Chapter 65: Celebi Forest City
In the heart of an endless enchanted in the Fae Region's forests stands Celebi Forest City, a breathtaking marvel born from the harmony of nature and ancient elven magic. Here, the trees do not merely grow—they are sculpted by spellcraft and song, forming elegant homes, spiraling towers, and bridges of woven branches that sway gently with the wind yet never break.
The city is alive with vibrant essence. Flowers bloom in response to footsteps, leaves shimmer with stored mana, and crystal-clear streams carry whispers of arcane energy. Luminous moss lights the paths at night, and great vines curl like serpents, bearing fruits that hum with healing power. The air itself feels thick with magic, pulsing like a heartbeat in time with the land.
At its core rises a colossal tree the size of a mountain, reaching into the heavens, its bark etched with glowing runes and its branches cradling entire districts. Near its upper levels rests a stunning castle of living wood and glass, a palace of elegance and power where the Fanged Elf Royal Family and Grand Nobles reside.
Above even this, at the peak where wind meets cloud, lies a sacred space veiled in enchantments—home to the Matriarch and Grand Elders, who dwell in seclusion, watching the world below in silence.
Guards known for their fluid grace and lethal precision patrol the city—warriors bonded to the forest, clad in armor grown from bark and bone, their weapons alive with nature's fury. The people, too, are steeped in magic. Enchanters, beast whisperers, and herbalists live in harmony, their lives shaped by an ancient rhythm that outsiders can feel but never understand.
In the middle reaches of Celebi Forest City, nestled within the winding corridors of a massive tree whose girth rivaled mountains, stood the Nature Healing Pavilion—a sacred place where life thrived in its purest form. Built into the living bark and suffused with an energy older than time, it was here that nature's raw vitality did what no conventional treatment could.
Outside a particular chamber, the air was thick with tension and exhaustion. Shayleaf sat slumped on a woven vine bench, her once-glowing eyes dimmed by six days of near-sleepless vigil. Beside her, Zoro leaned silently against the wall with arms crossed, while Ramiro paced impatiently. Two other Fanged Elves that were familiar faces from Whispering Haven offered quiet support, their presence more emotional than practical.
Behind the transparent bark-glass window, Elton floated in a pool of softly glowing green-and-brown liquid. The liquid pulsed with healing essence, absorbing into his broken body. The magic holding him suspended kept him stable, but motionless. For six long days, he had not stirred.
"Damn it, Elton…" Ramiro muttered under his breath. "You'd better wake up. We didn't survive and make it all of this way just for you to end up in this condition."
Zoro grunted in agreement but said nothing. Shayleaf didn't even blink. Her eyes remained locked on the chamber, lips moving in silent prayer.
Six days ago, after Seraphiel and Shayleaf had retrieved Elton in a flying arcane vehicle, he'd lost consciousness. Shayleaf had cried then, shaken by his condition. Seraphiel had reassured her, confident in her words but hiding doubt behind her calm expression. The wounds and the energy backlash had been worse than expected.
Elton's admittance to the Healing Pavilion had not been smooth. Aeloria, invoking her authority as both a Grand Noble and a Golden Lord, had pushed through the paperwork and politics. Even then, whispers and objections rose quickly.
The name "Laughing Blue Blade Reaper" had reached the Upper Lands, distorted and cloaked in rumor. Many feared what he represented. He was a human with unknown intentions in a sketchy background as far as they were concerned. There were too many uncertainties surrounded him. Factions resisted, but Aeloria, The current Dutchess of the Nightbloom family as well as Shayleaf, and even Shirleaf who are both members of the Royal family all stepped in and couldn't be denied for something that isnt of great importance overall.
Together, they forced the decision through And so Elton remained in the Pavilion.
Far above, in the royal spire nestled among the clouds, the Grand Council Chamber of the Fanged Elf Royal Castle echoed with debate. A grand circular room carved from the inner bark and reinforced with living crystal, it held the elite of Celebi Forest City.
The Fanged Elf King sat atop a throne grown from the root of the Heartwood Tree itself. Beside him sat his wife, the Granddaughter of the reclusive Matriarch. Her eyes glowed faintly, marking her Noble bloodline. The room was filled with high nobles, Grand nobles, minor lords, and three envoys from the other Elven clans.
Aeloria, regal in dark blues and silver embroidered robes made of leaves, stood confidently by a projection map of the Whispering Expanse. She had just finished recounting events: the battles, the movements of various Factions and Organizations, and learning of the growing instability of dimensional gates.
The King leaned forward. "And what of the humans?"
"2 of them have healed completely. As for the one that came 6 days ago… Well, he is stable now though it seems he has yet to awaken. But more importantly, I believe that he may prove useful," Aeloria said simply.
There were scoffs and narrowed eyes. Some whispered behind hands. Others stared openly.
The King gave a slow nod. "Continue."
After a pause, Aeloria took a breath, then stepped into dangerous territory.
"Your Majesty. Royals, Grand Nobles, and Nobles of all tiers… there is something important I wish to propose. I ask only that you consider it seriously."
Murmurs buzzed, but she raised a hand, silencing the room.
"Perhaps… we can achieve what our ancestors dreamed of. Not just as Fanged Elves… but for all Elves. This suffocating world, this pocket dimension that cages us—there may be a way out."
The room fell still.
Shock, Fear, Hope, and Denial were the range of emotions that passed across the many faces was overwhelming. Even the envoys from the other Elf clans who had generally remained passive until now visibly reacted.
Aeloria stood unmoving.
The silence after Duchess Aeloria Nightbloom's proclamation was so thick it could be carved into stone. The grand hall of the Fanged Elf Royal Assembly, shrouded in silver leaves and violet crystal lanterns, seemed to hold its breath.
A subtle twitch crossed the face of one High Noble before he leaned forward with quiet authority. "Hmm… Duchess Nightbloom, to bring up such a claim… To leave this world? Where does it come from?" The question came from none other than Grand Justiciar Royalin-Oak, a man whose presence carried the weight of lineage and law. The grandfather of Luno-Oak and Dino-Oak, and the adoptive father of Joe-Pine, his words carried the sharpness of a blade.
All eyes turned to Aeloria.
She looked directly at Royalin-Oak and answered without hesitation. "To be honest, it comes from those human boys that some of you seem to be so wary of."
The room detonated in a roar of disbelief.
"Wait, what?! Are you talking about those children that you've recently brought in?"
"Children? S-she's relying on children?"
"The bigger problem is that they are HUMAN children!! Humans just like those damned demons are never to be trusted!!"
"Now wait. You can't just say that… Our Fanged Elf clan has had good dealings with certain humans in the past."
"Interesting… how interesting. I wonder what our brilliant Duchess Nightbloom from one of the Three Grand Noble Families has up her sleeve to even begin to suggest this."
Voices crashed against each other, a sea of rejection, skepticism, and speculative calculation. Curiosity clung to the edge of their indignation like moss to a rock. Why would a woman of Aeloria's caliber say such a thing?
A single cough cut through the madness with such pressure that even the walls seemed to tense. The Elf King, seated atop a throne carved from Heartwood and glowing amethyst, raised his hand. His aura at Early Mortal Shedding Realm whispered through the air and silenced the chamber.
With a glance that gave nothing away, he nodded to Aeloria. "Continue."
She bowed slightly and said, "As you all know, we Elves whether Fanged, Woodskinned, Burning Tree, or of the Original Clan; were forced into this place by our ancestors nearly a thousand years ago. They sought refuge from a calamity that devastated our lands. For over six centuries, our clans have searched for a way out. Though we have failed… we have not given up."
Aeloria paused, her eyes sweeping over the crowd.
"We believe the Whispering Expanse True World might be a way out. However, let us not forget the tragedy from 350 years ago. The grand alliances that gathered throughout the Whispering Expanse in hopes of escaping… only to face betrayal and slaughter. And let us not forget that many of those betrayals came from within, aided by certain Demon Clans."
Her words dredged up pain etched into the bones of every Elf present. Fatigue, rage, and helplessness settled like fog.
A sigh broke the tension. From the left dais, Duke Stormvine, an elder from another of the Three Grand Noble Families spoke. His aura, though at the False Mortal Shedding Realm, pulsed with bitter resilience. He had failed to break through fully, yet he still possessed might rivaling the early Mortal Shedding cultivators.
"I personally do not believe that whatever you're going to say about those humans will possibly bring any sort of change to our current situation," Stormvine said with a cold gaze. "I say we conclude these time-wasting conversations. Duke Silverthorn, even you can't sit back and justify any reasoning behind Duchess Nightbloom's concerning ideas."
A wizened figure adjusted the monocle on his left eye. Duke Silverthorn, another False Mortal Shedding elder, chuckled faintly. "Ah, Duchess Nightbloom, he's right in his impatience… but I'd still like to hear what you were attempting to propose—"
"There is nothing more to hear!" Stormvine interrupted, rising slightly from his seat. "Especially when it concerns a human who was being hunted for reaping and slaughtering! Even if he aided the Fanged Elves, our priorities must lie with the Dimensional Gate and the surging powers in every Upper Land region—especially the demons. Your Majesty, I believe we should put these unnecessary matters to rest."
The sentiment took root swiftly. More than half the nobles nodded or murmured in agreement. Stormvine's influence spread like creeping vines through the hall.
The Elf King spoke again, voice firm. "Duchess Nightbloom. What is it that makes you claim that those humans can be of any use to us?"
Aeloria, poised and unwavering, met the King's gaze. "Because those humans are not born of this pocket world. They pierced through a dimensional rift to enter this place and from the insights we've gathered… they are likely from at least a Two-Star Sect."
The room fell utterly still.
The breath of the realm seemed to pause, its heartbeat suspended.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
All that remained was silence.