Chapter 998 – Leaving Thelan

From that day on, Mo Lan became a constant presence around young Vasida and young Traci, frequently recording their lives with her magical camera and paintbrush.

Countless heartwarming or hilarious moments were captured in photographs and magical paintings. She used the Book of Cards to make several copies of these photos and paintings—some were given to Vasida and Traci’s Elf parents, while others were sent to Lilith and Sylph in exchange for photos of them in their hatchling dragon forms.

After too much embarrassing history had been documented, Vasida and Traci were no longer happy to see her every day. They had also made Elf friends closer to their own age.

When Mo Lan had nothing to do, she took on the role of the tribe’s new Elvish writing teacher.

She chose to continue Elder Rhindor’s tradition, and depending on the weather, she would set aside one fixed day each week to teach the young Elves how to write Elvish script on the grass.

After the tribe’s library beneath the Tree of Life was completed, she would occasionally tell stories of the high Elves to the slightly older underage Elves in the reading room, planting seeds in their hearts about casting magic free from the magic web and mastering complete magic.

She waited until young Vasida and young Traci turned fifteen—not only had their bodies grown strong, but they had also formally entered extraordinary professions, becoming low-rank professionals with legitimate means of casting magic to protect themselves—before Mo Lan began preparing to leave the Seran world.

After discovering that the Seran world’s world consciousness had a fairly high favorability toward her, she had made inquiries.

The “Divine Realm” of the Seran world was indeed where Explorers who exceeded the world’s upper limits stayed. It was the same in nature as the Valen world’s Explorer’s Camp—the people there were active on stages within the Well of the Sky and the cosmos.

She still had the Seran world’s world invitation token in her possession and could come back anytime she wanted. Under these circumstances, whether she returned to Valen or went to the “Divine Realm” made little real difference.

When she announced to Chieftain Matil, Polly, Celine, and others that she had felt the “call of the Divine Realm” and would soon be departing for the “Divine Realm,” they were reluctant to see her go, but more than that, they were happy and proud of her!

“It has been a very, very long time since any nature Elf has been able to set foot on the path to the Divine Realm.” Chieftain Matil held Mo Lan’s hands. “But you are different, Moira. You brought back the wisdom of the high Elves and ignited a new flame for us. Starting with you, this path will no longer be sealed shut by thorns.”

Tree Spirit Mother, Grandmother Matil, Polly, Celine… every nature Elf in the entire Emerald Green Tribe was proud of her.

Her words were no empty praise.

The high Elf heritage that Mo Lan had brought back—especially the portions concerning nature magic—had brought unprecedented inspiration to Matil, Rhindor, and the many other nature Elves who had been stuck at level 18 for years.

They could see the possibility of breaking through the level 20 threshold and touching higher realms. More and more of them were entering seclusion for intensive cultivation, and the strength and depth of the tribe’s upper echelons were quietly undergoing a fundamental transformation.

Tree Spirit Mother’s consciousness also gently enveloped Mo Lan: “Child, go and see the wider world! I will always be here waiting for you!”

Polly and Celine were crying rivers of tears, hugging Mo Lan tightly and refusing to let go.

“We hear that the great ones in the Divine Realm are all very busy. Moira, focus on your own matters without worry—we will definitely train hard and come find you in the Divine Realm!”

Vasida and Traci had by now grown into tall, slender Elves with the first hints of a young woman’s figure. Only the two of them knew that Mo Lan’s departure this time was not to some “Divine Realm,” but a return to Valen.

The two of them felt no sorrow over the parting—only relief.

Finally! They finally no longer had to be on guard every moment against that magical camera and Mo Lan’s seemingly omnipresent eyes!

Heaven only knew how they had survived these fifteen years.

The first time they drooled, the first time they fell and got a mouthful of mud, the first time a wood sprite pulled their hair, getting chased by little forest animals until they had to climb a tree… every single moment that qualified as “embarrassing history” had without exception been precisely captured by Mo Lan—either photographed or, if she happened to witness it, memorized and painted into a magical painting. Those things were not only cherished and carefully preserved by their Elf parents, but had also been “shared” by Mo Lan with the other Sorceresses!

Mo Lan walked up to the two of them. Looking at the two little ones who, despite having grown considerably taller, were still a full head shorter than herself, she suppressed a smile and ruffled their hair: “Grow up well! You can’t leave the forest until you come of age, understand?”

“…” The corners of Vasida’s and Traci’s mouths twitched almost imperceptibly at the same time.

Go already, just go! We’re begging you! We can’t take even one more day!

Vasida screamed internally.

Watching Mo Lan disappear into the distant sky, Vasida and Traci let out a long breath of relief. Their shoulders seemed to shed a thousand-pound burden, and even their breathing felt freer.

The “photography demon” that had loomed over them for fifteen years had finally left!

However, this relaxed atmosphere lasted less than three seconds.

“Click!”

A crisp sound that made their scalps tingle—a shutter click so familiar it shook them to their very souls—rang out behind them without any warning whatsoever.

Vasida and Traci froze instantly. With disbelief and horror, they slowly, inch by inch, turned their heads.

There, not far away, Mama Polly and Mama Celine had appeared together at some point without them noticing.

Polly was holding a small, compact magical camera in her hands, aimed at the patch of sky where Mo Lan had disappeared, looking satisfied with the image she had just captured.

And in Mama Celine’s hands was another magical camera of a slightly different color. At this very moment, its gleaming lens was aimed steadily right at the two of them—to be precise, right at their expressions of overwhelming relief that they hadn’t yet had time to put away, expressions that could only be described as “survivors of a catastrophe.”

“!!!”

Vasida’s and Traci’s pupils quaked simultaneously.

Mo—Lan—!!!

A silent wail of despair erupted in both their hearts.

They could practically envision how Mo Lan, before her departure, had “quietly” gifted the cameras to their Elf mothers and “imparted” to them the philosophy of how important it was to “record every moment of your children’s growth”!

Polly lowered her camera, and seeing her daughters’ dumbstruck, soul-departed expressions in the viewfinder, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing:

“Oh my, this ‘magical camera’ that Moira left behind is really wonderful! Look, I captured the moment Moira left—we can look at it whenever we miss her.”

As she spoke, she very naturally aimed the lens at Vasida and Traci once more. “Come on, sweethearts, look at Mama! Let’s commemorate this special day!”

Celine also smiled as she adjusted her angle, her tone gentle yet brooking no refusal: “That’s right. Lady Lila is still in seclusion and couldn’t come see Moira off in person, so let’s take a few extra photos to show her when she comes out. Vasida, Traci, give us a smile! The expressions you had just now were perfectly natural!”

Vasida: “…” No! Not natural in the slightest! That was sheer terror!

Traci: “…” She had already begun silently contemplating the feasibility and consequences of an “accidental” equipment malfunction.