Therefore, he had to keep an eye on the progress on that side.

The good news was that the elf didn't care to keep secrets—he could feel the surge of magic unleashed by the enchanter even in his own abode.

The most outrageous thing is that this frenzy is not only powerful, but also terrifyingly dense.

If nothing unexpected happens, the final work the elves will produce will be terrifyingly glittering with jewels.

Emilia could even imagine the scene where all the gorgeous jewels were engraved with inscriptions.

Of course, the one who was under the greatest psychological pressure was a certain heartless girl who was slightly tilting her ear and stuffing bad news into his ears one after another.

"... Remarkable." Mithril said seriously, "As expected, the power bestowed upon the Chosen by Corellon is not fixed at all. To be more precise, it is distributed entirely according to the Chosen's needs.

"That enchanter named Rainbow had no power to resist Fenwe because she was a well-protected professional enchanter who had never fought anyone in her life. The bad news is that for someone like her, because she was so dedicated, the blessing she received from Corellon seemed to be..."

Then, the Goddess of the Magic Web said solemnly, "...Corellon seems to allow her to output power far exceeding her true strength during the moment of enchantment. Therefore, when she enchants the magic herself, the finished product is probably only comparable to the works of some weaker gods."

Emiya exhaled.

The good news is that Corellon still has some dignity and won't create magic items himself.

The bad news is that even if Corellon doesn't leave the field, he can't win.

In other words, if the elf didn't make a mistake... even if he really gave it his all, his chances of winning the second game would be slim.

At this moment, Emilia was in the center of the hall where they lived. A huge painting frame that was dozens of meters long and nearly ten meters high stood on one side of the hall.

Fine lines had been carved into it by Emiya, faintly outlining countless lines. Others could only vaguely see countless human figures fighting with giant beasts beside a fallen giant tree.

No amount of detail can be seen from this sketch within a sketch.

At this moment, Selûne's voice drifted quietly into the hall: "Mystril, the fool who always gets lost has finally arrived."

"Huh?" Misriel was stunned for a moment, then opened the palace door with joy.

Of course, the so-called fool who is always lost is Tyche, the goddess of fate.

At this moment, Tyche was standing beside Selune, holding Elastrid. Her face flushed slightly. She finally put Elastrid down and said defensively, "I'm not lost! I just found that Avandor, next door to my kingdom, was in a mess, and I couldn't help but eat melons there for a few days."

At this moment, Emilia was too busy to care about these intrigues, so Elastrid just glanced at him and couldn't help asking, "Is Avandor in chaos? My Lord, what happened?"

"I don't know." Tyche snapped his fingers, carved out a comfortable seat for himself in the palace, and sat down without any ceremony. "But the Seldarine started arresting people around Arvandor and asking if anyone saw anyone leave."

Originally, Misriel was half-squatting and watching Emiya working hard to make all kinds of strange and bizarre small components with no apparent function, but when he heard these words, he suddenly pricked up his ears.

Selûne hadn't reacted at all. Instead, she said seriously, "Could something have happened in Avandor? If so, we must urgently notify His Majesty Corellon. If the situation is truly urgent, we can suspend this bet and reschedule the battle another day."

Mystril wiggled her eyebrows. "Sister Selune, you've forgotten the origins of Emya and her companions. This isn't something that can be dealt with later."

Selune hesitated, then shook her head. "Things have their priorities... Mr. Emya, I can personally compensate you and your group. This is no joke."

It is because of this character of the Moon Goddess Selune that she has many friends in the Pantheon.

Emilia was silent at this moment, but did not stop what she was doing.

On the surface, this bet was quite friendly. If anything truly happened to Avandor, the bet would have to be broken. Automatically declaring them the winner was out of the question—Odin certainly wouldn't want to give them that precious promise in vain.

Odin was no pushover. If he wanted Odin to agree to hand over Phaara's tail feathers, he had to give a shocking answer in this competition.

Therefore, unlike any other duel, Corellon couldn't afford any mistakes. He had to make Corellon admit defeat with conviction, and at least on their side, absolutely no mistakes could be made. Only then would Odin agree to let him take the tail feathers.

But now, the situation is out of his control and he can only do his job well.

...the rest.

It can only be left to fate.

-----------------

"Please repeat my request again." In the Golden Palace, Corellon was still worried about his four subordinates.

Before this, he only knew that the Vasan family of Arivanda was very domineering and arrogant, but he did not take it seriously.

All golden elves have this personality.

However, he had already realized that the Vashan family's arrogance seemed to have exceeded his expectations. Therefore, he had to personally issue orders to restrain them as the God King.

If it weren't for the fact that art really couldn't treat the creator as a puppet, he would have stared at every detail!

"Our gift is for the God-King, so everything must be based on the standard of the gifts presented to the Temple of Corellon during the centennial or even millennial celebrations. It can't be higher, not lower." At this time, except for Star Furnace who was clanging iron and had no time to participate, the other three craftsmen stood respectfully in front of Corellon, repeating Corellon's requirements one by one.

"Okay, go on." Corellon waved his hand.

"The weapons and equipment we create will be used on the battlefield, so they must be practical and take into account Lord Tyr's specific situation. We cannot ignore reality."

"continue."

"The materials don't need to be rare, only valuable and functional. This is a gift to the entire pantheon, so cost is completely irrelevant."

“The delivery time of the gifts must be strictly adhered to. There cannot be any delays or re-starts for the sake of perfection. We must ensure that all work is completed before the celebration and conduct sufficient testing and adjustments to ensure that there are no mistakes,” the craftsmen said in unison.

"Finally, friendship comes first, competition comes second. Don't make enemies just for the sake of competition!"

"Very good!" Corellon breathed a sigh of relief.

Next, even if there are still various misunderstandings and these guys have various strange ideas, he is still there.

He checks the progress every few days, so there won't be any problems!

At this moment, there was a gentle knock on the door of the palace where they were.

Tuk-tuk-tuk.

Very strange.

There was no rhythm in the three knocks, and the strength varied, as if they were being knocked by three different people using the same body.

The first sound is casual, the second sound is passionate, and the third sound is calm.

"Who is it!" Craftsman Ye Mai's hair stood on end in anger. "We've already said that we've obtained enough materials. From now on, until the upgrade battle officially begins, please don't bother us anymore!"

Then, the voices of Aedri Faenya, Hanali Seranil, and Sehanne Moonbow—the trinity of Corellon's Queens—sounded simultaneously outside the door.

"—It's me, Angris."

Corellon shuddered involuntarily, and the three elves froze there as if they had been electrocuted.

The triune goddess walked directly across the palace. The heavy gate was only decorative to the powerful gods.

Angris remained expressionless, ignoring the three craftsmen. She spoke with unusual respect, "Your Majesty, your true form left Arvandor quietly, and your avatars all kept their mouths shut. Arvandor was thrown into chaos because of this."

"If the Goddess of Fate hadn't mentioned by chance that she was coming to Joseph's Garden to watch a gambling fight between the elves and the Goddess of the Magic Net, we would still be in the dark."

Corellon coughed lightly, his eyes rolling around: "I just had a sudden thought and wanted to go out... for a tour."

"We are very worried about you." Angris' voice was very calm. "Last time, when you left Arvandor without permission using your original body, you were ambushed by Mara and the orcs and nearly died outside."

Hearing this, Corellon actually mustered up some courage and said with unusual pride, "...I was ambushed, but I still won."

"That's because I successfully stopped Rose's plot to poison you. Otherwise, you would have been seriously injured and poisoned, and you would have died outside of Arvandor."

The Elf God King suddenly fell speechless.

Even for him, that battle was one of the most dangerous ones and he was reluctant to recall it.

Angelis snorted, "...There are still twenty days until the Ascension Battle, right? Now, please return to Avandor temporarily to take charge of the situation, welcome the guests, and reassure everyone."

"...Alright, alright." Corellon sighed, "But a bet is also an agreement. I must be back in twenty days."

"Of course." Angelis replied.

This time he was caught after only a dozen days of running away. It was a bit unlucky.

Corellon sighed again and glared at them. "I have warned you. I would not treat you as prisoners and fools, so I would not leave an avatar watching you at a time like this."

"I repeat, this bet is of the utmost importance. No room for negligence. You can lose the bet, but you cannot make mistakes. This is not the place for you to indulge your temper. Do you understand?!"

"Yes!" The three craftsmen answered extremely loudly.

-----------------

"You have no confidence in the second round?" The goddess of fate, Tyche, arrived too late and was quite surprised when she heard about the current situation of Emilia and her group.

"That's natural," Mystril replied without looking back. "That's still good. If it were me competing with Corellon, I would have surrendered immediately—I know very little about craftsmen, and the end result would have been three consecutive defeats. It's good to still have some chance of winning now."

"Can't we use any tricks?" Tikha asked curiously.

Of the three good sisters, only Selune could be considered a good person. The other two usually just didn't do anything evil, so it was appropriate to say they were carefree.

"Corellon is stronger than I am." Mystril sighed. "Whatever I use, Corellon uses. In the end, isn't it all in vain?"

At this moment, Selune raised an eyebrow, glanced at the girl whose body was faintly emitting silver flames, and suddenly said, "Actually, there is one thing you may have overlooked—and Corellon has already done this, but you haven't done it yet?"

"Huh? Corellon doesn't have so many crooked things..."

Before Mistrel could finish her words, the demonic tide caused by the enchantment once again swept over Valhalla.

This is the power of Corellon's Chosen.

"...Oh, that's not right." Misriel's eyes flickered, and she nodded. "Indeed, I had already begun to consider it, but I didn't expect Emiya to be so powerful. I thought I could win without going this far, and I almost forgot about it."

She immediately sent a message to Sig and Fenwei who were still running outside: There is an urgent matter, come back quickly.

Then, she quietly walked behind Emiya: "Emiya, turn back."

Emiya, who was concentrating on casting a spell, turned her head in surprise.

In his pupils, a ball of silver fire was growing bigger and bigger.

Thirty-Nine Voters (Part 2)

“…What are you going to do?!”

A second ago, Emiya's mind was filled with only swirling runes. The next second, those runes were suddenly replaced by boiling silver fire.

Emiya took a step back almost subconsciously.

In fact, he rarely saw Silverfire - Silver had said that because using Silverfire was too instinctive for her, she had stopped using it directly a long time ago.

For Silver, Silverfire is her limbs.

And she never goes boxing with others.

What does Mystrel want to do by suddenly extending the Silver Fire towards me?

"I'll share some of my power with you." Misriel said as if it was a matter of course.

Then, before Emiya could react, the Demonic Web Goddess had already drilled into his body.

A ball of silver fire poured into his heart, and a ball of silver fire drilled into his eyebrows.

Then, his body couldn't help but tremble slightly.

Mystril's disguise was peeling away before him.

Matter is just the outer shell of this world.

Magic is the true connection between every existence in the world.

The walls and canvases disappeared into faint shadows in the dark world, and the roaring magic power was flowing unhindered through the magic net to every corner of the world.

Silver threads, like a crisscrossing water network, spread throughout Valhalla and even Asgard. This scene was completely captured by Emiya's eyes.

It’s not that Emiya has never seen this scene before. Almost all practitioners of arcane magic have “seen” the operation of the magic network.

And now, he no longer needed to feel the movement of the magic network - the magic network was reaching out to him.

Just like the scene where God and Adam came into contact, the magic net finally opened its doors completely to him.

He began to understand—the magic flowing through the magic network was not a chaotic and disordered stream. It could be read and understood.

Every wave of it carries the intention of its original owner, and every bit of it can be interpreted through the magic network.

The magic web is made up of strands of silk. Now, Emilia can finally see how these strands reflect every tremor of the world, how they weave countless ever-changing magic.

Mystrel brought him two gifts.

A ball of silver fire drilled into his brain, opening the door to magic for him. Another ball of silver fire drilled into his heart, flowing through his blood almost instantly, and forming an unbreakable protective net in his body.

He could hear the Weave and Mystril talking to him at the same time:

[First, the Demonic Web will now show some mercy to you. Which spells would you like to be free from harm from now on?]

His brain trembled slightly, and the magic network already knew the answer.

A force field was woven, and magic missiles were no longer effective against him.

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