The War of Divine Fire was the most important battle in the history of the entire world, without exception.
In that war, a great empire fell, four gods descended to the mortal realm, and the global landscape was changed forever.
The human race was split into four; the Beast Race was thrust into a state of perpetual warfare; and the Demons were transformed into monsters prone to madness.
The change to the Elves seemed the smallest, except that every 100 years, a king descended from the heavens would be granted to them.
Furthermore, the arrival of the War of Divine Fire signaled the beginning of the Magic Age.
While there are currently no records explicitly stating who the first magic user was, there is a consensus within the magical community — magic is a gift from the gods.
Because of this, the Legendary Grand Archmage Moledi is also known as the “Messenger of God” or “God’s Representative in the Mortal Realm.”
However, the significance of the War of Divine Fire differs drastically across various nations.
For the Robert Empire, which inherited the orthodoxy of the Saint-Vien Empire, the War of Divine Fire was a disgrace.
Were it not for the sudden descent of the gods, the world would have been ruled by humans over 1,000 years ago.
But for the three races that were on the brink of extinction at the time, the War of Divine Fire was undoubtedly a form of salvation from the gods.
On the stage, the actors vividly portrayed the story from a millennium ago.
Because magic existed in this world, the stage effects were far more realistic than anything in Winnidith’s previous life.
Winnidith had originally come just to accompany Isabella.
But the actors’ performances were so superb and their emotions so rich that they hardly seemed like normal Elves.
Gradually, she began to immerse herself in this story filled with sorrow and resistance.
The play was about to reach its climax.
As the music grew increasingly hurried, Isabella’s expression became more serious, and her pink fists unknowingly tightened on her lap.
Clay figures symbolizing the empire’s iron cavalry had already stepped onto the map of the Natural Forest.
Countless villages were destroyed under their horses’ hooves, and innumerable Elves fell in battle.
By the end, in the vast Natural Forest, only hundreds of Elves remained, kneeling at the Elven holy land, the Nature Source, and wailing in despair.
The rhythm of the music reached its peak at that moment!
This was immediately followed by the climax of the entire play.
“Merciful Lord! All-knowing and all-powerful existence! If you are still listening, please grant us your power and save us, your lowly subjects!”
Dozens of actors wailed together.
The music vanished silently amidst their cries, and the entire theater was smothered in despair and oppression.
Isabella noticed that a few tears silently rolled down the faces of the Elves in the audience, who usually appeared indifferent and puppet-like.
This atmosphere did not last long, as the music soon swelled again.
It was no longer oppressive but had become sacred and stirring!
A miracle had occurred!
A seed fell into the Sacred Spring, then quickly cracked its shell, took root, and sprouted.
In the blink of an eye, it grew to be hundreds of meters high before the shocked gazes of the surviving Elves.
This was the scene of the Sacred Tree’s descent.
It shook its branches, and a gentle wind healed the wounded bodies of the Elves.
With every leaf that fell, an Elf was transformed, mastering unprecedented power.
But these few hundred Elves were clearly not enough to turn the tide.
So, the Sacred Tree began to accumulate power, its trunk shaking violently.
A fruit rapidly ripened and fell, transforming into the likeness of an Elf as it caught the wind.
Anaris, the First Elf King and a true child of a god, was born.
Historical records state that under the leadership of the First Elf King Anaris, the Elves reclaimed their territory.
They formed an alliance with the Beast Race and the Demons, who shared their plight, and attacked the empire’s territory, nearly wiping it out.
Eventually, after the God of Light and Radiant Sun descended and the predecessors Robert and Trenton saved the day, a treaty was signed with the humans, and Anaris led his people back to the Natural Forest.
However, Winnidith paid no attention to the rest of the play.
Even when the drama ended and the announcer took the stage, her thoughts were still stuck on the moment the Sacred Tree descended and Anaris was born.
‘I’ve seen this scene before!’
Winnidith’s heart hammered against her ribs.
In that palace deep within the Fountain of Memory, she had personally witnessed the birth of Anaris!
But what about the other protagonist she had seen?
What about that monstrous bird covered in spider eyes?
Why didn’t it appear in the story?
Also, when the descent happened, there were clearly two light spheres — one gold and one black.
Why was there only the Light Elf symbolizing the gold sphere here?
Where was the black one?
‘What exactly were those things I saw?!’
In an instant, Winnidith felt as though she had fallen into a trap — a trap built out of various coincidences specifically designed for her.
She wanted to cry out for help, but she realized that thin, scattered applause had already broken out around her.
the audience was cheering for the actors’ performance, and Isabella and Arns were among them.
Isabella didn’t actually think their performance was that great.
Compared to the top-tier imperial drama troupes she had seen, the Starlight Opera House was clearly lacking.
However, she hadn’t come to watch a play.
She wanted to see if she could find even a sliver of a clue about the Dark Elves from this ancient performance.
The result was obvious.
The First Elf King had not left such a loophole.
To know the true history of the War of Divine Fire, one would still have to go to the deepest level of the Elven Great Historical Archives.
That was the seat of the Elven Council of Elders.
If she wanted to enter, she had to find an Elven Elder — not one from the modern Sacred Wood Monastery, but an Elf born before the War of Divine Fire who hadn’t become a hero.
Coincidentally, she had learned beforehand that the Starlight Opera House’s famous actress, Evian, was the granddaughter of such an Elder.
Through her, she might be able to enter the deepest part of the Great Historical Archives.
“Wendy, I want to go backstage to meet the Elven actors. Do you want to come with me?”
After adjusting her mindset, Isabella looked at Winnidith, feigning a moved expression.
However, she keenly sensed the lingering fear on Winnidith’s face, and alarm bells rang in her mind.
‘Could there be something in this play that I failed to sense?’
Suppressing her inner unease, she comforted her in a soft voice.
“What’s wrong? You look uncomfortable.”
“No, I…”
Winnidith hesitated over whether to tell her about the vision she had seen inside the Fountain of Memory.
Compared to the “authentic” historical records, the dream she had was far more bizarre.
Especially that monstrous bird covered in spider eyes; the mere thought of it made her skin crawl.
‘That was definitely not something benevolent!’
But in the end, she chose to tell Isabella.
If she even kept things from Isabella, she couldn’t think of anyone else in this world she could confide in.
“Let’s talk later,” she whispered into Isabella’s ear.
Isabella understood and scanned their surroundings.
She suddenly noticed that the Elven audience members, who should have left after the play ended, were all standing in place, staring at them.
Their movements, expressions, and gazes were all eerily identical.
They were like a group of puppets.
“Your Highness, please be careful. These Elves feel very strange to me.”
Arns drew his sword.
His combat instincts were warning him that what stood before them were not living beings, but rather monsters that had escaped from the Demonic Abyss.
What was going on?
Arns and Isabella were both on high alert, but at that moment, Winnidith urged them.
“Let’s leave, quickly. They won’t stop us.”
Winnidith silently activated her Elemental Vision.
In her field of view, a transparent thread was attached to every Elf.
These threads led up into the sky, linked together like a mass of tree roots.
‘Is this how this power is used?’
Winnidith clutched her chest and then shook her head.
The energy showed no signs of rioting, and there were no threads on her body like the ones on those Elves.
At the very least, it meant that its uses were not limited to this one method.