Mage Legend-Chapter 350 - 26 Episodes Meeting (Part 1)_3

Yilinrui, who had regained her abilities, couldn’t quite describe her current emotions. Her two souls were struggling bitterly. One from the Prophetic Saintess, endlessly revered by her elven kin, and the other from Princess Yilinrui, who lived quietly without any achievements. She once believed that Lynch would be "that person in her destiny," but now everything indicated that this human would not walk along anyone’s fate. Her eyes clearly captured the trajectory of Lynch’s movements after he became invisible. Wherever she couldn’t see was a blank spot, there was the Mage.

Moreover, the man driven out of the Elf Forest because of her prophecy returned to Yilinrui’s memory. The difficult choices on both sides left her in a dilemma. She couldn’t express what she should do, only mechanically following the Mage’s footsteps.

Lynch lingered around the Residual Star Swamp, with Yilinrui waiting at the edge of these wetlands. When the Mage discovered her and approached, the elf truly didn’t know what to say.

"Perhaps Lynch might never recognize the person in front of him," Yilinrui thought.

Suddenly, Lynch vanished before her eyes without warning, leaving the Princess not even a moment to react. It was as if he left this world all at once. No matter how Yilinrui focused her mind, she could no longer find a trace.

"Could it be that he has finally escaped the path of destiny?" Yilinrui pondered, "Only when no Prophet can discover him, is he truly free?"

Gradually calming down, the elf’s thoughts started to clear, and she closed her eyes to perceive the surroundings. The entire Salantir was within her scope. After resting for more than seven hundred years, her abilities had reached a new level.

Without the help of a Beacon, she had already seen her mother’s last prophecy. The north, beyond the Ridge Mountains in the tundra, would be the turning point of everything.

At the edge of the Elf Forest, she saw the tower where the undead army gathered. Numerous holy relics from the Death World were itching to expand their numbers at any moment. Following their gaze out, a great fire would reduce Heather to ashes. The Holy Tree would turn to deadwood, the great lake would become a swamp, and the elves would become decaying bones under a dark sky. Everything was no different from the vision seven hundred years ago.

She left the Residual Star Swamp, heading firmly and swiftly towards the place where the undead were gathering. Along the way, she encountered no obstacles because she was fully utilizing her ability, known as "eyes surpassing those of the Elf Queen," to avoid any foes that might disrupt her path. She firmly believed she could appear before that tower unscathed.

However, in her heart, she hoped the ghosts would come to tear her apart. This way, it would prove that what her eyes saw could be changed, and Heather’s fate would not unfold as she foresaw.

Yet, she still stood beneath the Undead Tower. The putrid smell nearly suffocated her, and the twisted, eerie architecture stung her eyes, but none of this saddened her more than the near desperate despair in her heart.

"Show yourself, Master of the Undead Tower!" she shouted. Although Yilinrui already knew who commanded the undead army, the name of that elf still lay buried deep within her memory. Even with her powers restored, she couldn’t recall that name.

Perhaps, seven hundred years ago, she decided to seal that name away forever.

Only now did the undead notice the uninvited guest outside the tower, surprised that an elf could find such a hidden place. Ghosts and vampires bared their fangs and claws before her, screeching and provocatively tugging at her hair. Skeletons and zombies emerged from the soil, slowly converging, hoping to get a piece of warm blood and flesh once the other undead tore her apart. Only a few Banshees floated in the sky, appearing calm and unhurried. Maybe in the face of such perfect beauty, even these ever-changing Banshees would feel a sense of inferiority.

A figure leaped out from a window of the high tower, effortlessly leaping through the circle of vampires. It was only when the undead surrounded Yilinrui that such a security breach appeared here. With a few nimble leaps, she escaped into the Elf Forest, displaying agility that even elves would envy.

The ghosts were furious, immediately giving chase, intending to capture the "fugitive" ahead by the cruelest means to make amends for their negligence.

"No need to chase!" A hoarse voice echoed from within the tower. Yilinrui felt that the tone was like a dry wind sweeping over a desolate dune.

The gates of the Undead Tower slowly opened, and an elf, whose face had been lost, slowly emerged. His steps slightly faltered, suggesting a leg injury. Yet, he walked with elegance and composure, without a hint of hesitation or doubt, as if everything was within his control.

"Welcome, Holy Maiden of the Elf Clan," he said, "My name is Fyyian, the current master of this Undead Tower."

Yilinrui’s eyes narrowed into slits, as Fyyian’s destiny was as bright and clear as sunlight after rain. He would lead the undead into Holy Mountain Heather, turning it to ash. Then, this Undead Lord would become ash in the silver flame.

At the edge of Yilinrui’s vision, a cloud of black mist slowly expanded. Where this mist covered, it left the range of prophecy. Yilinrui only had time to probe the source of the black mist before being suddenly overwhelmed by a severe headache.

She let out a painful moan, stepping back and holding her forehead with her right hand. After the roaring in her ears subsided, beads of sweat broke out all over. She tenaciously refocused her gaze on Fyyian but could see nothing at all.

"You will not have the ability to see our future! This is what my master promised: to bring a new destiny to this world." Fyyian’s hands trembled violently, like a child who had received a beloved gift and couldn’t control his emotion: "A future free from the thoughts of any prophecy, a true path to freedom!"

Yilinrui slowly adjusted her breathing, calling upon the power of nature in her heart to alleviate her headache. Though she had devoted herself tirelessly to the Elf Goddess before sealing her memory, she was unabashedly a Druid. Even in this undead-polluted land where natural power was very weak, it was still enough to ease her suffering.

"Fyyian, why are you doing this!" Yilinrui demanded, "As an elf, do you intend to destroy Heather?"

Fyyian stepped back, as if struck in the chest by a heavy hammer. He looked at Yilinrui with some doubt, as if seeing this elven woman for the first time. The surrounding undead were all unsettled, quickly withdrawing from the encirclement and staying far from their master. The once clamorous tower grew quiet.

Fyyian said nothing, only took a mirror from his pocket and held it before his ruined face, crouching as he inspected himself. Then, he looked back up at Yilinrui.

"Do you really not know why?" Fyyian said hoarsely, "I recall that you understood everything a long time ago."

"In truth, what I desire is exactly what you hope for." He stood straight, adding,

This chapter is updat𝙚d by f(r)eew𝒆bn(o)vel.com