Elven cultivators

The Dark Realm has no distinction between day and night, but the glowing moss deep within the dome alternates between light and dark over time, mimicking the day and night cycle on the surface of the earth.

This is the deepest moment of the night.

The fireflies glowed dimly, like dying embers, casting only a faint, pale green light on the ground.

Deep within the Crimson Soul Cave, the Blood Soul Crystal Cluster emitted an eerie scarlet light, dyeing the entire space a dark red.

The petals of the crystal cluster are layered upon each other, with sharp edges like knives. With each pulse, a visible pale red ripple spreads outward from the base of the crystal cluster, like a heartbeat.

This is a neutral zone in the Red Blood Fertile Land.

Normally, the thirteen city-states would send people here every month to collect Blood Soul Crystals according to the agreed quota.

The various factions set up temporary camps around the cave, maintaining an unspoken distance from each other and keeping to themselves.

However, the atmosphere at the cave entrance today is quite different from usual.

Large numbers of troops were moving in and out of various temporary camps, in a state of readiness for battle.

But everyone tacitly maintained restraint, and no army rashly left the camp and approached the cave.

It was as if an invisible boundary stretched between the camp and the cave, and no one dared to cross it.

At the cave entrance, a rough stone table is temporarily placed on a flat rock platform.

Thirteen stone chairs were arranged around the stone table. The chair backs were of different heights and made of different materials. Some were covered with animal hides, some were inlaid with bone pieces, and some were engraved with runes.

At this moment, all the stone chairs are already full of people.

Thirteen lords sat around the stone table, the atmosphere heavy and stagnant.

The person seated at the head of the table was a dark elf.

Her features were exquisitely sharp, with slightly high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and thin lips pressed into a straight line.

Her long, silvery-white hair was neatly tied back, revealing her pointed ears. A row of tiny silver rings adorned her earlobes, extending from the earlobes to the tips, shimmering with a cold, eerie light.

Her skin was dark gray, like weathered granite, yet smooth without a single wrinkle.

Only a few extremely fine lines at the corners of his eyes silently tell the story of the passage of time.

Marise Vian

The First Mistress of Vion City, the most powerful figure in the Crimson Fertile Land.

She leaned back in her chair, her right elbow resting on the armrest, her fingertips touching her forehead, her eyes slightly closed, as if she were resting.

His composed demeanor was completely out of place in the stagnant atmosphere around him.

"Maris, what brings you here?"

The lord of the Grish, Gulag, sitting to her right and below her, was the first to break the silence and spoke in a deep voice.

His face, rough as rock, was framed by a pair of murky eyes that stared intently at the Dark Elf Matriarch with obvious impatience.

Marise opened her eyes and gave him a mocking look.

"Stop playing dumb, Gulag. I don't believe you didn't notice what the new neighbor was up to."

Upon hearing this, all twelve lords, including the Glaishite Lord, had their eyes gleaming.

Of course they know.

The force called "Nine Nether City" has been expanding at an alarming pace in recent years, constantly sending out people to occupy large tracts of land.

The key point is that they also carried out extremely exaggerated transformations of those lands.

Light bathed those lands, making them resemble the surface world, devoid of any of the gloom and oppression of the dark regions.

The sheer scale of their investment and the sheer wealth they possessed left the subterranean races, accustomed to the barrenness of the Darklands, speechless with astonishment.

But at the same time, worries were also spreading in their hearts.

That force is getting closer and closer to the Crimson Blood Fertile Land, and sooner or later it will encroach on their territory.

Marise's gaze slowly swept over everyone present: "The reason I called this meeting is to discuss how to deal with that new neighbor."

As soon as he finished speaking, the mushroom lord said, "Maris, they haven't invaded our territory, is there any need to take action?"

Maris glanced disdainfully at the mushroom lord and scoffed.

"Innocent."

"The enemy's territory is constantly encroaching on the Crimson Fertile Land, and they've secretly sent out a large number of spies to gather intelligence on us. It's obvious they're targeting us. Are you planning to bury your head in the sand and wait until the enemy's blade is at your throat before you regret it?"

She paused, her voice suddenly turning cold.

"This is the Underdark, our territory. Those damned surface creatures dare to try and take our land. You can tolerate it, but I can't."

The umbrella-like canopy on the mushroom lord's head contracted slightly, but he remained silent.

Of all the city-states present, the Fung people were the weakest.

He didn't want to have an unnecessary conflict with this dark elf matriarch, who was known for her ruthlessness.

Moreover... he himself had the same concerns deep down.

The dwarf lord of Dilo, who was sitting next to him, scoffed.

"Maris, don't make it sound so high and mighty."

"Who doesn't know that you dark elves and surface elves are mortal enemies? It's clear that you want to deal with Nine Nether City and are using us as pawns."

Maris's expression remained unchanged upon hearing this.

"I don't deny that I did want to wipe out those surface elves. But what makes you think I'm using you as pawns?"

"If they truly intend to invade the Crimson Blood Fertile Land, do they think they can simply destroy our city of Vion and then live in peace with you?"

"Those surface elves are not just enemies of our city of Vion."

The dwarf lord of Dilo paused, a fierce glint flashing in his single eye, before finally letting out a cold snort and turning his head away.

A moment of silence fell around the stone table.

This time, it was Lord Kou Tao the Murloc who spoke.

"Maris, what are you planning to do?"

Maris narrowed her eyes, a cold glint flashing deep within her pupils.

"Nine Nether City is clearly preparing for war. Once they are ready and launch an attack, we will be at a disadvantage."

"What we need to do is take the initiative now, seize control, and at the same time set up the battlefield outside of the Red Blood Fertile Land, using the complex terrain to wage guerrilla warfare against the enemy."

Why did those surface spirits invest so much manpower and resources in modifying the terrain?

"Isn't it because they can't adapt to the environment here?"

"In that case, we should certainly make good use of this advantage."

"We want those surface elves to experience the terror of the Underdark and understand that this is not a place for them."

The lords looked at each other in bewilderment.

The dwarf lord of Dilo frowned and asked, "How will the spoils be distributed?"

Maris said calmly, "The spoils will be distributed according to the proportion of casualties suffered by each city-state in this war. The city-state with the heaviest casualties will receive a larger share of the spoils."

The lords present were all taken aback and cast suspicious glances at Maris.

When did dark elves become so agreeable?

As they had originally anticipated, the dark elves would certainly make exorbitant demands, asking for 50% or 60% of the share.

After some haggling, the price was finally reduced to 40%.

Just like the distribution ratio of Blood Soul Crystals in the Crimson Blood Cave.

Who would have thought that Maris would adopt such a "fair" distribution method?

This method is not very advantageous for the relatively small population of dark elves.

Despite the surprised and suspicious looks from the crowd, Maris remained calm and said, "I have one condition: all the elves captured in this war must be handed over to the city of Vion for disposal."

Upon hearing this, all the lords showed expressions of "I knew it."

I knew those damn blacks wouldn't be so kind.

It seems they harbor deep hatred for their fellow surface races; they're even willing to make concessions in their quest for revenge.

The lords exchanged glances, each weighing the pros and cons with their own thoughts.

Some people whispered a few words, while others remained silent, lost in thought.

In the end, it was the Grage Stone Lord Gulag who nodded first.

"Okay, I agree."

With the Grishman taking the lead, the other lords followed suit.

A few who remained silent—such as the dwarf lord of Dilo—simply snorted but offered no objection.

Although they disliked the dark elves, they couldn't deny that Maris made a valid point.

Rather than sit back and wait for death, it is better to take the initiative.

Moreover, the conditions offered by this alliance are indeed much better than they had anticipated.

Maris observed everyone's reactions and a slight smile played on her lips.

"Then it's decided. The alliance is formed."

"This war concerns the survival of Crimson Soil. I hope no one will sabotage the Alliance behind the scenes, or I will be the first to punish them!"

Upon hearing this, the lords said nothing on the surface, but inwardly they all sneered.

How dare you dark elves say such things?

Who doesn't know that your greatest strengths are backstabbing and infighting?

The impromptu meeting ended, and the lords departed one by one.

Most of the troops in the distant camp had also withdrawn.

In the blink of an eye, the entrance to the cave became much quieter.

Maris sat alone on the stone chair, watching the last lord's figure disappear into the depths of the passageway.

She slightly tugged at the corners of her mouth, revealing a cold smile.

A bunch of idiots!

What's wrong with making more concessions on the distribution of spoils?

Do you really think you'll get it in the end?

They're just a bunch of fools being used.

Without a sound, a dark figure appeared behind Maris.

It had no physical form, but rather resembled a solidified shadow, slowly rising from the darkness of the ground with an indistinct outline. Only two dark red dots of light flickered slightly where they should have been eyes.

Marise narrowed her eyes, but did not turn around.

"The plan is going very smoothly," the shadowy figure said in a hoarse, low voice.

Maris said calmly, "It was expected. They didn't have a choice to begin with. In this situation, as long as we add a little incentive, their reaction is not hard to predict."

The shadowy figure spoke with a hint of a smile: "It seems that cooperating with you was a wise choice."

Maris stood up, glanced at the dark figure, and said indifferently, "I hope you will keep your promise."

"Don't worry, even if you don't believe in us, you should believe in the power of the Oath of the Underworld."

The shadowy figure chuckled softly.

"As long as Vion City helps us gather enough death energy, we will definitely help you take over Crimson Blood Fertile Land and Nine Nether City."

"At that time, Vion City will be the sole overlord of this region."

A glint flashed in Marise's eyes, and a seductive smile finally appeared on her face.

"Overlord... I like that title."