Down south deep into Clover Forest where the seemingly endless sea of green meets the unstoppable force that is a heart's desire lays Galendor the elven iron fortress at the center of clover forest.
Galendor is erected around an artificially created volcano that spews out lava constantly. The lava that comes out of the volcano's summit is not normal lava comprised of molten rock, but instead its molten ore. As the molten ore flows down from the top of the volcano it is funneled through large canals. Which is connected to thousands of automated factories throughout Galendor.
Every factory that the ore is sent to cools and filters the ore before it is further sent to other factories that will melt the ore down again to purify them and turn them into ingots. The manufacturing process never stops to keep up with the high demand for ore, gems, and crystals that mages and cultivators require.
As the endless stream of ore was being processed meticulously a meeting was being held at Galendor's central mage tower Hestera by some of the most elite elves and most important financial backers currently on clover Island.
Despite being called a mage tower Hestera itself wasn't a tower, but a palace built on the side of the volcano. Hestera acted as a stopgap and regulator for the artificial volcano as well as the main point of focus in Galendor's defense network.
Hestera is not a normal shaped palace it is a series of oval domes stacked on top of each other as it cascades down the volcano. Built from a white colored mana stone which is used in the construction of most magic related buildings because they can dampen the effect of magic directed at it.
Glass layered the top of most of the domes and through the skylight of one of the largest buildings at the top of the volcano the war meeting could be seen being held.
The interior of the conference room where the war meeting was being held had a futuristic style similar to the other surrounding rooms. Its floors were a spotless metallic chrome even the chairs were coated with real gold.
The room had four points of entry at every corner which gave easy access to the many seats that surrounded the seats of honor at the center of the room reserved for Galendor's most important backers.
As time passed all the seats in the hall were filled with representatives from prestigious clans allied for the inevitable battle to claim Delmar City. The six people who filled the seats of honor in representation of their clan stayed quiet as they waited for the war meeting to start. Their presence drew attention towards them to from the other surrounding members.
Despite having their every move scrutinized by the other magi and cultivators in the room the honored guests paid little mind to them. Such things are normal for people in positions of power and acceptable, so long as no one crosses their bottom line.
Zach a rank 3 spiritualist (Practically the same as a druid) preferred to meditate as he waited. He was human and wore dark purple tattered robes that glowed the same shade of green as the energy coursing through the cracks on his body. His skin was dark gray and appeared to be made out of wood at first glance, but was closer to stone. The staff that floated next to him appeared to be made out of the same material he was. It had thorns at its top and had the same rhythmic energy pattern as Zach's. Seemingly the only part of Zach's body that didn't pulsate with energy was his thick gray stony beard.
Sitting on a chair nearby squirming inside of a sack made of his own skin was a man named Ulric Baxter Rank 3 Bard. Ulric's unique form drew the attention of many people in the room. He was an oddity amongst bards, instead of any instrument he uses his own body to produce music. Whether it is the swishing of blood or bones pounding on flesh all shall be used in Ulric's work. His music is strange and many things are uncertain about him, but one thing that is certain his music was to die for.
Find authorized novels in Webnovel,faster updates, better experience,Please click www.novelhall.com for visiting.
Sitting nearby him was a woman named Miriam who was a rank 3 seer and a highly skilled puppeteer. Most seers have very low combat capabilities but are never looked down on by other mages. When strong enough seers can bend and distort fate. A force few truly understand, but all wish to control. Advancing as a seer is significantly more difficult than many other branches of magic because it requires the user to gather enough of the power of fate where it converges most. This doesn't imply random fights, but moments in time that hold true significance. Whether Its the end of a nation or the birth of a legend.
Miriam was a tall dark elf who by no means was as beautiful as Seraphine though she did have a unique charm about her. The robe she wore was made out of paper peculiar, but understandable given her profession because to truly advance as a seer one must give themselves up to fate. Miriam understood that and that's was why she managed to climb as high as she did.
Next to her was a rank 3 swordsman named Fabian. Fabian was a hobgoblin he wore nothing flashy only plain clothes. The thing that made him stand out amongst the group on the table wasn't the fact that he was a lowly goblin with green skin. It was his sword that caught the eyes of many. His sword was a masterfully crafted work of art that looks as though it was made from glass. It had a similar appearance to a katana, but that is as far as the similarities those two weapons share goes. The sword had no sheath allowing the blade to be seen by all, so they can admire its crystalline beauty.
Just beside him was a rank 3 illusionist named Braxa. He didn't sit on any chairs, instead, Braxa laid down on top of one of his bubbles with a playful grin. Braxa didn't like to were constrictive clothes that's why he wore only shorts that showed off his hairy legs, a white shirt, an orange jacket and a pair of flip-flops to tie his outfit together.
The last of the group was another dark elf who was a rank 3 Elementalist named Neal. Neal specialized in only fire magic, he sacrificed his affinity with most other elements to be one with fire. Neal wore dark red robes embedded with crystals that came from hunting elemental creatures. The air around Neal burned just like his robes that shifted between its physical form to flames.
Those six people were some of the strongest and most skilled in Hestera. So, it was only natural they would listen to those as strong or stronger than them. That is why each and every person in the room stood up without fail to pay their respects to the last person who entered the room.