The Elf Palace felt different now. Not just repaired, but safe.
The air above the city no longer carried tension or the faint tremor of distant corrupted power. Crystal lamps glowed steadily along the streets. Patrols moved at a relaxed pace instead of rigid formation.
The towering structures of white stone and light stood unmarred, no longer bracing against an unseen threat.
For the first time in days, the Elf citizens walked openly through the streets without constantly looking at the sky.
Yet peace brought its own burden.
King Gulben had little time to rest.
The battle against Zerathul had unfolded directly above the Elf Palace, tearing the sky apart in full view of the world.
While every land had witnessed the catastrophe, this city had stood closest to its heart.
As the days passed, envoys arrived from nearly every race and kingdom—The Elves Forests came, then the Dwarven representatives from the mountain halls, and emissaries from lesser-known human kingdoms.
