The Elven Cultivator

Silver Moon Forest, before the defensive line.

A row of tall oak sentinels stood silently, their boughs stretching out like giant arms. Their overlapping canopies intertwined, slicing the daylight into countless tiny, fragmented spots of light.

Dozens of figures stood beneath the trees, deathly silent.

Aside from the high-ranking members of the Elf Race, the three Dwarven elders from Gray Rock Castle were also all present.

Everyone stared intently at the enormous Water Curtain in the empty space before them.

The Mirror Shadow Sparrow faithfully projected the scene from the wasteland onto it, revealing every last detail.

Upon the wasteland, a tide of grayish-green Lizard-men spread out, packed so densely that one could not see their end.

A rough glance revealed at least seven or eight thousand of them.

They were arranged in several square formations on the plain. Although the formations were loose, messy, and undisciplined, the overwhelming murderous aura seemed to surge through the Water Curtain, causing everyone present to unconsciously tense up.

Judging by their numbers, the Molten Spike Tribe had clearly mobilized its entire force, making it obvious they intended to annihilate the Silver Moon Race in a single battle.

However, what was even more eye-catching were the hundreds of exceptionally large creatures next to the Lizard-man formations.

They stood between 2.5 and 3 meters tall, with physiques as stout as hillocks. Their grayish-brown skin was as rough as rock, covered in crack-like patterns, making them look like walking stone statues.

"Stone-skinned Giant Demons…"

the Second Elder spoke in a low voice, his expression grave.

Everyone's expression turned solemn.

Stone-skinned Giant Demons have low intelligence, but they possess immense strength and an extremely tenacious Life Force.

Ordinary swords and blades striking them could only leave a few white marks on their stony skin, failing to cause any fatal damage.

Even with severed limbs or grievous injuries, they could slowly regenerate if given enough time.

What was even more terrifying was their fearlessness in the face of death. Once driven into battle, they would charge like mad dogs until they either tore the enemy to shreds or were killed completely.

An adult Stone-skinned Giant Demon possessed the strength of the Black Iron Tier.

And now, there were at least four to five hundred Stone-skinned Giant Demons on the plain—a fighting force that was, without a doubt, terrifying to behold.

"Those cold-blooded crawlers really have colluded with a high-ranking officer of the Dragon Race."

Cedric said with a deep frown.

Stone-skinned Giant Demons were one of the main military units of Kresol Dragon City's Vassal Army, and only high-ranking officers of the Dragon Race could command them.

The appearance of a Stone-skinned Giant Demon army while the Molten Spike Tribe was attacking the Silver Moon Forest made the implications perfectly clear.

"No wonder the Molten Spike Tribe has been lying low all this time. They went to Dragon City to find reinforcements."

Elena subconsciously glanced at Anton, feeling a little relieved.

'If Anton hadn't created the Yellow Turban Warriors, our combined forces of the Silver Moon Race and Gray Rock Castle would have been in for a huge headache against a Lizard-man army backed by Stone-skinned Giant Demons.'

"For hundreds of years, the Molten Spike Tribe has raided our homeland year after year, murdering our kin and burning our trees."

The Great Elder spoke slowly, his voice low and powerful, pulling everyone's attention back from the Water Curtain.

"Today is the day we settle old debts."

"Yes!"

The Elves responded in unison, a suppressed flame burning in their eyes, eager to incinerate the Lizard-man army outside the forest.

The Great Elder gave a slight nod, then turned his gaze to the three Dwarven elders and gave them a solemn, shallow bow.

"Thank you for Gray Rock Castle's support. The Silver Moon Race will remember this friendship."

"Don't be so formal, Great Elder."

Hagrid waved a large hand, a hearty smile spreading beneath his beard.

"I've long found those crawlers unpleasant. Today's a good day to kill them to my heart's content!"

Knut added in a gruff voice, "Dwarves never fear a fight, especially not against Lizard-men."

Thorvin didn't say much, simply taking the warhammer from his waist in silence.

The Great Elder smiled faintly and said no more, turning to look at Anton.

"Anton, the Yellow Turban Warriors are in your hands."

Anton nodded calmly, his hand stroking the Dimensional Bag at his waist.

The Yellow Turban Warriors were a surprise force. If used well, they could deal a heavy blow to the enemy.

And it was his job to decide when and how to use them.

"Great Elder, I've prepared a few things that can help everyone."

With a flick of his wrist, Anton produced a stack of Talismans out of thin air in his palm.

Before the Great Elder could speak, Romance, who was standing to the side, cried out in surprise, "Hey, isn't that the yellow paper you had pasted up in your room?"

Romance had been in and out of Anton's residence quite a few times, so she had naturally seen the Spirit Gathering Talismans he had previously posted in his meditation room.

She had once asked out of curiosity what they were, but Anton had brushed her off with a casual answer at the time.

But things were different now.

After successfully reaching Foundation Establishment, Anton had far fewer worries.

Moreover, this war was crucial to the Clan, and it was no time to be holding back. That was why he had taken the time to prepare a batch of Talismans while creating the Yellow Turban Warriors, to be used to boost his side's combat strength.

Seeing is believing. Anton directly pulled out a Light Body Talisman, activated it, and slapped it onto Romance.

In an instant, a cyan halo flashed over Romance's body and vanished. Immediately after, her eyes widened in astonishment.

"I feel so much lighter," Romance said, hopping on the spot a few times, a look of delighted surprise in her eyes. "How magical."

The onlookers were captivated by this scene and cast astonished gazes his way.

The Great Elder raised an eyebrow and asked thoughtfully, "Anton, are these… Scrolls?"

"More or less," Anton fibbed shamelessly, his expression perfectly composed. "It's a new type of Scroll I designed. I call them Talismans."

The crowd exchanged glances, their expressions varied.

After everything that had happened before, they were already getting used to the surprises Anton produced from time to time—or rather, they were becoming numb to them.

In their eyes, nothing Anton did now would be considered strange.

"This is a Light Body Talisman. It enhances speed and reflexes."

"This is a Vajra Talisman. It forms a layer of energy shielding on the body's surface to enhance defense."

"This is a Giant Power Talisman. It strengthens the power of your arms."

"And this is a Golden Blade Talisman. It increases a weapon's sharpness and durability."

With each explanation, Anton slapped the corresponding Talisman onto Romance.

Through Romance's firsthand experience and reactions, the crowd quickly understood the effects of these Talismans.

The three elders exchanged a glance, and each could see the shock in the others' eyes.

They thought more deeply about it than the other Elves.

The effects of the Talismans Anton had created weren't particularly unusual; Magic Scrolls could achieve similar results.

The problem was that Magic Scrolls were not cheap to produce. They required specially made sheepskin paper, Spiritual ink, and a Caster to spend a great deal of Magic Power to meticulously draw them.

Using Magic Scrolls on a large scale to boost an army's combat strength during wartime would undoubtedly cost an astronomical sum.

'And Anton hadn't recently requested any materials from the Clan for making large quantities of Magic Scrolls, so how did he manage to produce so many Scrolls… er… Talismans?'

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