A piercing cry tore through the air.

Before a griffin could even land, the rider on its back leaped from ten meters up, rolled to break his fall, and charged into the palace.

His helmet flew off, revealing a young face twisted with fear.

"Her Majesty the Queen! Urgent news from the front!"

Ellari was reviewing the trial production report for the first batch of Compound Bows. She looked up at the cry, her heart sinking.

The rider knelt on the floor, his voice shrill and distorted.

"The Demon Clan... the Demon Clan deployed Burrowing Giant Serpents and tunneled through the earth beneath Lothia City!"

"Their army has already reached the heartland of the World Tree!!!"

"What?!"

With a crash, Ellari sprang from her throne, the report fluttering from her hand to the floor.

The magnificent royal hall fell utterly silent.

A moment later, icy terror spread like a plague.

The heartland of the World Tree!

That was Lothia City's home!

If the enemy broke through there, the hundreds of thousands of Elves in Lothia City would be doomed!

"Archmond!"

Ellari's voice trembled with sheer shock.

"Assemble every member of the Royal Guard except those defending the city! We leave immediately to reinforce Lothia!"

"Yes, Your Majesty!"

Elder Archmond no longer spared a thought for tradition. His face was even paler than the Queen's as he turned and stumbled out.

The mournful, defiant sound of war horns rang out over Avenor City.

The flame of hope that had only just kindled throughout the city was instantly quenched by a bucket of icy water from hell.

Countless Elf soldiers hurried to assemble from the workshops, their homes, and the training grounds.

Yet when they gathered in the square, everyone fell silent.

A mere twenty thousand.

This was the Elf Kingdom's last remaining fighting force.

An air of despair and tragic resolve hung over every Elf.

Ellari strode down from her throne, and her maids draped her in mithril armor.

She intended to lead the army herself.

Even if she died, she would die alongside her people.

But just as she took her helmet and was about to put it on, another urgent cry sounded from the sky.

Another messenger!

He rode a Hippogriff, landing swiftly in the center of the square.

His face was streaked with tears and mud, his expression wild with elation.

He leaped from his mount and shouted excitedly:

"A great victory!!!"

The clamor in the square ceased at once.

Every Elf preparing to march to their death stood frozen in place, as though struck by a petrification spell.

Ellari froze too, her hands stopping halfway through putting on her helmet.

What had she just heard?

Was she hallucinating?

"Her Majesty the Queen! Lothia City... a great victory!!!"

"We... we won!!!"

Won?

Hadn't they just said the Demon Clan had struck at their home and the city was about to be destroyed?

How much time had even passed?

It had only been a few hours since the first messenger arrived!

Even if the Demon Clan's entire army had lined up to let the Elves cut their heads off, it couldn't have happened that fast, could it?

"What did you say?!"

Ellari flung aside her helmet, rushed down the steps, and seized the messenger by his collar, lifting him off the ground as she demanded an answer.

"Explain yourself! How did the battle go?! Where is Fendona?!"

"The Demon Clan... we drove the Demon Clan back!" The messenger was so excited that his words tumbled over one another. He waved his arms wildly, trying to describe that staggering scene.

"Bodies! The bodies were piled higher than mountains! Their green blood flowed in rivers!"

"Princess Fendona said it was Lord Lin Mo... the visitor from another world! He was the one who commanded us!"

"With Compound Bows and Repeating Crossbows! We won a miraculous victory!"

"Our casualties... Her Majesty the Queen, our casualties were fewer than three thousand!"

Lothia City.

The heavy stench of burning mingled with the pungent reek of blood, brewing into a nauseating odor.

Yet what enveloped the entire city was the almost delirious exhilaration of having survived a catastrophe.

Beneath the moonlight, countless Elves volunteered to clear the battlefield.

Their faces no longer bore the grief and lifeless silence of past defeats. Instead, they shone with irrepressible excitement.

As the Elves hurled the Demon Clan's twisted corpses off the walls, they laughed and talked loudly. The scene resembled a grand celebration rather than the grim cleanup after a brutal battle.

An Elf squad leader strode up to Fendona and removed his helmet. Dried green blood still stained his face, but his voice rang louder than ever.

"Your Highness! The battlefield has been cleared. Our fallen people now sleep beneath the World Tree, returned to nature's embrace!"