Elven cultivators

In the dimly lit room, thirteen figures sat around a round table.

Everyone was wrapped in a wide black robe, with the brim of their hat pulled very low, their faces completely hidden in the shadows, only the outline of their chins and the occasional twitch of their lips were visible.

There were no decorations or documents on the table, only a number engraved in front of each person, from one to thirteen, arranged in a closed circle.

The room had no windows on any of its four walls, only the dim yellow light of an oil lamp in the corner casting long and short shadows on the rough stone wall.

Silence enveloped the entire room, creating a somewhat eerie atmosphere.

The man in black robes sitting in the first seat leaned forward and spoke slowly.

"So far, we have collected enough death energy to support the start of the ritual. Next, we can begin preparations to open the Abyss."

As soon as he finished speaking, the atmosphere around the round table changed instantly.

The third seat chuckled softly: "The progress is much faster than expected. In fact, we have to thank the five major powers. If they hadn't launched the Dragon Slaying War and fought each other for the Holy Dragon Mountain Range, causing chaos all over the continent, we wouldn't have been able to collect enough death energy in such a short time."

"A bunch of utterly foolish bastards." The Fifth Seat sneered. "No matter how fiercely they fight now, they're just doing us a favor. I really want to see the expressions on their faces when the Holy Dragon Mountains fall into our hands."

A few low, ambiguous laughs echoed from the table, like the wind blowing through a dry well.

The First Seat raised his finger and tapped it lightly twice on the table: "Let's skip the small talk and get down to business. There are currently three locations that meet the conditions for starting the ritual: the Starlight Plains of the Free Alliance, the Great Vortex Sea, and the Wind-Weeping Canyon in the northern part of the continent. Which one do you think we should choose?"

A moment of silence fell around the round table.

The men in black robes lowered their eyes, seemingly pondering and comparing the pros and cons of the three locations.

After a long pause, the fourth seatman finally broke the silence.

"Let's rule out the area with the large whirlpool first."

The first seatmate turned his head to look at him, and the shadow of the hood flickered slightly.

"reason."

The fourth seat said in a deep voice, "I recently received intelligence that Anton is currently in the Great Whirlpool Sea. We'd better avoid running into him."

There was a brief moment of silence around us.

The name Anton is renowned throughout the Ring of Annihilation.

To date, any attempt to involve Anton has ultimately failed.

From the Fire Blaze Merchant Guild's covert operations to the ambush by the earth elemental giants in Ure Valley, and the collection of death energy in the Crimson Blood Fertile Soil... every seemingly perfect plan inevitably collapsed as long as he was involved.

Even core members at the peak of the legendary level died at his hands.

That's just too weird.

This recurring "coincidence" has turned the name into something taboo within their community.

"Just because of that?" The third seat scoffed. "You're afraid of Anton, but I'm not."

The fourth seatman remained calm upon hearing this, saying in his usual composed tone, "It's not that I'm afraid, it's that there's no need to be."

"Anton is at the pinnacle of sainthood, one of the top experts on the continent. There is no need for us to take unnecessary risks to provoke him. Opening the Netherworld is the organization's top priority. If something goes wrong, no one can afford to take the blame. Even if we can eventually deal with him, we will inevitably pay an unnecessary price and delay the progress of the plan. It would be a losing proposition."

The seventh seat then spoke up: "I agree with the fourth seat's opinion. Even without mentioning Anton, the Great Whirlpool Sea itself is not suitable as a location for the ceremony. It is the headquarters of the Tide Temple. The current Holy Maiden is proficient in astrology. If she foresees something in advance, it may affect the implementation of the plan. There is no need to create unnecessary complications."

"Moreover, the whirlpool area is far from the mainland, and even if the ceremony is successfully launched, the subsequent march and spread will be greatly restricted. Strategically speaking, it is the worst choice among the three locations."

Seeing that the seventh seat had said so, the third seat snorted coldly and did not argue further.

Those present were not surprised by this.

The core member of the legendary group who died at Anton's hands was the younger brother of the Third Seat.

It's normal for him to hate Anton.

Seeing that no one else spoke up, the First Seat finally made the decision.

"Then let's rule out the whirlpool area."

"At the remaining two locations, prepare for the ceremony simultaneously. Whichever location is ready first, proceed with the ceremony there. Any objections?"

The round table was silent; no one spoke.

The first seatmate nodded slightly: "That's settled then, meeting adjourned."

……

In the northern part of the continent, at Bloodhowl Fortress.

From the air, this orcish holy land looks like a giant beast lying on its side on the plain.

The city wall was built of whole blocks of dark, massive rocks, with countless runes embedded in its surface, which gleamed with a cold, hard metallic luster under the sunlight.

The towers are densely packed and evenly distributed along the city wall, with the magic crystal cannons at the top of the towers pointing slightly outwards, always ready to fire at any time.

Just by looking at it, one can tell that this is a heavily fortified and impregnable city.

A cavalry unit poured in through the north gate.

The horses were so exhausted that they were foaming at the mouth and nose, and the riders' armor was covered with dust and dried blood.

After passing through the city gate, they did not slow down and rushed along the main street toward the inner city.

The cavalrymen only reined in their horses and dismounted when they reached the steps in front of the inner fortress.

Rexxar casually tossed the reins to the approaching soldier and waved to his men behind him.

"Go and rest. I'll call you if anything happens."

After speaking, he strode up the steps, passed through the main gate of the inner fortress, and headed towards the council chamber.

There were already seven or eight orcs sitting around the long table in the hall.

Their demeanor, whether imposing or composed, clearly indicates that they are people in high positions.

Upon entering the hall, Rexxar immediately bowed to the chieftain Gormash, who was seated at the head of the table.

"Great Chieftain, the royal army of the Nord River Basin has been completely wiped out."

Gormash nodded slightly, his tone indifferent: "Thank you for your hard work."

Despite having just won a match, those present did not show much joy.

The atmosphere, however, became somewhat heavy.

Rexxar sensed something was wrong and asked, "What happened?"

Although Rexxar was young, he was a true saint, and no one present treated him as a junior. Upon hearing this, an elder truthfully said, "Just half a day ago, the royal army attacked Deer Horn City, the local garrison was completely wiped out, and all the supplies in the city were taken away."

Rexxar frowned immediately: "Deer Horn City is over a thousand kilometers away from the front lines. How did the royal army manage to penetrate so deep..."

He suddenly realized what he was saying, and his face darkened.

"Another fleet?"

The elder nodded: "Since the Silvermoon Clan's fleet joined the war, our rear has been frequently attacked, and we have been unable to defend against it. The losses caused by this are countless, and it has even affected the morale of the front lines."

As he said this, the elder glanced at Elder Jinna, who was sitting opposite him, with a look that was neither too strong nor too weak.

The latter's eyes twitched, and he remained silent with a gloomy face.

Rexxar immediately understood.

Elder Jinna was the mastermind behind the Bloodclaw Clan's alliance with the eastern forces to attack the Silvermoon Clan.

That plan wasn't exactly wrong.

If the Bloodclaw Clan truly wipes out the Silvermoon Clan, the fortress will have eliminated a destabilizing factor and may even gain access to the fleet. Elder Jinnah would undoubtedly have accomplished a great feat.

The problem is that the plan failed.

As a result, several elders who were at odds with Elder Jinna immediately jumped out to accuse him of being impulsive and reckless.

The Silvermoon Clan originally refused the Emerald Court's summons, but after the war, they unexpectedly lent their fleet to the Emerald Court and even sent a puppet army to participate in the war. Everyone knew that this was clearly retaliation for the fortress's involvement in the matter.

The losses suffered by the fortress were undoubtedly Elder Kinna's responsibility.

The elders have been attacking each other several times over this matter.

Seeing that the elders were about to start arguing again, Gormash raised his hand to interrupt them.

"The fleet's attack is nothing. Just have the Iron Feather Legion increase patrols and be more vigilant."

"The key is still the war on the front lines. Let the front lines intensify their offensive. Once the battle on the main battlefield is decided, the royal court will have no spare strength to harass our rear."

The elders exchanged glances, stopped arguing, and responded in unison.

Gormash then looked at Rexxar. "You should go and rest."

Rexxar nodded, said nothing more, and turned to leave the council chamber.

As Rexxar walked out of the corridor, his gaze fell on the light at the end of the corridor, his expression particularly complex.

The Silvermoon Clan, which he had initially disregarded, had unknowingly grown so powerful that even the Great Chieftain and elders were wary of them.