Turaman entered, and everyone fell silent.
"Bujia's wizard?"
"No, this time I am here representing Erune," Turaman replied.
"What do you mean?" the Great Elder asked, frowning.
"As long as the Withered Wood Council remains, rebuilding the Green Tower is merely a matter of time. The Magic Tide is temporary; stable order should be established through prolonged struggle and repeated failures."
"Are you here to help us?" someone asked.
Turaman shook his head and frankly said, "It's more that the southern Erune needs a stable defense line. If the Druids of the Trade Wind Ring are nearly wiped out, the Black Forest is bound to spread to my homeland; Erune can no longer afford to lose the region south of Ambeser."
"So you're staying to help us defend against the Wolf Calamity?"
