Chapter 2: Hope and Despair

The Elven group silently followed one another, advancing through the dense fog.

Leading the way was the soldier in a strange, rough military uniform, unlike any nation they had ever known. In his hand, he held a metal lantern emitting an eerie, mystical blue light, cleaving through the thick wall of fog to pave the way.

As he walked, without turning his head, the soldier spoke in a deep, hoarse voice.

"Hey! Elven Princess, what is your name?"

"It's Elara!"

Elara hastily replied, then timidly asked in return.

"And you... what is your name, sir?"

"What name?"

The soldier raised his armor-clad arm and stared at it for a moment, as if rummaging through his empty memories. Finally, he lowered his arm.

"I have no name! Truly... I have never even thought of having a name."

Elara looked at the massive back ahead of her, her clear eyes gleaming with empathy.

"Then... could you take the name of this land? The God of the Artila Forest. Isn't the name 'Artila' very fitting for you?"

The soldier paused his steps for a beat, then continued walking.

"That will do!"

The group continued their advance. They walked on and on, their exhausted legs dragging for over five kilometers before they could completely step out of the white fog's boundary.

An Elf collapsed onto the withered grass, panting heavily.

"Truly... is the fog in this land always this thick?"

At this moment, the soldier-who had now accepted the name Artila-turned his head to look at Elara. He handed her the lantern.

"Take it! Unless you want to get lost and rot to death in the fog. It is the only thing that can guide you in and out of this place!"

Elara accepted the lantern with both hands and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, sir!"

"Here, you are safe within the inner forest."

Having said that, Artila reached his hand into the void. From a magical spatial storage, he pulled out two massive wild boars that had been cleanly processed and tossed them onto the ground with a heavy thud.

"Rest here for now, and proceed deeper tomorrow morning!"

Elara did not hesitate to kneel on the cold ground.

"Thank you, sir! I truly appreciate your grace!"

"Stand up!"

With only his voice drifting through the wind, by the time Elara raised her head, Artila's towering figure had vanished into the night, leaving not a single sound behind.

"He disappeared?"

Elara took a deep breath, turning back to look at her kin who were fading from hunger and exhaustion.

"Everyone, let's rest here!"

The Elves quickly used the little remaining magic they had left to create a fire, butchering the two wild boars to roast and share among themselves. The flickering flames chased away the cold, and smiles began to gleam on their mud-smeared faces.

Early the next morning.

Elara and the Elven group cleaned up their traces and continued deep into the inner region of the Artila Forest. And then, they all froze, breathless at the sight unfolding before their eyes.

A colossal ancient tree, its trunk so massive that it obscured a patch of the sky, its canopy soaring high to pierce through the cloud layers like a pillar supporting the world.

"This land... No one has ever seen a tree like this before! Perhaps even the Demons have never known of this magnificent existence."

Elara whispered, her eyes wide with awe.

The further they walked, the more overwhelmed the group became.

Surrounding the giant tree were the ruins of a fallen civilization. Shattered towers, majestic fortresses, and gargantuan city walls had now turned to sand and been swallowed by moss. On the boulders were mysterious ancient characters that no one could decipher.

"A perished civilization? What exactly did this place once hold?..."

Thud... Thud... Thud...

The silence was torn apart by heavy footsteps shaking the ground. From behind the ruined walls, two giant humanoid entities, constructed from a mix of rusted metal and ancient wood, were slowly approaching.

The Elven warriors immediately drew their weapons, forming a circular defensive formation.

"Monsters?..."

Elara clutched the lantern tightly.

" 'Even if there were only one of these things, we might not be able to defeat it! This structure... Could they be some form of Guardian Golem?' "

The two entities drew closer. Just as Elara was about to step back to prepare a spell, one of the two machines suddenly halted. Its crooked metal arm slowly raised.

On that crude hand rested a pure white jasmine branch.

It offered the branch as a gesture of peace.

Elara froze, hesitantly pointing at herself.

"For me?"

The machine then emitted "creak... creak..." sounds from within its mechanical core, its head nodding as if to show agreement.

Elara dropped her guard, stepped forward to accept the branch, and brought it to her nose to smell.

"It smells so sweet! Thank you."

Seeing this, the machine nodded, then turned its back and, along with its companion, continued patrolling to protect this ancient land.

"They can be considered the guardians of this land, right? But to be so hospitable... Could it be that Sir Artila went ahead and reminded them?"

An Elven soldier replied.

"That is highly likely, Princess!"

"But the issue now is whether we should live temporarily in these ruins or build houses in the open land outside?"

Elara nodded thoughtfully.

"That's true..."

At this moment, the machine that had just gifted her the flower returned. She recognized it by the sequence of numbers "078" engraved on its left chest.

It approached, extending its long arm to point toward a flat plot of land not far away.

That place was vibrant with the colors of countless fruit trees: apple trees and pear trees heavily laden with juicy fruits.

"You want us to settle there?"

Machine 078 nodded.

"Alright, I understand!"

When the machine led the group to that area, Elara immediately delegated tasks.

The strong ones went hunting and foraging, while a few stayed behind to clear the ground and set up temporary tents.

Suddenly, Machine 078 lowered its center of gravity. From the top of its head, a metal antenna popped up.

Beep... beep... beep... beep...

Only a moment later...

Thud... clomp... thud... clomp...

The ground shook continuously. Dozens of machines with similar shapes

simultaneously approached from every corner of the ruins.

Elara was truly astounded by the number of guardians in this place. 078 began emitting intermittent mechanical sounds, seemingly giving orders and assigning tasks to its kind.

The scene that followed left the entire Elven group stunned.

Those colossal war machines automatically divided themselves up to help them. Some carried massive logs, while others chopped branches to create building materials.

A few even uprooted an entire large apple tree, shook it to drop all the ripe fruits onto the ground for harvesting, and then carefully replanted the tree back into its original spot.

Watching these inanimate machines tirelessly assisting her people, Elara's eyes welled with tears.

"Thank you, sir... and thank you all for your help."

She hastily wiped a teardrop, smiling bitterly.

" 'At least in the past, placing faith in the Holy Church's ridiculous gods only brought hopelessness and despair. When times were truly hard, no one came to help. But now... a wanderer like me has truly found a new hope.' "

After settling the camp area, Elara devised a risky plan. She, along with a group of elite warriors carrying the lantern, passed through the layer of fog to return to the Humans' campsite from last night.

Machine 078 seemed to understand her intentions; it dragged two wooden and iron handcarts out from the ruins and handed them to the group.

Elara crossed her arms over her chest and bowed deeply before 078 to express the profound gratitude of the Elven royal family.

They returned to the battlefield to scavenge everything usable.

When they left, they only had two handcarts, but when they returned, they brought back a full five. From the cargo wagons abandoned by the merchants to rations, weapons, armor, and blankets... Everything that could be utilized for survival, Elara gathered up completely.

To prevent the land from being tainted with filth, she ordered her soldiers to throw the corpses of the Holy Kingdom's people into a fast-flowing stretch of the nearby river.

There was only one thing that left Elara endlessly puzzled during the cleanup.

" 'Strange... I remember clearly that the Sixth Holy Lance was beaten to a pulp by Sir Artila, yet her corpse is not here?' "

At the same time, on the plains dozens of miles away from the Artila Forest.

The Sixth Holy Lance - The Rose of the Holy Church - Rosalie Seina was enduring the most miserable hours of her life.

Her proud silver armor was now warped, a large piece torn away from being violently smashed into the ground. Her body was bruised and bleeding. She had to use her greatsword as a walking cane, struggling to drag her feet step by step to a small town.

Here, she encountered a merchant caravan preparing to return to the Holy Capital.

Rosalie had to grit her teeth and use the little remaining pocket money she had to buy a seat on a carriage. At the very least, she had to return to the Holy Capital to report the details of this horrific incident.

The merchant caravan leader looked at her appearance and spoke in a teasing, highly sarcastic tone.

"Well, well! Why is the Rose of the Holy Church so battered? Just yesterday I saw you proudly carrying your sword alongside the Duke's party to hunt Elves, and now you return looking half-dead like this? And why are you alone? Could it be that the Sixth Holy Lance lost to a bunch of Elven slaves wearing shackles?"

Rosalie bit her lip so hard it bled, an overwhelming sense of humiliation rising within her. She forced a reply.

"I... I... Sigh! The Demon of the Artila

Forest... it truly exists!"

"The Demon of the Artila Forest?"

The merchant curled his lip.

"It's just some nonsense legend to scare children!"

"But... But it swung its axe once and slaughtered an entire army!"

"Hahahaha!"

The merchant burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"If you're going to lie, at least make sense, girl! If it's that strong, then why are you the only one still alive and kicking here? Did a bloodthirsty demon suddenly spare the life of the Sixth Holy Lance like yourself?"

"The truth... that really is the truth!"

"Oh, really? Then if you bring this truth back and report it to the Holy Church, they will 'surely' believe you! Hahaha! I'm dying of laughter!"

Rosalie bowed her head in shame.

"I cannot explain any further. Believe it or not, that's up to you!"

But deep down, what made Rosalie tremble in fear right now wasn't how terrifying that monster was.

The thing that caused her to panic so much that her hands holding her chin wouldn't stop shaking, was the Holy Church and the Duke.

An entire army wiped out, and only she-and solely she-survived to return in one piece. There would be no one to testify to what she said. The Holy Church would undoubtedly view her as a deserter, making up stories to hide her incompetence. They would strip her of all protection.

And worst of all, the Duke would take this opportunity to demote her to a slave to pay off the debt for the failed shipment.

A life in the hands of a brutal Duke... she didn't dare think any further.

As night fell, the caravan stopped to set up camp.

Rosalie lay huddled in the corner of the carriage, her face streaked with tears, but she had to bite her hand tightly to keep from crying out loud.

She was not alone; she also had a younger sister at the Holy Capital's orphanage. If she were to be deposed and turned into a slave, what would happen to her younger sister? Cast out into the streets, or sold into the filthy brothels of the nobility?

How could she explain this to preserve her life against the executioner's blade of the Holy Church and the Duke? To what extent would her honor and dignity be trampled upon?

She didn't know. She only knew that darkness was truly surrounding her fate.

Resting her head on the stalks of straw, Rosalie could only cry alone in the worn-out carriage.

" ' Sob... sob ... I need to do something to prepare for my little sister's safety! Yes... I must act soon!' "

Chapter 2 Information:

078 - Autonomous Machine:

Energy: (Damaged Plutonium core) Utilizes solar and wind energy to maintain operations.

Function: Guardian, protecting the central area and the Giant Tree.

Weapons: Basic combat system (Left arm integrated with a machine gun, right arm is a metallic melee fist).

Mechanism: Operates on a semi-programmed mechanism (Automated patrol with the ability to receive direct commands from the manager).

God of Artila:

Appearance: Giant humanoid physique, 2.20 meters tall. Wears a worn-out, dark brown tactical military uniform, practical but bearing no military rank or insignia. Possesses white hair and eyes as glowing red as the flames of vengeance, easily mistaken for a demon in the dark.

Authority: Has the ability to sense any geographical/biological changes throughout the entire area.

Structure of the Artila Forest:

Basic Terrain: Centered around the Giant Tree. Encompassed by a closed, circular river, combined with a long river branch that bisects the forest.

Outer Forest: A radius of about 8km. The densest forest area, overgrown with trees and containing the most wild beasts.

Fog Zone: A radius of about 3km. Thick fog persists year-round, stretching from the ground straight up into the blue clouds. Looks normal from a distance until one steps right up to its boundary.

Inner Forest: A radius of about 5km (measured from the fog boundary to the center). A sparse forest area, interweaving treeless grassy clearings and small clusters of woods.

Central Zone: A radius of about 3km (measured from the edge of the inner forest to the Giant Tree). The concentrated area of ruins and colossal architectural heritage from a perished civilization.

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