The Council Chamber was at the very heart of the tallest tree in the city. It was a huge, round room with walls of polished, living wood. The air smelled of ancient trees and old magic. Seated on high, carved chairs were the Elven Elders. They were five of the oldest and most powerful elves in the Silverwood. Their faces were like masks, full of pride and arrogance.
Ren, Lyra, and Elara stood in the center of the room. Lord Aerion stood with them.
Elara and Lyra told their story first. Lyra gave a clear report, like a true knight. She told them about the journey, the Weeping Maidens, and the Death Knight. Elara told them about her time as a prisoner and how Ren had saved her. As proof, Lord Aerion placed the Core of the Lich on a stone table in the center of the room. The cold, dark energy from the core made the Elders look uneasy.
But still, they were not convinced. The Head Elder, a very old elf with eyes like chips of ice, looked down at Ren.
"Your stories are fantastic," the Elder said, his voice cold and dismissive. "You expect us to believe that one human boy and a simple knight did what our finest warriors could not? Tell us, human. What tricks did you use to defeat the King?"
Ren had been listening patiently. But he was tired of the elves' arrogance. He decided it was time to stop talking and give them a small demonstration.
He did not draw his sword. He did not cast a spell. He just let a tiny, tiny bit of his true nature leak out. He let the power of his [PRIMORDIAL] bloodline show.
The change in the room was instant. The air did not get colder. It became heavy. It felt like the weight of a mountain was pressing down on everyone. The soft, magical lights in the room flickered. The Elders, who were very sensitive to power, felt it most of all.
To them, it felt like a sleeping god had just opened its eyes in the room with them. It was a power that felt older than their forest, older than their mountains, older than time itself. It was the power of a predator at the top of the food chain. All the pride and arrogance vanished from their faces. It was replaced by a deep, primal fear. They were no longer looking at a human boy. They were looking at something they could not understand, and it terrified them.
In Ren's mind, a quiet message appeared.
[Your [PRIMORDIAL] bloodline has intimidated the Elven Elders. Your reputation with the Silverwood Elves is now 'Feared' and 'Respected'.]
The heavy feeling disappeared as quickly as it had come. Ren just stood there, smiling pleasantly, as if nothing had happened.
The Head Elder was pale. He was breathing heavily. He looked at Ren with a new expression of pure awe and terror.
"I... I see," the Elder stammered. "We... believe you." The other Elders all nodded quickly.
They immediately offered Ren and his friends any reward they wanted. Gold, magic weapons, ancient artifacts—anything.
Ren shook his head. "I am not interested in treasure," he said, his voice calm and clear. The Elders leaned forward, listening to his every word.
"I am interested in knowledge," Ren said. "I want to ask for permission to enter your oldest library. I want to read your most ancient books."
He looked directly at the terrified Head Elder.
"I want to learn about the history of the System. About the ancient wars. And about any beings who were powerful enough to call themselves 'gods'."