Chapter 325: Chapter 298: Declaration and Alliance

Autumn, 9406 of the Chenxi Calendar.

A sudden piece of news, like a stone thrown into a calm lake, sent ripples across the Eldron Plain and the Green Highlands.

The Silver Moon Clan, rulers of these two vast territories, suddenly made a surprising announcement:

Effective immediately, the Clan would formally accept Half-Elves, granting them the status of a vassal race.

Any Half-Elf willing to seek refuge, regardless of their origin, could find a sanctuary in the Eldron Plain or the Green Highlands.

In truth, this declaration didn’t cause much of a stir in the Eldron Plain and the Green Highlands.

After all, the people here had grown accustomed to the Silver Moon Clan’s occasional and unexpected measures.

From accepting demi-humans of beastly descent on a large scale, to allowing the Vassal Races to become disciples of Taichu City, and now to opening their gates to Half-Elves...

In the eyes of many, this was just another one of the Silver Moon Clan’s many startling deeds.

They had already accepted demi-humans of beastly descent like the Catmen and Dogmen, so taking in Half-Elves hardly seemed like an earth-shattering event.

However, when the declaration spread to more distant lands through the Silver Moon Clan’s trade network, which covered over half the Dawn Continent, the resulting reaction far exceeded everyone’s expectations.

The reactions from most of the racial factions were varied.

Some were baffled, others jeered, and some simply watched on with cold indifference.

After all, as a mixed-blood race, Half-Elves had always held an awkward status on the Dawn Continent, and they possessed no remarkable talents.

The Elf Race refused to acknowledge them, the Human Race treated them as mere playthings, and neither the Dwarves nor the Beastmen wanted anything to do with them.

In the eyes of most, the Silver Moon Clan was simply asking for trouble.

But they only grumbled in private, not daring to openly question the Silver Moon Clan’s decision.

The only exceptions were the factions that relied on the slave trade as a major source of income; their reactions were far more intense.

Half-Elves had always been highly sought after on the slave market.

With their delicate features, docile temperaments, and lifespans far exceeding those of ordinary humans, they were the favorite playthings of the rich and powerful.

This declaration from the Silver Moon Clan was tantamount to cutting off their revenue stream.

For a time, numerous factions began to conspire in secret, attempting to form a coalition to pressure the Silver Moon Clan.

They exchanged information through various channels, discussed countermeasures, and some even proposed forming a joint army to teach this arrogant Elven clan a lesson.

However, these conspiracies soon fizzled out.

The Silver Moon Clan was no pushover.

Their formidable military strength, which held sway over two vast territories, was enough to make any faction think twice before making a move.

Moreover, the one standing behind the Silver Moon Clan was none other than the Fallen Dragon Sword Saint.

His power as a Legend at his peak, combined with the formidable reputation he had built over two decades on the battlefields of Subspace, was enough to make most people abandon any foolish ideas.

Those factions that had been clamoring to teach the Silver Moon Clan a lesson soon fell silent.

It was as if the preceding uproar had been nothing more than a farce.

Of course, it was also possible they had simply suppressed their resentment, choosing to lurk in the shadows and bide their time.

In stark contrast to the reactions of these factions were the Half-Elves scattered across the continent.

To them, the Silver Moon Clan’s declaration was nothing less than a ray of light in the darkness.

Many of them had been on the run since birth, migrating from one place to another, never having a place they could call "home."

Acknowledged by neither the Elf Race nor human society, they could only survive in the margins, constantly walking on thin ice.

Then there were the Slave Hunting Teams, like hyenas that had scented blood, relentlessly hunting for any sign of them.

The space they had to survive in grew ever smaller, as if the entire world were pushing them into an abyss.

But now, someone had finally extended a helping hand.

Once the news spread, Half-Elf communities across the continent erupted almost simultaneously.

The Half-Elves who had spent years hiding in remote valleys, deep swamps, and abandoned mines emerged from their shelters and began to migrate toward the eastern continent.

And so, in the days that followed, Half-Elves began to appear on roads all across the continent.

Whether in small groups or all alone, they traveled with their families in tow, carrying tattered bundles on their backs. They braved the scorching sun and driving rain, all trekking in the same direction.

This tide of migration gradually converged, like countless small streams flowing from every corner of the continent, eventually merging into an unstoppable torrent surging toward the east.

...

「Taichu Spirit Realm, Ninefold Celestial Tower.」

The doors to the puppet workshop were tightly shut, sealing it off from the clamor of the outside world.

Anton stood in the center of the workshop, his gaze fixed on a banner floating silently in the air before him.

The banner was pitch-black, its material neither silk nor linen. Faint, dark-red markings were visible on its surface, like streaks of dried blood that flickered in and out of sight in the dim light.

A thick, grayish-white mist swirled around the banner, ebbing and flowing, breathing slowly as if it were a living creature.

Anton raised a hand and made a pressing gesture in the air.

Magical Power surged from his palm like a tide, pouring into the Soul-Gathering Banner.

The dark-red markings on its surface abruptly lit up like a burning fuse. Light spread along their tracks, enveloping the entire banner in an eerie, scarlet glow.

The grayish-white mist swirling around the banner seemed to be drawn by an invisible force, and it began to converge at the banner’s center.

The mist churned, compressed, and solidified like a boiling, thick broth, gradually outlining humanoid figures.

Limbs, torsos, heads... The silhouettes grew clearer, their lines more distinct.

When the last wisp of mist was absorbed into the figures, the scarlet light abruptly vanished.

Humanoid phantoms drifted out of the banner, one after another, without a sound.

Their forms were a translucent, grayish-white, as if condensed from mist under the moonlight. Yet, they lacked the ethereal wavering of ordinary souls, instead appearing remarkably solid, as if compressed to their absolute limit by some unseen force.

They were clad in uniform, grayish-black armor, its plates overlapping like scales. Dark-red markings flowed faintly along the edges, like dried bloodstains seared deep into the metal.

Their faces were covered by helmets, revealing only two points of eerie green light where their eyes should be. The lights pulsed faintly in the darkness like a pair of undying will-o’-wisps.

They held an assortment of weapons in their hands.

Long sabers, short swords, spears, crossbows... Though the types varied, all of them radiated a cold, sinister gleam.

The entire troop of Shadow Soldiers remained utterly silent, floating quietly in midair. The only thing they emitted was a chilling aura that caused the temperature in the workshop to drop by several degrees.

Anton’s gaze lingered on the Shadow Soldiers for a moment before he nodded in satisfaction.

’It took a lot of effort, but I’ve finally managed to recreate the Shadow Soldiers.’

’Next, I can try crafting Fierce Ghost Level Shadow Soldiers.’

Anton thought to himself.

Shadow Soldiers also had a ranking system.

The lowest level was the Wandering Soul Level, corresponding to Cultivators at the Qi Refining Stage, with combat power ranging from upper Black-Iron Tier to the Silver Tier.

The Shadow Soldiers he had just crafted belonged to this very rank.

The next level up was the Fierce Ghost Level, corresponding to Cultivators at the Foundation Establishment Stage, with combat power sufficient to match Golden Tier Warriors.

The even higher Ghost General Level corresponded to Cultivators at the Golden Core Stage.

And above that, there was the Ghost King Level.

But that was already beyond what Anton could currently craft.

In fact, with the materials he had on hand, he could only craft Fierce Ghost Level Shadow Soldiers at best.

He was still unable to craft Ghost General Level Shadow Soldiers due to a lack of suitable core materials.

’High-quality Yin Attribute materials containing the aura of death are still too rare.’

Anton suddenly thought of the Nether Abyss Plane.

That place should have plenty of materials suitable for crafting Ghost General Level, or even Ghost King Level, Shadow Soldiers.

Shaking his head, Anton reined in his wandering thoughts.

His purpose in crafting the Shadow Soldiers was to prepare for an assault on the Red Blood Fertile Soil.

Wandering Soul Level and Fierce Ghost Level Shadow Soldiers would be more than enough to deal with those subterranean races.

Gathering his thoughts, Anton recalled the roomful of Shadow Soldiers into the Soul-Gathering Banner.

He then compiled the crafting method for Wandering Soul Level Shadow Soldiers into a manual, intending to post it in the Meeting Hall for the disciples to handle production.

As for the Fierce Ghost Level Shadow Soldiers, once he had organized the crafting method, he would entrust it to Eleanor.

After all, the disciples already struggled to craft the Five Camp Divine Soldiers. Expecting them to craft Golden Tier Shadow Soldiers would be asking the impossible.

After that, Anton would also need to leave Taichu City for a time.

He had spent about a year cultivating beneath the Eternal Tree, using an Elemental Origin Plane Rift of the Wind Element, and had successfully integrated the Wood Element Law into his embryonic True Seal.

After that, he had immediately traveled to the Netherworld Sea Trench. There, in its depths, he opened an Elemental Origin Plane Rift of the Water Element. It took him a little over a year to successfully use the power of the Water Element and integrate the Water Element Law into his embryonic True Seal.

At this point, three of the Five Elements Laws had been integrated, leaving only the Fire and Metal Element Laws.

As for a suitable location to open an Elemental Origin Plane of the Fire Element, Anton already had a few places in mind.

He planned to investigate each of them and resolve the integration of the Fire Element Law on-site.

Only then would he move on to integrating the Metal Element Law.

It was worth mentioning that the hundred-odd Giant Dragons Anton had previously spared had already established a lair deep within the Netherworld Sea Trench and settled in.

The environment there was harsh—the seawater was bone-chillingly cold and the pressure was great enough to crush steel—but for the thick-hided Dragon Race, it was not so extreme as to be unsurvivable.

At worst, their living conditions were just a bit grim.

During this time, a few Giant Dragons, unable to endure their captive lives, did attempt to escape the Netherworld Sea Trench.

But as soon as they left the confines of the trench, they were caught by the Guardian Divine General stationed there and killed on the spot.

After a few such object lessons, the Giant Dragons finally abandoned their fantasies and obediently resigned themselves to living in the Netherworld Sea Trench.

Once every year, the Silver Moon Clan would send people to the Netherworld Sea Trench to collect the materials the Giant Dragons "voluntarily" handed over.

Dragon Scales, Dragon Blood, dragon hides... These materials, priceless in the outside world, had now become a stable source of income for the Silver Moon Clan.

Thanks to this, the Giant Dragons finally got a taste of their own medicine, experiencing what the various races they once exploited had felt for so long.

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