Game of the World Tree

Hearing Samir's words, the people of the Flame Clan hesitated for a moment.

A trembling old elf reluctantly touched the bag in his hand, lifted a corner, and revealed a thick and ancient book engraved with gorgeous patterns.

His voice was bitter.

"This... These are all paper texts that we brought out of the Elven Forest back then, and they are the inheritance of the elven race for thousands of years.

“If we leave it behind, then the elven race..."

Samir looked at him in a complicated way and sighed.

"The mother god has returned, civilization can continue, but if the elves are dead, there will be nothing."

Philosir touched the thick genealogy of the Flame Clan he carried, and a cloudy tear flashed in the corner of his eyes.

"Alas..."

He sighed, and under the unbelievable gazes of the old elves, she ruthlessly threw the thick genealogy that had been passed down by the Flame Clan for thousands of years and recorded the countless history and glory of the tribe on the ground...

"The clan ... Patriarch!”

Several old elves were shocked.

Philosir glanced at them and released the aura on his body...

For a moment, all the old elves quieted down and looked at her with pleading faces.

Philosir avoided their gaze, her voice was as cold as iron, and it carried an irrefutable momentum.

"History is written by civilization, and the carrier of silver civilization is the elves themselves.

“After all, if we can't even protect ourselves, these texts... Don't!

"Look at the children of the clan! We still have a future, we still have hope! We have lived a life of displacement all our lives, and we can't let them live our miserable life anymore!”

After that, she ordered loudly in an old voice,

"Everyone, throw down the weights and dry food, carry only weapons, and protect the children to break through at full speed!"

Seeing that the respected old patriarchs were like this, the elves hesitated, and then they all threw the luggage in their hands on the ground.

For a while, there were some weeping in the crowd.

The old elves had red eyes, drew their weapons, glanced sadly at the luggage on the ground, and roared.

“Raarr—!”

Countless numbers of magical brilliance bloomed from their bodies.

These old elves who have survived to the present, although they are already very old, they are also the most powerful warriors of the elven race!

Looking at the clansmen who turned grief into strength, Fei Luoxier felt a little trance for a while.

She seems to have returned to the days when she led the elven legion and desperately broke through from the elven forest under the blocking of the combined army of humans, orcs and half-dragons...

Taking a deep breath, she raised her thousand-year-old Flame Staff!

"Partners, let's go! Let's go home!”

A dazzling magical brilliance was released from the staff, and the plants in front of them suddenly gave way to a path on its own.

Three-ring magic, [Jungle Command].

More than two hundred elves began to change formations.

All the elderly elves came to the outermost periphery, spearheaded by elven warriors and elven rangers, backed by mages, druids, and elven archers.

The elves in their prime carried the children on their backs and were protected in the middle of the group.

"Rush!"

They shouted and charged along the path opened by the patriarch.

And after they left, the plants closed again, obscuring the original path.

"Not good! Those elves want to avoid us!”

The expression of the half-orc scout who had been staring in the distance changed, and he quickly blew the horn again.

The team of orcs hidden in the Elven Forest also began to act under the guidance of the horn.

"Those scouts are delivering messages, kill them!"

Hearing the scout's horn, Samir changed his expression and shouted at the elven hunters in the ranks.

Several elven hunters hesitated, and they habitually aimed at the orc’s limbs.

At this time, an elderly elf grabbed the curved bow, aimed at the half-orc scout and shot over...

The arrow arrived in an instant, piercing the throat of the half-orc with pinpoint accuracy.

Then, the old elf looked at the hunters and said with red eyes,

"Don’t be merciful! Think about how they've treated us over the years! Is your precise archery just for show?!

"Even if killing causes us to die and descend us to hell, we will kill a way for the Flame Clan!"

Listening to his words, a trace of shame flashed on the faces of several elf hunters.

But soon, their expressions became firm, and they all raised their bows and arrows.

However, the main team of the half-orcs finally intercepted the elves of the Flame Tribe under the guidance of the horn.

Nearly a hundred heavily armed half-orcs rushed out of the forest, and under the blessing of the priests' divine magic, their bodies flashed with the brilliance of divine power, blocking the elves' path.

At the same time, there were more orcs, coming from farther afield in the forest.

"Don't leave a single old elf, capture all the female and young elves alive!"

In the half-orc team, the priest who led the team let out a shout.

"Hmph!"

Samir let out a cold snort, and powerful magic continued to gather on his body.

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