Chapter 950 – The Missing Elves

“They must have gone to gather Dreamstar Epiphyllum…” Mo Lan’s heart swelled with both gratitude and unease.

To give her a perfect coming-of-age gift, her two best friends had actually ventured so far into danger.

But no matter what, they would never miss her coming-of-age ceremony—unless something had happened!

Mo Lan immediately found Chieftain Matil and told her everything.

“You’re right, Moira—they’ve very likely run into trouble!” Matil took the matter seriously at once. She turned to a male Elf of calm and composed bearing beside her and spoke rapidly: “Aiwendar, I need you to go immediately. Head toward Stardrop Falls at maximum speed, and watch for any trace of Polly and Celine along the way. If you find anything, prioritize their safety and report back at once.”

The Elf called Aiwendar was a Sixteenth Rank high-level druid, renowned throughout the tribe for his extraordinary speed of travel.

He had mastered the rare Swiftwind Falcon wild transformation.

The Swiftwind Falcon was sleek of form with a broad wingspan, its feathers a streamlined blue-grey that resonated naturally with Wind Elemental Magic. Both in short-distance sprints and long-range flight, its speed was among the absolute best in the forest.

Aiwendar wasted no words, merely nodding with steady composure: “Understood, Clan Leader.”

He stepped back several paces, away from the crowd, and the glow of the forces of nature began to ripple across his body. Within that radiance, his form shifted and contracted rapidly, bones emitting faint crackling sounds as his clothing seemed to meld into feathers.

In the span of just two breaths, a magnificent Swiftwind Falcon stood where he had been! Its blue-grey feathers were smooth as satin, its gaze sharp as lightning, and when its wings spread wide, they stirred a gentle breeze.

Swiftwind Falcon Aiwendar dipped his head slightly toward Matil and Mo Lan, then beat his wings once. With a near-inaudible crack of displaced air, he transformed into a streak of blue-grey light, shooting skyward in an instant and hurtling east toward Stardrop Falls!

His speed was so great that he left a fleeting trail of light across the night sky.

Mo Lan clenched her hands, her fingertips slightly cold, wishing she could cast a few luck spells on herself, or use Divination Magic to read the fortunes ahead.

She could only hope Aiwendar would bring back good news—that it was merely a false alarm, that Polly and Celine had simply been delayed by something interesting, and would soon appear before her, laughing, carrying Dreamstar Epiphyllum still damp with morning dew…

But time crept by, minute by minute. The banquet had long since ended, and the Elves had gradually dispersed, leaving only Matil, Mo Lan, Dominic, and several high-ranking professionals waiting in silence beneath the Tree of Life.

The darkness before dawn was the deepest of all, and the chill in the air seemed to seep straight into one’s heart.

Waiting—long and agonizing.

At last, when the first pale sliver of dawn appeared on the horizon, a blue-grey shadow shot back from the east like an arrow, rapidly descending, folding its wings in the clearing before the Tree of Life. A flash of light, and Aiwendar’s form reappeared.

His expression was grim beyond measure, tinged with grief and fury he could not fully conceal. The hem of his clothing was streaked with dirt and… dark stains.

He strode quickly to Matil, his voice low and urgent: “Clan Leader, the situation is dire. Near the woodland path leading to Stardrop Falls, I found this.”

He opened his hand. In his palm lay several torn scraps of fabric threaded with colorful vine-silk patterns, along with a small, Elven-style sachet smeared with dirt and dark reddish bloodstains—Mo Lan recognized it instantly as the one Celine never parted with!

“There were also clear drag marks and numerous human footprints, leading out of the forest. Polly and Celine… they were most likely abducted by a human slave-catching party!”

The words “slave-catching party” made every Elf’s heart clench tight.

Although the Verdant Elf tribe maintained their distance from the nearest human kingdom, “Loren,” the Elves were not ignorant of the dark rumors that circulated in the human world—of certain greedy individuals who regarded Elves as rare commodities, hunting and trafficking them.

They had simply never imagined that one day it would happen to their own people—and to young tribespeople who had only just come of age.

“Slave catchers take Elves to sell for a good price, so Polly and Celine shouldn’t be in mortal danger for now—but their situation is certainly far from good. We must act quickly! Once they take their captives completely out of the forest and into human territory, the trail will be rapidly concealed or muddled, tracking will become far more difficult, and rescue will be even harder!”

Matil made her decision swiftly: “Rhindor, you’ll lead the team! You have the most experience and know the border situation best. Lila, you’ll serve as the team medic. Aiwendar, take the druids ahead to scout, and leave markers along the way so the rangers behind you can follow the trail…”

Several adult rangers and druids renowned in the tribe for their combat prowess, tracking ability, and adaptability were quickly called forward. Every one of them had sharp eyes and stood ready for action.

Mo Lan and Dominic rushed to Chieftain Matil and Elder Gallos almost simultaneously.

“I’m going!” Mo Lan’s gaze was resolute beyond question. She did not hesitate to reveal her true current strength: “I’m a Level 15 druid, Level 15 ranger, and Level 15 bard. I’m proficient in the Magic of all three classes. I’m familiar with both of their scents, and I won’t slow anyone down! Please let me join the team!”

Her words instantly drew the gaze of every Elf present—Matil included—all eyes fixed on her in disbelief.

Matil knew Mo Lan was exceptionally talented and progressed at remarkable speed, and she had noticed Mo Lan studying additional classes. But never in her wildest imagination had she expected that in a mere hundred years, Mo Lan had quietly pushed all three of her main classes to the height of Level 15!

She already qualified as a high-ranking professional.

Rhindor and Lila exchanged a glance and gave Matil a slight nod—they acknowledged Mo Lan’s strength.

“Very well! Moira, I approve your addition to the rescue team!” Matil declared.

Beside her, Dominic hurried to make his case as well: “I… I may only be a Level 10 ranger, but my archery is excellent. I can eliminate threats from a distance and create openings for the rescue. Clan Leader, Lord Rhindor—please let me go too!”

This time, Rhindor shook his head: “Dominic, this isn’t a hunting game. We’ll very likely have to enter human territory and face cold-blooded, ruthless slavers who may possess Magic or special means. Your strength… isn’t enough yet!”

Dominic’s face went pale. He wanted to say more, but under the unyielding gazes of Matil and Rhindor, he could only clench his fists in frustration and step back.

He knew they were right. A Level 10 ranger was quite impressive for an Elf his age, but in the kind of complex, deep-behind-enemy-lines environment they would face, he would indeed likely become a liability.