A soft breeze whispered through the room. Leaves scattered across the office floor—and without a sound, a woman appeared.
She stood tall and graceful, her long green hair cascading like vines, eyes glowing with ancient emerald light. Her garments were woven from living leaves, shifting with her every movement. The natural aura surrounding her was calm… but spoke of something older than time itself.
Elric's gaze sharpened the moment he saw her. He stepped forward with firm steps.
"Elven Dryad… you've finally come," he said, voice clipped with urgency. "Are your archers ready?"
The Dryad tilted her head slightly, unreadable. Then she gave a slow, deliberate nod.
Elric exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening just slightly. A small smile flickered at the corner of his lips—brief, but genuine.
Then her gaze shifted to Ishara. Her tone darkened, quiet and foreboding."Ishara… this isn't just a war anymore. It's chaos. The monsters are joining forces with the demons."
