All had fallen silent, the howls and roars from the collision of two worlds had vanished, and the colors and sunlight of the mortal realm had dissolved in the ultimate annihilation. In the chaotic darkness that followed the Annihilation of All Things, the dead World Tree continued to grow silently.
New corpses sprouted from the old, and new ruins bred from the old ruins.
She had forgotten the Elves, forgotten herself, forgotten all beginnings and endings—breeding, spreading, and continually growing were the only obsessions that occupied Silantis after the end.
But Holoss arrived in front of this ever-growing corpse, and the spreading ghostly green fla in the darkness beca a barrier, preventing Silantis from further expansion.
Finally, the dead World Tree reacted.
Duncan saw unusual lights and shadows suddenly floating up from her remains—a hazy fog, within which indistinct limbs and shapes seed to hide. The fog’s edges continuously spread from the tree canopy, resembling tentacles or winding roots.
He was reminded of the hazy mists floating above the Pilgrimage Ark of the Four Gods Church.
But before he could think further, an even greater transformation occurred—the "river" comprised of countless tiny light spots, circling Silantis, suddenly collapsed. Countless tiny glimrs rged into the mist floating above the World Tree, and the next second, that seemingly weak and ethereal fog solidified violently and expanded outward!
The boundaries of the fog turned into sharp projectiles, striking with all their might towards the Spiritual Fire surrounding Holoss.
A low, unreal rumbling seed to echo in the darkness as Silantis’s impacts stirred ripples in the Spiritual Fire; yet more flas erged from the void, gradually dyeing the chaotic and pallid fog a ghostly green—still, Silantis kept on striking, even though every clash caused her fatal erosion, not stopping for a mont.
Duncan even felt a sense of shock.
This was the first ti he saw a being daring to rush towards the Spiritual Fire.
And the next second, during Silantis’s repeated impacts, he saw a vague form gradually taking shape in the mist hovering above the World Tree.
It was a glimr of light, barely discernible in outline, like a soul in the process of formation, not yet fully shaped.
But Duncan imdiately realized that it was Silantis.
"This is pointless," he couldn’t help saying to the glimr of light, "You can’t break through this barrier, and you will soon beco part of it."
Yet the glimr of light did not respond, only the continual impacts, and with each collision, the boundary of the mist began dissolving, the low rumble turning into a clear "bang," echoing repeatedly.
Duncan watched this scene with a taut expression, and after a long while, he slowly raised his hand.
Flas rose in the void and slowly flowed towards Silantis’s essence in the darkness.
"Release those Elves and those things you have devoured, let Light Breeze Harbor return to the real world," he said gravely, "while there is still a chance to save everything."
Finally, the obscure glimr responded; it flickered suddenly, and a sharp, youthful voice ca from the darkness: "They are not Elves!"
The light spots, wandering and converging around the remains of the World Tree, suddenly began to agitate violently, more light converging into a stream, rushing towards the mist above Silantis!
However, just as the mist was preparing for the next impact, the agitated light spots suddenly trembled violently again. Subsequently, many lights that had already rged into the mist abruptly experienced a "backflow," starting to detach from Silantis’s "attraction," the particles of light falling like scattered petals from the space around the World Tree, as if stars encircling a great tree.
The next second, one of those falling lights expanded and gradually took the form of a ghostly shadow—
It was an Elf, not particularly tall, with graying hair and wearing a deep blue academic robe, his face seemingly perpetually tired, yet his gaze calmly stood amidst the nurous scattered, floating spots of light, quietly confronting the massive, mountain-like World Tree in the darkness.
Ted Riel, the Truth Confidant of Light Breeze Harbor.
Duncan looked at the sudden appearance with so surprise: "I thought you had perished."
But Ted Riel just shrugged, "It’s just a nightmare—not nearly as bad as grading the assignnts and papers students rush on the last day of the holidays."
Perhaps due to the sudden departure of many Elves from her control, Silantis’s ntal entity seed to fall into a brief daze of confusion, but soon her voice erged again in the darkness: "You all co back... co back quickly, it’s dangerous outside! Co back... let’s wait for Saslouka to return ho, okay..."
On the edge of the Spiritual Fire, a large black goat suddenly stepped out from the flas, lifting its head and staring quietly at the pale and twisted World Tree: "I am here, little sapling."
Silantis suddenly froze, her ntal entity wavering in the mist, seemingly unable to determine if the black goat in the flas was indeed the creator from her mories. For a mont, she seed to waver, and the fog spreading from the edge of the canopy quietly drew back, yet the next second, a sharp wail and piercing noise once again swept across the darkness:
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