“Spirit Mail!” Sirka shouted.0

By now their coordination was flawless.0

The high elves’ forest, once a scene of beauty and peace, was engulfed in flames. Within them, Suho and his shadow soldiers clashed with the high elves, while Sirka took control of the spirits that poured from their wounds.0

The spirits Sirka captured froze instantly, transforming into armor and weapons at her command. Every time she wielded this power, her confidence grew. Suho watched her from behind, feeling a surge of pride.0

Even as the spirits watched, they did not flee. Instead, they circled Sirka like vultures, waiting for their opportunity.0

This was not surprising in the least. She was a fresh young elf, and she had walked straight into their territory. Compared to the withering husks of the high elves they had consumed, she was a prize beyond measure.0

The arrival of invaders did not concern the spirits. As always, they trusted the Elvenwood tree to handle the threat.0

So it’s begun, Suho thought.0

The tree, finally sensing danger, woke, and the ground trembled beneath them. The roots twisted and coiled beneath the earth, thick vines tangling together as the Elvenwood began to shift.0

Slowly, the massive tree took on the shape of an elf. It seemed more accurate to call it a “wooden elf” rather than an “Elvenwood” now. It was a towering,...0