Heavy footsteps trembled through the forest, shaking the roots of trees that stretched so high into the sky that even dragons had to lift their heads to see where the branches began to disappear into the green light above.

Compared to one of those trees, a human would look almost like an insignificant ant, small enough to be forgotten beneath the shadow of its roots. Their thickness and height told stories of ages long before the civilizations known today, standing there like silent witnesses to wars, kingdoms, and races that had already vanished from history.

The few elven survivors led an army of around twenty thousand warriors toward the white citadel hidden deep inside the elven forest, a place known in their mother tongue as the Forest of Forgotten Magic.

Max stepped between the massive trees, following behind the survivors while his eyes scanned the bark with faint awe. At first, his human greed naturally awakened. He thought of how much profit could be made from this place, how many houses could be built from a single trunk, how many cities could rise if even a small part of this forest was harvested and turned into materials for his growing empire.

But then he shook his head.

This place was different.

It carried history older than the people who now claimed it. Even the air here felt purer than anywhere he had been before, flowing into his lungs with a strange freshness that made his blood move more smoothly and his body feel lighter, as if the forest itself was quietly rejuvenating him with every breath.

There was something else he found strange as well.

The mana here tasted almost too sweet compared to any place he had restored before, even those lands where he had returned mana and created something close to paradise. This was different.

The mana did not feel like it had been forced into the land. It felt natural, alive, produced slowly and endlessly by the trees themselves. Perhaps, just like trees produced oxygen, these ancient giants worked with magic in the same way, breathing mana into the world through their roots, leaves, and bark, turning the entire forest into a living mana factory.

When evening came, the entire forest shifted in color.

The grass took on a soft glow, as if every blade had been made from light instead of nature. No simple green remained anymore. The ground had become multicolored, shining in faint waves of blue, gold, violet, and silver, and every single step Max took made that glow react to his presence, sending gentle pulses through the earth as if the forest itself was noticing him.

Something in the air seemed to whisper.

Max could not be sure at first. It sounded like wind slipping through leaves, but there was something softer beneath it, something gentle and almost alive, like a woman’s voice speaking from somewhere he could not see.

He stopped for a moment.

The sudden pause confused the warriors behind him, making several dragons look around with narrowed eyes, wondering if an enemy had appeared. But the elves leading the way reacted differently. Their eyes widened, and their steps almost faltered.

"Can he feel them?" one of them whispered.

He was a fairly young man with silver hair, and from a single glance, Max could tell he looked conflicted, as if he did not know whether to feel fear, disbelief, or something closer to reverence.

"Nonsense... only we can," another elf answered, his orange hair falling over one side of his face as he spoke. Both of them tried not to meet Max’s eyes, but it was already too late.

His gaze fell on them, and immediately, he could tell they knew something.

"What are these whispers?" Max asked, his voice calm but direct. "It sounds like wind, but gentle and soft, almost like a woman’s voice."

His question made countless dragons behind him listen more intently, their ears twitching, their eyes narrowing as they tried to hear something in the silent forest. To them, there was only the sound of leaves, distant insects, and the heavy breathing of the army moving through ancient trees.

"That..." Several elves hesitated, their pride and fear fighting on their faces, but the aura slowly rising around Max made them swallow whatever reluctance they still held.

"It is the whisper of the spirits we call Daerfaen," the silver-haired elf finally said, his voice quieter than before. "They inhabit this forest, living alongside the animals and elves. Nobody has ever seen them, not even our oldest elders, but their whispers guide us at night, lead us to safety, and protect us from evil."

That last word came out louder than the rest.

It was clearly aimed at Max.

But that was exactly what confused the elves. If Max could hear the Daerfaen, then the spirits had not rejected him. The forest itself had allowed his presence to reach them, and to the elves, that meant something far heavier than simple conquest. If the Daerfaen accepted him, then his new rule over these lands could no longer be dismissed as mere tyranny.

It could become justified.

And worse than that, it could make many elves abandon the old rule and follow the new one.

Max’s eyes narrowed slightly as the whispers grew louder.

They were no longer hiding in the wind. The voices moved between the ancient trees, soft and layered, brushing against the bark, the glowing grass, and even the scales of the dragons who could not hear them. Every step he took made the colors beneath his feet shine brighter, until even the elves could no longer pretend this was normal.

The silver-haired elf swallowed hard.

"The Daerfaen... are answering him."

That single sentence spread through the surviving elves like poison.

Max stopped walking.

The forest around him went completely still. No insects. No leaves. No distant birds. Even the mana in the air seemed to pause, as if the entire forest was holding its breath before something ancient decided what to do with him.

Then, from deep between the trees, a soft female voice whispered clearly into Max’s ears.

"Dragon King..."

His pupils narrowed.

The glowing grass ahead of him split apart, creating a path of silver light that stretched deeper into the forest, toward a place hidden beyond the trees.

The elves paled.

"That path..." one of them muttered, his voice shaking. "It leads to the heart of the forest."

Max smiled slowly.

"Then lead the way."