"You're right," another demon laughed wickedly, his sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight. "We don't have to fight now! Hahahaha!"
"You do know, right, that if we don't fight, we will lose this continent?" a deep, steady voice cut through the rising tension.
Max turned his head sharply to see a golden-haired, middle-aged elf descending gracefully through the air, his presence radiating an overwhelming authority that seemed to still the chaotic energy around them. His robes fluttered in the wind like banners of war, and his emerald eyes burned with quiet resolve as he moved to stand between Max and the four Expert Rank demons.
"Father…" Princess Lenavira muttered quietly, a flicker of relief flashing across her face.
Max's eyes narrowed as he assessed the new arrival. He already knew without being told—this was Elarion, King of the Elves of the Sylvaria Kingdom, and the undisputed ruler of one of the most powerful elven forces on the Lost Continent.
