In the fragment world of the World Tree.
A faint radiance fell within the desolate hall.
A cold chill wafted in the air.
Facing Shiayar's gaze, filled with sorrow, longing, and a slight reluctance.
An unprecedented ominous premonition rose in Hathaway's heart in an instant.
But soon, she forcibly calmed the sea of her mind.
After the upheaval in the Council earlier, she was no longer the Hathaway she used to be.
Or rather, as the oldest current Council Elder, and the only pure blood Golden Elf on the Lost Island, she already possessed an extremely strong mind.
If not, Hathaway would not have been able to continue her research on the Astral Realm to such an extent, alone in those long, dark centuries, with all her predecessors and supporters passing one by one, and with her kin gradually forgetting history, even treating her with coldness and opposition.
Simply because of the expectations her predecessors held for her, and the heavy burden of the Elf Clan's future...
