Elven cultivators

Silvermoon Forest, in front of the warning line.

A row of tall oak trees stood silently guarding the way, their branches stretching out like giant arms, their canopies layered and intertwined, cutting the sunlight into countless tiny spots of light.

Dozens of figures stood silently beneath the tree.

In addition to the high-ranking members of the elven clans, the three dwarven elders of Grayrock Fortress were also present.

Everyone stared intently at the enormous water curtain in the void ahead.

The mirror bird faithfully projects the scene of the wasteland onto it, revealing every detail.

On the wasteland, gray-green lizardmen spread out like a tide, densely packed and stretching as far as the eye could see.

At a rough glance, there are at least seven or eight thousand.

They formed several square formations on the plain. Although the formations were loose, chaotic, and undisciplined, their overwhelming aura seemed to pierce through the water curtain, causing everyone present to unconsciously tense their backs.

Judging from this number, the Molten Thorn tribe has clearly mobilized its entire force, intending to annihilate the Silver Moon clan in one battle.

However, what is even more eye-catching are the hundreds of exceptionally large creatures next to the lizardman formation.

They are 2.5 to 3 meters tall, with a robust physique like a hill, and their grayish-brown skin is rough like rock, covered with crack-like patterns, resembling walking stone statues.

"Stone-skinned troll..."

The Second Elder spoke in a low voice, his expression solemn.

Everyone's expressions turned serious.

Stone-skinned trolls are of low intelligence but possess immense strength and extremely tenacious vitality.

Ordinary swords and knives can only leave a few white marks on their stone skin, and cannot cause any fatal damage.

Even with severe limb amputation, they can slowly regenerate given enough time.

What's even more terrifying is that they are fearless and, once driven into battle, they will charge like mad dogs until they tear the enemy apart or are killed themselves.

Adult Stoneskin Trolls possess Iron-tier strength.

At this time, there were at least four or five hundred stone-skinned trolls on the plain, undoubtedly a terrifying fighting force.

"Those cold-blooded reptiles have indeed colluded with high-ranking dragon-blooded officers."

Cedric said, frowning.

Stone-skinned trolls are one of the main forces in the vassal army of Krethor Dragon City, and can only be deployed by high-ranking dragonborn officers.

The appearance of a Stoneskin Troll army at the moment when the Molten Thorn Horde is attacking Silvermoon Forest speaks volumes.

"No wonder the Molten Thorn Tribe has been holding back all this time; they've gone to Dragon City to seek reinforcements."

Irene glanced at Anton unconsciously, feeling a sense of relief.

If Anton hadn't created the Yellow Turban Warriors, the combined forces of the Silvermoon Clan and Grayrock Fortress would have had a very tough time facing the lizardman army aided by the Stone-skinned Trolls.

"For hundreds of years, the Melting Thorn tribe has raided our homeland, killed our people, and burned our trees."

The Grand Elder spoke slowly, his voice deep and powerful, drawing everyone's attention back from the water curtain.

"Today is the day to settle old scores."

"yes!"

The elves responded in unison, their eyes burning with suppressed rage, eager to incinerate the lizardman army outside the forest.

The First Elder nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to the three dwarf elders and bowed slightly in solemn respect.

"Thank you for your support, three of you. The Silvermoon Clan will remember this kindness."

"Elder, you're too kind."

Hagrid waved his hand, revealing a hearty smile beneath his beard.

"I've had my eye on those crawlers for ages, today's the perfect day to give them a good thrashing!"

Knut replied in a muffled voice, "Dwarves are never afraid of fighting, let alone fighting lizardmen."

Thorvin didn't say much, but silently took the warhammer from his waist.

The elder smiled slightly, said no more, and turned to look at Anton.

"Anton, the Yellow Turban Warrior is now in your hands."

Anton nodded calmly, his hand stroking the dimensional bag at his waist.

The Yellow Turban Warriors are a formidable force; if used effectively, they can inflict heavy losses on the enemy.

His task is to determine when and how to use it.

"Elder, I have prepared some things that can help everyone."

With a flick of his wrist, Anton conjured a stack of talismans in his palm.

Before the elder could speak, Roman exclaimed in surprise, "Hey, isn't this the yellow paper you pasted in the room before?"

Roman had been to Anton's residence quite often, so he had naturally seen the spirit-gathering talisman that Anton had previously pasted in the quiet room.

She had asked him what it was out of curiosity, but Anton had given her a perfunctory answer.

But things are different now.

After successfully establishing his foundation, Anton felt much less worried.

In addition, this war is of vital importance to the clan, and it is not the time to hide it. Therefore, while he was refining the Yellow Turban Warriors, he also took the time to prepare a batch of talismans to enhance his own combat power.

Seeing is believing, no matter how well it is described. Anton immediately took out a Lightness Talisman, activated it, and slapped it onto Roman.

In an instant, a blue halo flashed across Roman's body, and then she stared in surprise.

"I feel so much lighter!" Roman jumped up and down a few times, his eyes shining with surprise. "It's amazing!"

The surrounding crowd was drawn to this scene and cast surprised glances at it.

The Grand Elder raised an eyebrow, and asked thoughtfully, "Anton, what are these... scrolls?"

"Pretty much." Anton lied shamelessly, his expression calm and composed. "This is a new type of scroll I designed; I call it a talisman."

The group looked at each other, their expressions varied.

After what happened before, they are now somewhat used to, or rather, numb to, the occasional bursts of surprise from Anton.

In their view, it's not surprising what Anton does now.

"This is a lightness amulet, which enhances speed and reaction ability."

"This is a Vajra Talisman, which can form an energy shield on the body to enhance defense."

"This is a Strength Talisman, which can enhance the strength of your arms."

"This is a Golden Blade Talisman, which can increase the sharpness and hardness of weapons."

With each sentence Anton spoke, he would slap a corresponding talisman onto Roman.

Through Roman's hands-on experience and feelings, everyone quickly understood the function of these talismans.

The three elders exchanged glances, and each could see the surprise in the other's eyes.

They think more deeply than the other elves.

The talismans that Anton made didn't have any particularly unusual effects; magic scrolls could achieve similar results.

The problem is that magic scrolls are not cheap to make; they require special parchment, spiritual ink, and the spellcaster to use a lot of magic to carefully draw them.

The cost of using magic scrolls on a large scale to enhance the army's combat power during wartime would undoubtedly be astronomical.

And Anton hasn't applied to the clan for a large amount of materials to make magic scrolls recently, so how did he make so many scrolls... uh... talismans?