Elven cultivators

The Kingdom of Tieqiu.

This low-lying hilly region in the eastern part of the continent has gently undulating terrain and fertile soil that seems to have been blessed by the heavens.

This area is home to more than a dozen predominantly human states and autonomous towns, which maintain a complex and fragile network of relationships through marriage, trade, and military alliances.

It was dusk in a remote town.

In the reception room of the city lord's mansion, the fireplace was burning brightly, and the orange-red flames intertwined with the soft white light from the magic crystal lamps on the wall, illuminating the entire room warmly and brightly.

A long, dark walnut table occupied the center of the living room, its surface as smooth as a mirror, reflecting the light from the magic lamp overhead.

Four figures sat around the long table, each at just the right distance from the others.

Igner glanced around the living room, his gaze lingering on the magic crystal lamps for a moment, before breaking the silence.

"Grant, why did you arrange to meet here?"

Grant sat at one side of the long table, wearing a well-tailored dark blue casual outfit. He wasn't wearing armor, and the greatsword on his back was nowhere to be seen. He looked less sharp and more easygoing than usual.

Hearing Igner's words, he smiled slightly and said, "This is a friend's property. I'm just borrowing his place for a bit."

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"Don't let the remote location fool you, the barbecue and beer are pretty good. Everyone can try them later."

These words were spoken casually, as if inviting old friends to dinner.

But the three people present were all shrewd and immediately understood the subtext in his words.

The Kingdom of Ironhill is located in the eastern part of the continent, far away from the Holy Dragon Mountains.

This area is not within the territory of any of the five major powers.

Meeting here makes everyone feel more relaxed.

At least for the moment we sit down to talk, we can temporarily forget the conflicts and smoke of war outside.

"Speaking of which, it's been a long time since we've gathered together like this. Before the Dragon Slaying War ended, everyone was busy with their own things and didn't even have time to sit down and have a cup of tea."

"It's rare that we can all sit together now, it's just a bit of a shame that Celine can't come."

Alicia said softly, "Cerin has been designated as the next Saintess by the Temple of Tides, and she will not leave the Whirlpool Islands unless necessary."

"Saintess," Igner sighed, "it's hard to believe that Celine has come this far. I remember when we first met, she was just a little girl who was curious about everything, always asking me all sorts of questions..."

A cold snort suddenly rang out, interrupting Igna's words.

"There's no need for reminiscing or reminiscing."

Rexxar turned to Grant, her face showing impatience. "Grant, what exactly did you call us here for today?"

Upon hearing this, the atmosphere in the reception room suddenly became somewhat tense.

Igna and Alicia both frowned, clearly dissatisfied with Rexxar's attitude.

But both of them refrained from saying anything.

Grant, observing this, sighed inwardly and said, "I just wanted everyone to sit down and have a proper chat."

"I don't want to see friends who once shared the same aspirations turn into enemies."

Rexxar stared at Grant for a few seconds, then let out a cold sneer.

"Grant, I had no idea you were such a naive guy."

"Among the five pillars, besides you and Celine, the other three, including myself, are all core figures in their respective factions. Once their factions turn against each other, it is almost inevitable that they will become adversaries."

"This is not something anyone can change, nor can it be avoided by you saying a few polite words here."

The atmosphere became even more tense.

Alicia lowered her eyes and remained silent.

She disliked war and had no interest in power struggles or the distribution of benefits.

But her position meant there were some things she couldn't avoid.

Igna didn't say anything, but simply picked up the wine flask, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp.

He is the guardian of the furnaces at the heart of the mountains.

They once swore an oath before the First Flame Furnace to protect their people.

Now that his community is facing war, he can no longer afford to remain uninvolved.

This isn't a question of whether I want to or not; it's simply that being in this position means I'm destined to bear the corresponding responsibilities.

Grant observed their silence, his feelings growing increasingly complicated.

From the moment the flames of war reignited in the Holy Dragon Mountains, he knew this day would come sooner or later.

Knowing this, he still held onto a sliver of hope, wanting to avoid this outcome.

Even if it's all in vain.

He recalled the scene many years ago when the five of them first gathered together to discuss the establishment of the Meteor Dragon Society.

Back then, they were just five young people with ideals.

They come from different races and have different backgrounds, but they share the same goal.

Overthrow the Dragon Clan!

Now, the dragon race has been wiped out.

The goal that had brought them together had vanished.

Those who once traveled the same road naturally dispersed.

It's not a matter of who's right and who's wrong.

But fate is cruel.

Rexxar clearly didn't want to stay any longer.

He stood up from his chair, his tall figure casting a long shadow under the light, shrouding half the long table in gloom.

"We have different positions, there's nothing more to say."

"If we meet again on the battlefield, I will not show any mercy."

Rexxar turned to look at Grant, a fleeting, elusive emotion flashing in his eyes before being replaced by cold indifference.

"Grant, let me give you a piece of advice: since you haven't been involved in the war, don't go looking for trouble. Otherwise, if you ever cross paths with me, I won't hold back."

After saying that, he didn't linger and turned to walk towards the door.

The reception room fell silent again.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting the shadows of the three remaining people onto the wall, their lengths shifting and changing.

Igna remained silent for a while before getting up as well.

He hung the wine flask at his waist, looked up at Grant, and his gaze was complicated.

"Grant, I didn't want it to come to this either."

"But the heart of the mountains is my home, my people need me, and I cannot disregard the safety of my people because of personal relationships."

Grant looked at Igner, sighed, and nodded without saying anything to stop him.

Igna gave him one last look, then turned and walked toward the door.

The door was pushed open again, then closed again.

Alicia then stood up as well: "I should go too."

Grant looked at her, hesitated, and finally just whispered, "Goodbye."

Alicia nodded slightly, got up and walked towards the door.

As she reached the door, she suddenly stopped, turned to the side, and looked at Grant.

"We all have our own positions and responsibilities. It's not about right or wrong; it's just that we've chosen different paths."

Grant paused for a moment, then gave a wry smile.

"Yes... different paths."

Alicia didn't say anything more and left.

The door closed behind her, shutting out the slender figure.

Grant was finally left alone in the drawing room.

He sat in the chair, staring at the three empty chairs opposite him, and remained silent for a long time.

Outside the window, night had completely enveloped the entire town.

A few occasional barks of dogs drifted from afar, echoing in the empty night before being quickly dispersed by the wind.