"We must launch a counterattack immediately!"
"We have to stop these monsters!"
"They will destroy all the frontline outposts, and our centuries of effort in the Black Forest will be in vain!" The Druids voiced such roars of anger among themselves.
The Great Elder tapped the ground with the wooden staff, the crisp sound of the strike quieting the somewhat chaotic scene:
"How many monsters are there?" the old man asked.
"Countless." The initial Druid replied.
Countless.
Brand stood behind the tall Great Druid behind the Great Elder, and for a moment, no one noticed him, a human, present, and at this moment, he withdrew his gaze from the blood-red evening sky, then looked down at the town illuminated by scattered lights below the Green Tower.
From mid-air, the town seemed so distant from the Withered Wood Council, leaving only a sparkling blaze. He certainly didn't know what was happening there, but the Druid's answer evoked a memory in him.
Countless.
