Northwestern border of the Forest of Freyst.
The elf Livim, over three hundred years old and in the prime of his life, was concealed among the branches of a massive tree.
A thin blade of grass hung from the corner of his mouth. Its faint bitterness stimulated his tongue, keeping his mind sharp and alert at all times.
Perched high among the treetops, he gazed toward the northwest. A long, narrow rift cleaved the land in two, separating east from west.
That was the boundary between the Human Empire and the Forest of Freyst—known as the Kaesmon Great Rift, also called the Abyssal Great Rift.
Not far to the west of the rift lay Beast Abyss Pass, on the northeastern frontier of the Human Empire, one of the three main battlefields in the winter war between humans and beastfolk.
Earlier, news had arrived from the Human Empire that the fire-mage formations at Beast Abyss Pass had dealt a crushing defeat to the beastfolk army, causing some beastfolk tribes to break and flee.
Some of those beastfolk deserters had entered the Forest of Freyst, and the humans hoped the elves would deal with them appropriately.
This was standard procedure every winter.
Livim released an Eagle Eye spell toward the distance, scanning for any trace of beastfolk.
The humans and elves had long formed a mutual-defense alliance to jointly resist the southward invasions of the beastfolk.
This relationship dated back nearly a century, to when Emperor André the Great allied with the elves and dwarves, led a coalition army to drive the beastfolk northward, and founded the Human Empire.
"The beastfolk are just too savage," a young elf beside him complained. "They invade every winter. Why can't they just stay in their own lands?"
After confirming that Eagle Eye detected no beastfolk, Livim relaxed slightly. He glanced at the young elf on the neighboring branch and chuckled.
"You're just a fifty-year-old brat—what do you know?"
"Back when the beastfolk ruled the continent, all races lived in misery. It took a united effort to defeat them and force them into the barren, freezing Arctic icefields."
"Beastfolk are naturally promiscuous. Every year, vast numbers of new beastfolk are born, but the Arctic icefields don't have enough food to sustain them."
"When winter comes, countless beastfolk starve to death."
"So instead of starving on the icefields, they'd rather cause trouble for the humans."
"And if they ever get the chance to crush the human border armies, they certainly wouldn't mind marching straight back into the heart of the continent."
The young elf curled his lip in disdain.
"I don't get it. The far north may lack food, but it's rich in rare minerals. If they just mined properly and traded with the humans for grain, wouldn't they be able to feed everyone?"
"That's why I say you're still young."
Livim casually cast Eagle Eye again and continued calmly,
"If the beastfolk really did what you said, they'd become human vassals within ten years, with no chance of ever rising again."
"From the time Emperor André the Great led the human resistance and founded the empire until now—nearly a hundred years—I've witnessed the reigns of three human emperors."
"Human power is now at its peak, already showing hints of the dominance the beastfolk once had when they ruled the continent."
"If the beastfolk hadn't insisted on launching winter wars every year to wear down human war reserves, the Human Empire might already have accumulated enough strength to wipe them out entirely."
The young elf was speechless. His worldview felt shaken. After a long pause, he asked,
"If that's true, then why are we still helping the Human Empire hunt down beastfolk deserters? If humans are the strongest now, why don't we just ally with the beastfolk and fight the humans instead?"
Livim rolled his eyes.
"Young people… if only things were that simple."
He was about to continue when Eagle Eye suddenly detected enemies in the distance.
At the same time, the sounds of combat and furious shouts erupted from the forest ahead.
Dozens of beastfolk warriors were charging wildly through the trees, clashing head-on with elven fighters.
Livim and the elven archers and mages quickly took position.
In an instant, spells and arrows rained down on the beastfolk squad.
The elven fighters, who had been steadily retreating, regained the upper hand and swiftly cut down several beastfolk.
These beastfolk had already endured battlefield slaughter and a long, exhausting escape. After an initial burst of strength, they immediately collapsed into fatigue—limp, powerless, and spent.
The outcome was decided.
Livim, seasoned by countless battles, knew this was no time to relax. His eyes remained locked on the fighting in the forest ahead as he continued to loose arrows to support his comrades.
But the young elf beside him had already let his guard down.
In his view, the situation was stable. The beastfolk were in full retreat; what followed would be an easy cleanup.
And in the moment his vigilance faltered—disaster struck.
A black shadow leapt down from the canopy above, claws flashing as a massive paw slammed into the young elf's back.
"Urgh—!"
The young elf spat blood as he was sent flying, crashing into a tree trunk and slumping down.
A true battlefield veteran, Livim reacted instantly. He sprang sideways onto another massive tree, narrowly dodging the shadow's follow-up attack.
At the same time, he shouted,
"Enemy ambush! Watch your surroundings and above—werewolves are lurking!"
The shadow was tall and powerfully built, nearly twice the size of an elf. A massive, ferocious wolf's head loomed atop its shoulders.
The werewolf launched several attacks, all deftly avoided by Livim. Each time he created distance, Livim spun and fired an arrow in response.
Footwork—footwork—turn—shoot!
The werewolf shattered an incoming arrow with its claws. Seeing the elves regaining control of the situation, it let out an enraged howl.
"Don't linger—break through!"
Minutes later, several battered figures vanished into the forest. The elves halted, choosing not to pursue.
"There are still our people further back. Send a squad to warn them—this group included werewolves skilled in stealth and ambush. The rest, regroup and rest."
The leading elf issued orders, and the group moved into recovery in an orderly fashion.
Livim immediately dropped to the ground to check on the young elf.
Just as he reached out to help, he saw the young elf coughing and standing up on his own.
"You're fine?" Livim exclaimed in surprise. "A werewolf ambushed you from behind, and you're not badly hurt?"
"Uh…" The young elf shook his head, one hand pressed to his chest as he looked down. "I think… it was this plant called Scalevine that protected me…"
"The moment the attack came, it sensed the danger before I did and immediately spread its leaves to shield my back."
"Otherwise, that blow would've left me seriously injured at the very least…"
Still shaken, the young elf silently etched this lesson into his mind, feeling deep gratitude toward the plant called Scalevine.
He looked down at the Scalevine coiled around his wrist and felt an unexpected sense of closeness.
"This thing's really that amazing?" Livim murmured in astonishment, lowering his gaze to the Scalevine wrapped around his own wrist.