The Elven Cultivator

The war in the Silver Moon Forest was a battle that all eyes were on.

From the moment Kresol Dragon City’s grand army began to march, countless eyes were fixed upon the once-inconspicuous forest.

Numerous powers used every means at their disposal to observe this great war, a war that would decide the future of the Eldron Plain.

At first, no one favored the Silver Moon Race.

The Silver Moon Race had produced Anton, a man capable of grievously wounding a Radiant Ash Dragon, and they possessed a bizarre array that not even Giant Dragons could breach.

But they were facing Kresol Dragon City, the ruler of the Eldron Plain for millennia.

A behemoth of immense military might, one that had slaughtered countless rebel factions and forged its terrifying reputation in blood and fire.

No matter how strong the Silver Moon Race was, they were, in the end, just an Elf Race with a population of less than ten thousand. How could they possibly contend with such a behemoth?

In the eyes of most powers, the wisest move for the Silver Moon Race was to hunker down behind that cyan curtain of light, use their array to fend off Dragon City’s assault, and simply hold out for as long as possible.

As for taking the initiative to attack?

How was that any different from suicide?

But what happened next defied everyone’s expectations.

Not only did the Silver Moon Race take the initiative, but they also displayed a formidable combat prowess that far surpassed anyone’s predictions.

They successively routed Dragon City’s Vassal Army and Golem Legion, and even managed to suppress the renowned Radiant Flame Legion.

All the observing powers fell silent as they watched the Silver Moon Race successfully repel Kresol Dragon City’s assault and drag the war into a stalemate.

It was only then that they suddenly realized that, while they had been oblivious, the Silver Moon Race had quietly grown into a power strong enough to rival Kresol Dragon City.

The slaughter on the battlefield raged on.

From noon to late afternoon, from late afternoon to evening, and then into the deepening twilight of dusk.

As the last crimson-gold rays of the setting sun vanished below the horizon, the somber call of a horn finally sounded from the rear of the Dragon City army.

It was the signal to retreat.

The Radiant Flame Legion began its slow retreat, like an ebbing tide, leaving behind a field littered with corpses and shattered banners on the plain outside the forest.

The Silver Moon Race did not give chase.

The pale cyan curtain of light still hung silently over the forest, like a timeless sky.

The battlefield gradually fell silent, with only the smoke of battle left drifting in the air.

Vultures descended from the heavens, beginning to peck among the corpses.

The battle was over, but its repercussions were already beginning to ripple violently across the Eldron Plain.

The many powers that had been watching swiftly spread the results of the battle across the Eldron Plain, where the news landed like a boulder dropped into a calm lake, sending massive waves across its surface.

Kresol Dragon City had marched out in full force, its grand army descending upon its enemy, only to be stopped at the outskirts of the Silver Moon Forest.

The Vassal Legion suffered heavy casualties, the Golem Legion was nearly wiped out, and even the Radiant Flame Legion—considered the strongest legion on the Eldron Plain—had taken a significant blow at the hands of those Elves.

Strictly speaking, no true victor had emerged. Dragon City still commanded a formidable army, and the Silver Moon Race had never pursued them beyond the safety of their array.

But it was clear to any shrewd observer that Kresol Dragon City had lost the initial engagement.

They were the ones who had initiated the war, they were the ones who had suffered the heavier casualties, and they were the ones who had been the first to retreat.

Meanwhile, the Silver Moon Race had defended their home, forcing the behemoth that had ruled the plain for millennia to return in utter defeat.

As this news was confirmed and reconfirmed, a long silence fell over the entire Eldron Plain.

It was followed by an earth-shattering uproar.

Countless people were pondering the same question:

How on earth had the Silver Moon Race become so powerful in just a few short decades?

Countless powers began to frantically probe for the secrets of the Silver Moon Race.

However, the Silver Moon Forest was protected by the Great Derivation Cyan Profound Array, making it as impenetrable as an iron fortress; not even a fly could get in. Any attempt at espionage was a complete farce.

At best, outsiders could try to glean information from the merchant guilds that had previously traded with the Silver Moon Race.

Or they could attempt to subtly question Gray Rock Castle, which had cooperated with the Silver Moon Race in the past.

But as for their core secrets, outsiders were completely unable to uncover a single shred of information.

The only thing the outside world knew for certain was that all of the Silver Moon Race’s transformations seemed to revolve around an Elf named Anton.

...

「Silver Moon Forest.」

「The day after the first engagement.」

Kresol Dragon City did not press the attack. Instead, they made camp about ten kilometers from the Silver Moon Forest, seemingly to lick their wounds and gather their strength.

Despite the lull in the fighting, the atmosphere within the Silver Moon Forest had not relaxed in the slightest. It remained exceptionally tense.

Every Elf knew the war was far from over. The next attack could come at any moment.

This was merely the calm before the storm.

Yet beneath the tension, an undercurrent of irrepressible excitement and pride was stirring.

After all, they had just driven back Kresol Dragon City.

Not only had they defended the forest, but they had also dealt the enemy a heavy blow.

The moment they realized they truly possessed the strength to face Dragon City head-on, a century of humiliation and hatred—a feeling so old it had nearly turned to numbness—ignited. It became scalding blood that surged and churned through their very veins.

’So, we’ve become this strong.’

’We can finally protect our homes, our families, and the forest that raised us.’

This was a heartfelt pride, a deep-seated confidence, entirely different from any empty slogan.