Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Farja started complaining again, her eyes sparkling.

"However, he seems to face the same reality as me: a weak offspring. Even our worries are so similar, haha... I really want, I really want an offspring who can rightfully inherit the Blue Dragon's legacy. But Moroki, as the ruler, has actually restrained his desires. What a cold-hearted fellow. The greatest king should sing the greatest love. Letting bastards multiply will only lead to the overall corruption of the forest."

"Ah, I've been neglecting you a bit, Lord Wolan. Go to that wandering city and get along well with your dear brother Moroki."

Falga gazed at Volan's flushed face, a fleeting hint of mockery in her eyes. Watching his trembling body kneeling respectfully, the pleasure of fooling a man made Falga want to burst into laughter again, but she held back.

“My Queen, I will remember your instructions.” Wolan’s face was hidden in shadow as he gritted his teeth and spoke words against his will.

"My favorite, step down. Please rest well for your important diplomatic mission."

The sound of Volan's footsteps disappeared outside the royal court, and the elf, still kneeling and feeling sore all over, sighed.

To their queen, the royal court might just be a farce. This could extend to the entire royal family, the entire country, and the entire elven race.

The Elf Queen is a naturally romantic queen.

She was a beautiful flower that bloomed naturally, but happened to grow on a throne.

Chapter 813 The Root of Calamity

"Very well, if there's nothing else, you may leave. Everything that needed to be done has been accomplished, the battle is over, and it's time to rest and recuperate in peace." After Volan left, Falga seemed to have lost his mood for joking and decisively ended the royal court meeting. The elves slowly rose and left the royal court in small groups.

Soon, only the two remained in the once-empty royal court.

Farga, seated on her throne, stood kneeling motionless before Wilder. The Lady of Nature parted her lips slightly: "Kylo Ravenfeather, son of Welt and Sandra."

The boy's hands, which were supporting him on the ground, were slightly open, and his bowed head showed even more respect.

“The son of Welth and Sandra praises your wisdom, Your Majesty, but how did you discover my identity?” Wilder’s alias was exposed, and the boy seemed somewhat relaxed in the face of the Queen’s majesty.

Farja's indifferent tone rose slightly.

“No two leaves in the world are exactly alike, but the forest remembers every special child. The Shiren family is a direct lineage that serves the Queen. It was created by me as a disguised noble family to take in war orphans. Every war will deplete my people, but I will not let tender children perish, for they will lose their support.”

“After each war, I require the Samurai family to select a new representative; this is a rule I established.”

"Why me?" the boy asked.

“Status and talent.” Falgar looked down at the boy. “I believe only children can speak for children. You share the same status as everyone else. You understand the feelings of all children, and you can lead them to fight for your true happiness. You, whose families have been broken, can understand each other’s loneliness and become each other’s new family. Your talent has been carefully selected. I trust the judgment of Wolan Shiren. He dared to introduce your status to me, so you certainly possess talent comparable to that of the nobleman Wilder Shiren.”

Kylo crossed his arms, making his already small figure appear even smaller.

"My coming-of-age ceremony is still twelve years away and should be witnessed by my parents."

"Time won't wait for you to come of age! Whether you accept it or not, you have become their older brother and their parent. Or are you going to hand over the power I bestowed upon Shirou to those real 'adults'? Are you willing to be controlled by others and let those adults who have no blood ties and no love manage you? I respect your choice."

The boy muttered a few words, then looked up, revealing his light gray eyes to Falga for the first time.

"...I don't want to change my name."

"This is your freedom. You are now the head of the Samurai family."

Kylo Shiren's eyes darted around; he did indeed possess an extraordinary level of composure.

“What about my uncle…” Carol’s insane behavior in the royal court surprised Carol. He was certain that the favorite had received some special attention, and bad thoughts arose in his mind as naturally as water flowing along a ditch.

"He's broken."

Farga's eyes were filled with gloom, and the way she spoke of Volan made Kylo believe that the queen in the royal court was just acting.

“He was once my close confidant, a very good man, exceptionally good. I favored him greatly, but he seems to have misunderstood me. Wolan has overstepped his bounds, and he should be punished for it.”

“Kylo Shiren, don’t let your uncle appear before my eyes again.”

"Prove your worth to me, and I will transfer the favor I give to Wolan to you."

The cold, terrifying words made Kylo understand the Queen's true meaning. That one sentence suddenly flashed through his trembling mind.

The incarnation of the Earth Mother Goddess is a snake.

Falgar, this queen of immense power and beauty, rules the elves with terror. Her usual frivolity and playfulness are merely attempts to divert attention and reduce the aura of terror. But at her core, if one ignores the smiles that may appear mocking or angry, one can perceive her cold and ruthless heart.

Farga is a monster unlike any other mortal.

Kylo Siren's first encounter with the Elf Queen led him to a misconception about Falgar; she had people she cared about, but they weren't the so-called favorites.

"Family is the most important thing."

Leaving the cold-feeling royal court, Kylo Siren pondered his plan, only to encounter an unexpected person outside the court: Charles Nightingale.

"Hey, young man." He leaned against the tree and greeted Carol warmly. "Looks like you're the new 'favorite'."

Kylo didn't answer, but calmly looked at Charles.

"Wolland always thinks he can win the Queen's favor. Sometimes I can't understand it. Her Majesty is high above and has obviously distanced herself from people like us. Don't have any ulterior motives toward the great Her Majesty, newcomer."

Feeling a connection, Kylo couldn't help but reply.

"I'm not an idiot."

Charles nodded in agreement.

"You gave the exact same answer as Volan. I remember it was a cloudy morning, just like this, after the war against the night elves ended. Volan Shiren was wearing a beautiful floral dress just like yours, his fear making him look like an adult."

"Our Queen possesses unique talents, just as flames attract moths and flowers attract bees. Lady Nature has a unique charm, but don't fall for it."

Kylo Shiren swallowed hard, recalling the excited voice of Volan Shiren and imagining himself in the image.

Is there no way to resist the Queen's charm?

“Yes, stay away from Her Majesty. She is like a whirlpool that drags down those who get close. However, as a servant, it is obviously impossible for you to stay away from Her Majesty. Rather, it is precisely because Her Majesty understands all this that she has chosen one among the people to isolate her from her favorites.”

Why would someone like that become a queen...?

"Because of the sacrifices you've made, His Majesty will be lenient with you, as long as you don't cross the line or surpass the Queen. What are you thinking?"

"The prophecy of the elder elf."

Charles suddenly realized, "Ah, are you expecting the Queen of Goodness to save you?"

The bloodline of King Adel is like twin flowers, one drinking from the nectar, the other from the mud. Though bound by the same lineage, they are like two sides of a mirror, loving each other deeply yet destined to destroy one another. The heart of the forest has made its choice: the solitary survivor will bloom with an eternal flower.

What made this prophecy even more famous was what the Mad King Adel said in his later years, when he angrily rebuked his daughter with a venomous look in front of his courtiers.

My daughter will return... Farja! You wicked woman, you will never be my heir!

Now seated in the court was the Queen of Evil, and the elves who feared her believed that her sister, representing the other side of Falgar, would defeat her and become the true Elven Queen. Unfortunately, those fools who openly propagated this heresy were all hanged. Along with the mad king and the old nobles who supported him, they were hanged by Falgar on the banyan tree in the royal court. That year, Falgar was still a minor; in the same year, she led her army to bury the Night Elves who had invaded the Forest Elves.

Calling the Queen by her name became a taboo, and anyone who offended her would be executed by Falgar herself.

Farga, in Elvish, means "one who brings misfortune" or "a source of trouble".

Chapter 814 Dream Elf

His white beard, barely ten centimeters off the ground, was stubbornly curled, with a few tender shoots peeking out from the gaps, swaying from side to side with the elder's steps. The old man wore a dark blue robe, his steps powerful and vigorous, even as he paced back and forth in circles, he spoke eloquently to himself in the deep mountains and forests.

"Her unique aura is so powerful that it leaves a deep impression. What would require a long period of interaction to evoke in others, she can achieve with just a glance or a gesture. Falka can easily manage her social network, making her unusually cold in terms of emotional response, which is not good. The elves are under her terrifying rule..."

“I sat here to rest, to listen to the forest’s breath and the melodious birdsong. Boss, can you please calm down and stop criticizing our adopted daughter? Besides, so far, Falga has done a pretty good job.” The reply came from a “moss wall.” If it weren’t for the movement of his lips, one would never notice his features blended into the moss, like a face growing from a tree root. As the wrinkles on that face writhed, his body began to detach from the moss. The disguise and transformation spell dissipated, revealing an old elven man in a dark green robe sitting at the cave entrance. His skin was like cracked tree bark, making him look even older than his boss.

"Quiet, second brother! Don't disturb my thinking!" The old man, who had been spinning in place, stopped, scolded him, and continued talking to himself. He didn't treat his brother as an audience; he was just talking to himself.

"Her aura of fear... I never imagined someone could be like that. Just one glance is enough to instill fear. Her special talent... there must be a way to change it... By the way, why isn't her daughter Tiffany affected? Hmm... maybe because she's a child, a child with blood ties to Falga. A flat response mechanism makes it difficult for her to feel emotions; blood ties are more precious to her. She'll treat her family as her only treasured possessions, because they are the only people she truly needs to be loved. The cold queen is showering all her affection on her daughter; we should start by changing her in this way... Falga can do better; at least she should pretend to be a normal person."

His direct gaze made it clear to his brother that what he was about to say was genuinely a complaint to his second brother about some of Farga's faults.

"All she does is laugh! She's been like that since she was little. Whether she's sad or angry, whatever negative emotions she experiences, she always wears that hideous grin. What's so funny about that? Like a madwoman, a queen who can't effectively respond to her subjects can't be a good queen!" He snorted and spat at his feet.

“What else can she do! Farga grew up amidst the resentment of her only blood relative. Sometimes she’s domineering, sometimes cruel, and sometimes unreasonable, but she’s still a good child…” The second elven elder touched his chest and patted it gently. “We can never be better than her. Don’t be too idealistic, elder.”

“That’s not what I’m angry about!” The old man glared at his brother, then went around in circles. “Falga is very smart. She knows what is right and can be rational, but she just doesn’t do it! She could have been a wise and refined monarch, but she still acts eccentric and willful. She doesn’t hold herself to the highest standards.”

"Talking badly about me behind my back?" The flippant tone made the old man's eyebrows rise. He turned his head and saw his adopted daughter standing behind him in a semi-transparent gauze dress, dressed in a flamboyant manner. Farga wore the mocking smile he disliked. "Disrespecting the Queen is punishable, even for you, elder."

"Don't mention it, I'm just squandering the kindness of raising you for a hundred years!" The old man started circling again, his dissatisfaction with Falgar's attire mingling with his complaints about royal etiquette, constantly mentioning the elegant elven king who had once appeared.

While he was rambling on, the second elder beckoned to Farja and smiled, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

“He has his old problems, you know that.” The Second Elder winked at Farja and draped his lichen robe over his adopted daughter. “When we die, remember to bury me far away from him. His voice is loud enough to shake the clouds in the sky.”

Farja leaned against the old man's shoulder and sniffed gently. "You changed your perfume, Second Father."

The Second Elder's old face blossomed like a chrysanthemum, and he said with a smile, "It smells like lilies. Would you like to try it? I've prepared a bottle for you."

The old man and the young girl began exchanging perfumes, completely ignoring the noisy, domineering old man.

"Is the Queen's work going well? She has just finished a war and should take a rest."

“As usual, the enemy is too weak.” Falga sniffed the back of his hand, then smelled the Second Elder’s scent, still finding him to smell better.

"Is it still impossible to turn off your special aura?"

“I can control myself to stop breathing, but I can’t control myself to shut down my aura.” Falgar shrugged.

"That's quite troublesome. Your aura that everyone fears really hinders normal communication. Will the boss's method work? The method of imagining others as Tiffany and showing them care."

Farja responded with a pout.

"What a terrible idea. This also made me realize that abnormal care is bound to lead to abnormal results. I have to change my mouthpiece immediately." Falga smelled the fragrance on her body, scanning herself as if searching for the scent of fear. "I've always thought your analysis was quite mystical, like how I'm a nightmare from the moment I appear, a terrifying being feared by everyone. I can't feel anything different about myself. Are you really afraid of me?"

The Second Elder smiled helplessly and gently patted Faljia's head.

"Yes, when the four of us first met you, we all got goosebumps. You know, you were only the size of a palm back then. Even after all these years, we still get some reactions when we're not paying attention. Look, our hair stood on end. Not to mention the third and fourth brothers, they can still be scared to death by you now."

“And what about my adoptive father? I don’t see him being afraid of me at all.” Falga pointed at the irritable old man with her chin. Perhaps sensing her adopted daughter’s gaze, the old man glared at them.

The Second Elder leaned close to Farga and whispered, "This man has maintained a ten-minute lead his entire life, and you, his daughter..."

"It can only be said that his obsession with being the eldest brother is more incurable than your fearful aura."

He heard it.

"Being born ten minutes earlier means you're older than me!"

"I've raised you for a hundred years, so I'm your great-father!"

The Second Elder looked around, while Farja stared directly at the stubborn old man.

"Where did Tiffany go, Dad?" The soft, affectionate call calmed the elder down. He was caught between anger and laughter, his face flushed as he stood there for a long time before finally managing to utter a sentence.