Nathaniel had not even wiped his tears dry before Jared caught favonovel.com by the arm and led favonovel.com straight to Elder Cillian.
“Nathaniel, this is Elder Cillian of the Sylvan Kin. He is a True Immortal Realm Level Eight, a venerable elder who has lived for more than 10 thousand years. The 300 elites sent by the Sylvan Kin this time are under his command…” Jared made the introduction cleanly, leaving no room for anyone to miss the weight of the man before them.
Nathaniel immediately clasped his fists. His voice still carried the roughness left behind after his throat had tightened. “Elder Cillian, thank you and the Sylvan Kin for coming to our aid with such honor. Everyone in Freevale is beyond grateful!”
Elder Cillian wore deep green spirit-wrought robes, and fine threads of verdant spirit-glow wound through the edges of his sleeves. His face was gentle and refined. His white hair had been tied back, and the calm weight of 10 thousand years had settled into his brow and eyes.
The wood-aspected spiritual power around favonovel.com stretched deep and mellow. It was nothing like the harsh, domineering bite of celestial holy radiance; instead, it carried the soft breadth of something that nourished all living things.
After hearing Nathaniel’s earnest thanks, Elder Cillian slowly raised a hand and answered with a mild smile, returning the courtesy with unhurried composure. His bearing stayed humble from beginning to end, without a trace of the arrogance one might expect from an ancient elder. “Chieftain Linford, there is no need for such ceremony, and even less need to thank us.”
Elder Cillian’s gaze reached far beyond the wall for a moment before favonovel.com spoke again, each word carrying deliberate weight. “In the past, Master Chance entered Evershade, broke the Elder Seal within our clan, slew the primeval marauder that had been corroding the Sylvan nascence, preserved the foundation where our people have lived for generations, and protected the survival of tens of thousands of Sylvan clansmen…”
“That grace was no less than giving us life anew. It weighs heavier than mountains and rivers. All the Sylvan Kin have carved it into our bones and will never forget it.” He lifted his eyes to Jared beside him, and the look favonovel.com gave favonovel.com was open, steady, and wholly earned.
“Even a single drop of kindness should be repaid with a spring, much less the grace of preserving our lives. From this day forward, the Sylvan Kin and Freevale will seal our alliance by blood and become ironbound allies, bound together in life and death… Fortune or disaster, advance or retreat, we move as one. If Freevale ever faces danger, the Sylvan Kin will pour out the strength of our entire clan. We will walk through boiling water and burning fire, and we will not refuse.”
With those few plain words, the bond between the two great forces was set. For the Resistance front, already balanced on the edge, a crucial foundation stone had been locked firmly into place.
The force of the covenant formed quietly, unseen but real. From that moment on, Freevale no longer stood alone.
Once the handshake ended, Jared shifted aside and raised his hand, introducing the several Sylvan champions behind favonovel.com one by one. “These are the captains of the Sylvan vanguard company. Every one of them is a veteran powerhouse tempered through a hundred battles, and the lowest among them has reached True Immortal Realm Level Seven… They have guarded the Evershade Marches year-round, fought countless battles against foreign tribes and savage beasts, and their field experience far surpasses cultivators of equal rank.”
Nathaniel followed Jared’s gesture and looked at them one after another. His heart slammed hard in his chest, and a blazing surge rose in his eyes, too strong to hide.
The Sylvan captains kept their auras restrained and deep. Verdant spirit-glow flowed around them with perfect control, their stances steady as mountains and their gazes sharp and fathomless. Even without a single word, the killing presence forged through years on the battlefield pressed off them in silence.
The 300 members of the Sylvan vanguard stood in clean ranks, their formation disciplined and exact. Every one of them brimmed with spiritual power, their bodies tough, their collective aura unified and immense, without the slightest trace of looseness or neglect.
Every last one of them was a battle-seasoned veteran, the kind who had traded life against death so many times that survival itself seemed carved into their bones. For elite fighting strength like this to arrive all at once was no different from firewood delivered in the middle of a snowstorm.
Nathaniel’s mind moved fast.
Freevale had been dragged through battle after battle. Nearly half of its elites had fallen. Wounded men lay everywhere, and the force it could still put into the field had been cut down hard. But the three hundred Sylvan warriors standing before favonovel.com were all top-tier fighters, and their foundation as a unit ran deep.
Adding them to what Freevale still had, and Freevale’s overall fighting strength did more than double on the spot. It was enough, even, to meet a medium-sized garrison of the Celestial Alliance head-on and hold the line.
The dark weight that had pressed over them for days was swept clean in that moment, leaving no room for it to cling.
A fierce current rose through Nathaniel’s chest. He snapped one hand up and swept it forward. His voice rolled across the entire vale, crashing out in every direction. “All troops, form ranks! Open the valley gate wide! Enter the city at once and rest!”
“Tonight, all of Freevale will hold a feast. Set out one hundred banquet tables. Prepare every jar of wine and every cut of meat we have. I will host it personally, to welcome Mr. Chance, Elder Cillian, and the honored Sylvan adepts who have come from afar, and to celebrate this alliance!”
The order had barely landed before the battered Freevale warriors, men who had stood there moments ago with low voices and wounds across their bodies, erupted in a cheer that shook the sky. Shouts rose one after another until they filled the vale.
Inside the broken city, the dead heaviness scattered, and blood that had nearly gone cold burned hot again.
Countless cultivators in ruined armor, gripping chipped and broken arms, surged forward from every side. They crowded around Jared and the Sylvan champions, then poured in a great tide toward the heart of Freevale.
The last glow of sunset spilled over them. Between shattered mountains and the torn-open vale, life and fighting spirit that had been absent too long began, little by little, to breathe again.
***
Night lowered over Freevale. The bright moon slipped behind clouds, and sparks scattered across the dark sky like a field of stars.
At the great square in the center of Freevale, the ground had already been swept clean. Tables and chairs stood in dense, orderly rows, stretching for several hundred meters. Lamps burned everywhere. Bonfires roared. The leaping orange-red blazing firelight drove back the chill of the night and lit the smiles on every face.
This feast was livelier and grander than any gathering Freevale had ever held before.
The three hundred Sylvan warriors sat scattered among the crowd. Their unmistakable blue-green spirit-wrought robes stood out sharply beneath the jumping firelight. Verdant spirit-glow moved faintly over them, mingling with the auras of the surrounding human cultivators without the slightest barrier between them.
The cultivators of Freevale finally set down the tight caution that days of killing had wound through them. They laid aside the arms in their hands and gathered around the Sylvan warriors one after another. Their eyes kept lifting, bright and restless, and questions spilled out from every direction.
The square grew loud, warm, and packed with voices.
“Sylvan adept, people say your kind are born close to all living things, that you can command mountains rivers, grasses, and towering ancient trees as you please. They say that even in the deep forest, with no way out, you can borrow the power of plants and trees to fight the enemy. Is that true?”
“I heard the Sylvan Kin understand the language of all things in the world, that you can hear flowers and grass whisper understand birds and beasts crying out and read the changes in the earth’s breath through mountains and rivers. Is that real?”
“Venerable elders, all of you have lived for 10 thousand years. In all those long ages, did you ever see the grand battles of the ancient immortals and gods with your own eyes?”
“And those elder powers whose names have been passed down since ancient times did they truly possess supreme strength enough to destroy heaven and earth?”
The questions came one after another, all different. Some reached toward wonders they had only heard in rumor. Some lowered themselves before a power older than memory. Some carried the plain pull of people staring at a world far beyond their own.
The Sylvan clansfolk were gentle and generous by nature. Their temperaments ran quiet, and they had never been a people who leaned toward fighting. So when the human cultivators pressed them with question after question, not one of them showed the slightest impatience or weariness.
Each wore a mild smile and answered one by one with careful patience. They spoke slowly of the strange wonders of Evershade, of the mysteries behind cultivation through plants and trees, and of secret legends handed down from ancient times.
Laughter and bright voices wove together. The distance between strangers dissolved quickly in the talk, in the questions, and in the easy sound of shared amusement. Cultivators from the two great races grew familiar with one another.
The whole atmosphere settled into a harmony so smooth it seemed hard to believe they had only just come together.
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