Elven cultivators

"No wonder it's considered one of the top beginner techniques."

Anton sighed inwardly.

More than 500 years of cultivation time.

An ordinary human would have died before even reaching the Foundation Establishment stage.

Fortunately, he was an elf, one of the immortal races.

Elves have long lifespans, reaching adulthood at 100 years old, with an average lifespan between 800 and 1000 years.

Five hundred years is a long time, but it's not unacceptable.

Moreover, once you can refine pills and set up formations, with the help of external forces, you can greatly shorten the cultivation time.

If the foundation is successfully established, lifespan can be significantly extended.

Thinking about the future, Anton gritted his teeth and decided to continue cultivating the Primordial Returning to the Source Technique.

"It is now the year 9239 of the Dawn Calendar. According to history, it will be more than 600 years before the Dragon God Aio falls, and then several decades later the Dragon Slaying War will break out."

"I still have over seven hundred years to develop."

On his way back, Anton pondered his next steps.

Roman followed behind, carrying an axe and tossing it into the air every now and then. The nearly ten-pound axe felt as light as a feather in her hands.

"Anton," she suddenly spoke, "why do you always come this way?"

"Because if we went any further, the guards wouldn't let us pass."

"What do you mean?" Roman tilted his head in confusion, a strand of hair slipping from the tip of his ear.

Anton smiled but offered no explanation.

In every settlement of an elven clan, there must be a wellspring of life and a tree of eternity.

His Silver Moon clan was no exception.

Centered around the Tree of Eternity, the Silvermoon Clan established a vast settlement.

The closer you get to the Tree of Eternity, the more concentrated the spiritual energy flowing in the air—what this world calls elemental energy—becomes.

If it weren't for the guards around the Tree of Eternity, who normally don't allow ordinary tribesmen to approach, Anton would have wanted to go and meditate under the Tree of Eternity.

In that case, it would probably take two or three years to refine a primordial spiritual energy.

"So mysterious."

Roman muttered something but didn't ask any further questions.

She knew Anton too well; this guy had been hiding secrets since he was a child.

Roman flipped his wrist, hoisting the axe onto his shoulder. "The selection training is the day after tomorrow. Have you decided? Magic or combat skills?"

"Magic," Anton answered without hesitation.

Before the age of 18, the physical development of elves is almost synchronous with that of humans. After the age of 18, physical growth gradually slows down, and at most by the age of 25, the body will completely stop growing and reach the peak of adult size and appearance.

After that, this appearance will remain unchanged until the end of their lifespan.

Therefore, all young men and women of the Silvermoon Clan must choose a path after they turn 18.

Magic, or combat skills.

Only a very few geniuses can master both magic and martial arts.

In fact, several hundred years ago, this age limit was 25.

However, as the Silvermoon Clan's living environment became increasingly difficult, the clan urgently needed to strengthen its power, and the age of its members continued to decrease.

The continent of Dawn is currently under the rule of the dragon race.

The dragons established the Dragon Court in the center of the continent and sent dragons to various places to develop dragon descendants, establishing thousands of dragon cities, suppressing and exploiting the surrounding intelligent races, and demanding that they offer treasures and rare resources every year.

In addition, dragons are inherently promiscuous. Over the past ten thousand years, dragons have reproduced and mated with countless creatures, giving birth to countless sub-dragon species. These sub-dragon species have then multiplied and given birth to even more dragon beasts, resulting in the current overpopulation of sub-dragon species and dragon beasts on the continent, which ravage the wilderness and bring heavy disasters to other intelligent races living on this continent.

Elves, humans, dwarves, orcs, sea creatures... almost all intelligent races hate dragons, but are too afraid of their power to speak out.

This situation will continue until the dragon god Aio falls.

Without the protection of the Dragon God, the Dragon Clan's power was greatly diminished, and they were eventually overthrown by the united forces of all races.

Anton's current goal is to accumulate enough strength to protect himself and those around him from harm before the war that will affect the entire continent arrives.

Therefore, he wanted to see how the magic in this world differed from the cultivation system, hoping to find something he could learn from it.

"Magic? It seems quite suitable for you. You've always liked tinkering with strange and unusual things since you were little."

Roman swung his axe, a hint of longing in his smile. "I plan to choose combat skills. I want to become a strongman like the captain of the guard."

Anton glanced at the axe in her hand and nodded in deep agreement.

Roman is indeed very well suited to the warrior route.

As they spoke, the two had already returned to the outer residential area.

Influenced by the Tree of Eternity and the Fountain of Life, the trees here are much taller and thicker than those in other places.

The roots rise up from the ground, forming natural arches and corridors, which the elven craftsmen transformed into winding paths with just a few delicate carvings.

Each tree is an independent dwelling, with vines serving as ladders and suspended platforms built between branches. Transparent leaves and bark fibers are woven into cocoons that hang beneath the canopy.

From a distance, it looks as if countless pale green lanterns are floating in the mist, swaying gently in the wind.

A tall oak guardian walked towards us, its canopy and branches rustling.

These living plants are the most loyal guardians of the settlement.

Roman's eyes were immediately drawn to it. He raised the axe and brandished it a couple of times, eager to try.

Anton grabbed her by the back of her collar and dragged her away.

Ever since this girl became obsessed with axes, she wants to chop everything she sees.

Last time, she secretly cut down a dead tree, and the forest guards quickly tracked her down and found her. She was locked up for a month before being released.

The elves believe that trees are not only resources, but also bear souls and life, and are even ancient guardians.

They regard trees as their fellow citizens and will never cut them down indiscriminately.

In any elven clan, cutting down trees without a reason is forbidden.

Of course, the dark elves living underground didn't think that way.

Although you can hardly see any trees underground.

"I just want to see!" Roman argued, pulling his hand away.

Anton ignored her. He knew Roman didn't really want to cut down the oak guard; she just... couldn't help herself, like a cat seeing a flickering light.

Anton and Roman's parents died more than a decade ago in a battle against the lizardmen, and the two were raised by the clan.

For clans with low birth rates and small populations, every child is precious, so the clan takes great care of them, and the two of them have never suffered much hardship from childhood to adulthood.

After agreeing to go to the training ground together the next day, Anton and Roman returned to their respective treehouses.

Entering the house, Anton closed the door and gently knocked on the light source stone hanging on the wall. Instantly, the light source stone emitted a soft yet bright light, dispelling the darkness in the room.

Lightstone is a special mineral that has symbiotic luminescent bacteria. The elves collect it and keep it indoors like a potted plant, using it as a light source.

Anton went to the window and his gaze fell on the honeybee bonsai on the windowsill.

With a slight thought, primordial spiritual energy surged from the dantian, transforming into a warm, emerald-green color as it flowed.

He pressed his palms lightly against the ceramic basin on the windowsill, infusing the transformed wood-elemental spiritual energy into the roots of the honeybee.

The waxy leaves trembled slightly, the yellow bell-shaped flowers on the branches suddenly tightened, the petals thickened and turned into fruit skin, the flower stem bulged, and the color gradually changed from light gold to rich honey yellow. The fleshy fruit swelled and plumped up at a speed visible to the naked eye, hanging upside down on the branches and leaves.

In just a few breaths, three honeybees ripened and fell from the branches. A gentle touch produced a rustling sound like a distant, hoarse wind.

Anton plucked one and put it in his mouth. The thin skin broke open between his teeth, and thick honey syrup flowed into his mouth. The floral fragrance was sweet, with a slightly astringent aftertaste.