CHAPTER 153: ELF VILLAGE

Ling Yu’s gaze lingered on the woman, then drifted past her toward the village where dozens more moved about peacefully, tending to gardens, playing music, weaving flowers into each other’s hair.

No monsters. No screams. No blood.

It was like a paradise.

But her instincts screamed otherwise.

She gave a faint nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you for your hospitality."

The elf woman inclined her head gracefully, gesturing toward the path. "Follow me. The Elder will wish to meet the chosen of light."

As they followed, Ye Qingxue whispered under her breath, "Chosen of light? What does that mean?"

Ling Yu’s expression didn’t change, but her voice was low and sharp.

"It means this dungeon already knows who we are."

The village was a masterpiece of living magic, trees carved into homes, crystal lights hovering midair, children laughing as they played among glowing flowers. Every step they took released faint motes of light from the grass, as if the world itself welcomed them.

But Ling Yu felt the wrongness in the air. The mana here was too pure, too controlled. The kind of balance that only existed when something, or someone, was maintaining it with willpower.

As they reached the village’s heart, a great tree stood before them, its trunk wide enough to house a temple within. Silver leaves glowed faintly under the sunlight. At its base sat an elven elder, eyes closed in serene meditation.

When he spoke, his voice echoed not just in their ears but in their minds.

"So... the Destroyer of the Divine Anchor has come."

Ling Yu’s hand froze mid-motion.

The others stared in shock, but the elder only smiled gently, his eyes opening, bright, ancient, full of knowing.

"Do not be afraid," he said softly. "This forest has awaited your arrival for centuries."

Her pulse skipped.

Awaited me?

Before she could speak, the ground beneath them pulsed faintly, and the sky above shimmered like liquid light. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

[System Notification: Unique Dungeon "Sanctuary of Ysilra" recognized host signature.]

[Trial of Genesis Initiated.]

[All external entities denied entry.]

Ling Yu’s eyes widened.

This dungeon wasn’t just another gateway.

And she, Ling Yu, the one who shattered a Divine Anchor, was its chosen participant.

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*

Wind whispered through the trees, carrying the faint sound of laughter and distant chimes. But beneath the beauty, shadows stirred. The elves’ smiles were too perfect. Their eyes lingered too long.

And as Ling Yu stood beneath the ancient tree, her reflection in the Elder’s crystalline gaze shimmered, showing not her human face, but for a fleeting heartbeat, the faint outline of something divine, burning faintly beneath her skin.

The mark from the Divine Anchor glowed once at her throat.

Whatever awaited her inside this sanctuary, it wasn’t salvation.

The soft rustle of leaves brushed through the air like a whispering choir as Ling Yu and her small group took their first steps into the emerald expanse of the dungeon. It was a forest, yes, but not like any other they had seen before. The sunlight, filtering through the towering canopies, shimmered in faint silver hues instead of gold, painting the ground in ripples of light.

The trees were ancient, older than any civilization known to man, their roots so thick and deep they pulsed faintly with mana. Flowers bloomed in spirals, vines danced midair, and streams of pure crystalline water flowed between patches of luminous moss that glowed like starlight.

The very air itself was alive, imbued with an ethereal scent of fresh rain, mana, and life. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Sacred.

And yet, as soon as Ling Yu entered the heart of that beauty, the atmosphere trembled.

The tranquil forest wind stilled as though caught in fear. The sound of birdsong vanished. Every rustle, every hum of nature, grew silent. The forest seemed to hold its breath.

Nie Ziyu frowned. "Why is it so quiet...?"

Ye Qingxue gripped the hilt of her weapon and scanned the surroundings. "It feels... like something is watching us."

Ling Yu could already sense it. Countless presences hidden among the foliage, watching, waiting. Not hostile yet, but wary, like wolves guarding their territory from an intruder. Her crimson eyes flickered with awareness, her instincts sharpened. It wasn’t that she felt threatened; it was that she herself was the threat.

Then, before any of them could react, dozens of figures appeared, stepping gracefully out from behind the trees. Their movements were so light and fluid, they seemed like illusions woven from moonlight itself. They were tall, slender, and unnaturally beautiful faces carved with symmetrical perfection, their ears pointed like delicate blades.

"Elves..." Ye Qingxue whispered in awe.

Their hair shimmered in various hues, silver, pale gold, and forest green, and their eyes gleamed with crystalline colors unseen among humans. Every one of them emanated mana so pure it was almost suffocating. They wore garments of woven leaves and silk threads spun from the forest’s energy itself.

But their beauty was marred by the looks they gave to Ling Yu, eyes filled with cold wariness, as though staring at a predator that had wandered into their sanctuary.

Ling Yu had seen that expression before.

Fear.

She let out a small breath, trying to hide the faint ache that settled in her chest. She had grown used to this kind of look, ever since she had been marked as a Dragon Slayer; the weight of that title clung to her like a curse. The slaying of a divine beast wasn’t seen merely as a feat of strength. To many, it was an act that defied the heavens. And to races like elves, who worshiped nature’s balance, someone who had slain a creature of divinity was a walking calamity.

Nie Ziyu leaned closer and muttered, "They’re afraid of you."

"I know." Ling Yu’s tone was calm, but her expression softened slightly.

It wasn’t just the title. The faint remnants of the Divine Anchor’s curse still lingered in her veins, invisible to normal eyes but perceptible to creatures attuned to mana. The elves could feel the foreign divine energy, an aura that didn’t belong to this world, twisting faintly around her. To them, she was both an anomaly and a threat.

A murmur rippled through the elven warriors. Some reached for their bows. Others whispered prayers under their breath. The leader, a tall male elf with sapphire eyes and a silver circlet on his brow, raised his hand. "State your purpose, outsider. The forest trembles at your presence. You carry the scent of divine blood. Why have you come here?"

Ling Yu didn’t answer immediately. She looked him in the eye, unflinching. Her crimson gaze met his azure one like steel meeting ice. "We came to clear the dungeon. We don’t mean to harm your people."

The elf’s brows furrowed. "Dungeon? This is the Sanctuary of the Greenwood Elves. What nonsense—"

"Enough."

Nie Ziyu stepped forward, his usual playful expression replaced with one of rare seriousness. "Look, we’re not your enemies. If she wanted to destroy your village, she could’ve done it already. But she didn’t, right?"

Ye Qingxue followed up immediately, her tone calm and reassuring. "Ling Yu doesn’t attack unless provoked. You have my word, as someone who’s fought beside her."

The elves glanced at each other uncertainly. Their tension didn’t dissipate completely, but their leader hesitated, visibly reassessing the situation.

Nie Ziyu smirked lightly and added under his breath, "If anything, you should be thanking us. She probably saved your world from collapsing when she destroyed that tomb."

Ling Yu shot him a side glance but didn’t correct him. It wasn’t exactly wrong.

Before anyone could speak further, a melodious chime echoed through the forest, a sound like crystal bells carried on the wind. The elves straightened immediately, their expressions shifting from suspicion to reverence. The leader bowed his head slightly.

"The elders are coming," he murmured.

From the depths of the forest, three figures emerged. They were unlike any of the elves the group had seen so far.

The first elder was tall and willowy, his long silver hair flowing behind him like silk. His emerald-green robes shimmered faintly, embroidered with ancient runes that pulsed with mana. Despite his title as "elder," his face was youthful, radiant, and even. His eyes, however, carried the weight of centuries.

The second elder was a woman with hair the color of molten gold, her beauty ethereal to the point of being otherworldly. Her gaze was gentle but sharp, like moonlight on the edge of a blade.

The third was a dark-haired elf with deep amber eyes that held both warmth and wisdom. There was something tranquil and grounded about him, like the stillness before dawn.

Nie Ziyu and Ye Qingxue both blinked in disbelief.

"Wait, these are the elders?" Nie Ziyu whispered. "How are they so handsome?!"