Kerry was the first to climb upward, as if he didn't have to touch the tree at all, and he stopped at the first horizontal branch and looked down, which was about thirty feet above the ground.

The lich pondered what he should do—if it was him, no doubt he had prepared the flying spell, but what would he do if it was another soul who controlled the body? he would climb up like Kerryben, instead of using spells, the former undead said to himself.

The gray leather cloak was abandoned in a bush of lush raspberries that had already produced coveted little red fruits, and the lich plucked one and put it in his mouth, and was surprised to find that its taste was a little nostalgic, and when he was a weak and young man, he used to fill his stomach with the little fruits that fell inadvertently from the birds and hedgers in the corner of the courtyard— He was whipped for this, but this only made him impressed by the sweet, sour berry, which faded into a loss of taste and memory years after he transformed into a lich.

Now he can taste it again.

The lich chewed on the raspberry and struggled to climb up, Kerryburn's deepening smile indicated that he had chosen the right thing to do, and the elf continued upward, he followed closely behind, the squirrels squeaked at them, and the Ranger leisurely greeted them, promising to bring them plates of creamy mushrooms as compensation for disturbing their rest.

At the same time at Partridge Hill, the Ranger climbed to the top of the Silvercrown Tree before stopping, and it was now dusk that the elves called the Shimmer Hour, and the galaxy was faintly visible, but the light could still be called bright.

The light didn't just come from the heavens, it came from their feet— From below, every leaf you see is dark black, with only a hint of green at the tip, but when you look down, the silver-crowned forest presents layers of fine glitter like silver, which cascades down from the summit of the Dragon's Back Mountains, spreading and spreading over the backbone, chest and belly of the latter, and it is difficult to find its edge even for the strongest eagle vulture, like the snowfield at the beginning of the morning sun, and like the sea illuminated by the stars.

The Lich was not as dull and ignorant as the other soul in the Sea of Knowledge, he knew the Silvercrown Jungle from books and the memories of the dead, but was truly in it—for the first time—with his fingers, his eyes, his heart...... There were brief but rare blank passages in his delicate scroll of thoughts, the elven part of his veins that was making him weak and dull, stupid and ridiculous, and he wanted to stop but couldn't.

"This is the Silvercrown Forest. Kerribben whispered, "The home of every elf and half-elf." ”

- yes, the lich thought, though the half-elves could only take shelter from the rain under the eaves for a while - the familiar sting brought him back to his senses, and the undead mocked everything beneath their shells.

Kerry didn't notice anything unusual, he plucked a clump of leaves from the silvercrown tree, put it in his hand and rubbed it gently, and then spread his hands out: "Look." He said.

His palms shimmered like a thin frost.

The caster placed his finger in the other leaf, he repeated the elf's movements, and in addition to touching, he put it in his mouth and tasted it.

"It's silver. He said.

"The roots of the silver-crowned tree are more developed than its stems, and you can sometimes see them up to five hundred feet deep, and they are able to suck up metals from soil and rocks. "At our feet," said Kerryben, "rivers of silver flow through the dark rocks, and Mithril and Adamantite are like the gravel and swimming fish in the rivers, and the thin nets that drift with the currents are the roots of the silvercrown tree." ”

"So beautiful, so rich," whispered the lich, "everyone?" or just me?"

"Every half-elf is brought here when they reach adulthood," Kerribben said, "and although you didn't grow up in Grey Ridge, I think you have the right to do the same." ”

"Don't you worry that someone will be greedy or angry because of this?" asked the lich, "not because you are not smart enough, not because you are not strong enough, not because you have committed a mistake or a crime, but because you have blood in your body that does not belong to the elves, you must be excluded, sixty years is so long for a man, but so short for a half-elf, you bring a bowl of honey to the thirsty man, but he is only allowed to take a small sip." ”

"But that's all we can do for you. "Although I know that sometimes it can be torture. ”

The lich didn't ask the elves why they didn't allow the half-elves to enter the jungle, not even the otherworldly soul who only knew a little bit about the world, you can never imagine how much such a huge and seemingly inexhaustible treasure house would make those dark and selfish ** expand uncontrollably, except for the elves, no one can believe that they can face such a great temptation and remain unwavering for thousands of years.

On several occasions, as an evil man, the Lich would secretly speculate whether the gods who created this world had given the Silver Crown Forest to a race that could barely find its weaknesses and dark sides.

Then they did not speak, and the lich rarely indulged himself in useless, meaningless scenery and idle laziness, until the last warm breeze of the day departed, and the broad river, hidden by the sun-covered foliage of the silvercrown tree, flickered between the countless voids— The twigs that fell into the river were washed away by the turbulent current, leaving only tiny grains of silver, suspended in the water, carried all the way down, deposited on the tranquil riverbed of the Grey Ridge, which you would not notice when you were close to it, but only when you stood on a high place and looked down to discover this beautiful secret.

Starlight River.

The former undead decided to keep their memories of today for a while, a year, or two years.

After Kerribben left, the elf who spent the most time with Cremar was probably Ilda, who enthusiastically took the dark-haired half-elf to try out every job and play in Grey Ridge. She also taught Cremar archery, knitting, catching spiders and rabbits, and how to dance under the stars.

They danced under the stars, accompanied by harps, snare drums, flutes, and clarinets made of reeds, and in the riverbanks and woodlands blessed by the starlight and the quiet of the night, Cremar saw almost every elf and half-elf who lived and worked in Grey Ridge, except for Fenway. He hadn't left his room since he had gotten the box of dangerous spell materials, his face had grown darker and thinner, and only a few times would he stand on the circular corridor clinging to the guardrail, searching for his lover, and he would always see Cremar, when he saw Ilda.

The Otherworldly Soul didn't like Fenway, he liked Ilda, he remembered that in his world, he had no siblings, and he had wanted a sister - Ilda was so similar to his imaginary sister, or more precisely, better than that—she was beautiful and intelligent, gentle and open-minded, strong and brave, resolute and fearless, she carefully watched over and guided the young spellcaster, answered his every question, and extended her hand in time for him to need help.

But she is occasionally controlled by negative emotions, when Fenway argues with her or simply rejects her.

No matter what world it is, comforting others is not something that souls from other worlds are good at, and after careful consideration, he brought a small bunch of fresh dodder seeds to the female elf, shaped like a bell, and only a dozen or so flowers the size of a fingertip were huddled together in a lively manner, translucent, milky white with emerald green petals wrapped around golden stamens, and the stems covered with fine hairs were like tangled thick wool threads.

"It's beautiful," Ilda said with a smile, "what do you want in exchange?"

"It's not for exchange," Cremar said earnestly, "for you, do you like it?"

Then he saw Ilda give a subtle and peculiar smile, "So, it's a gift?" she asked.

Yes, the otherworldly soul was almost about to answer that, but he noticed that Ilda's expression had changed, a little far from being happy, and if you tried to describe it, it would be "I see the front of your pants open, but you're still there pretending to be hello, kitty, I'm going to tell you, but I'm sorry, and I don't want to spoil you, after all, you're trying to make me happy, and now you're really amusing me, but I know you're definitely not trying to use this method, I really don't want to embarrass you, let me think about what I should do?"

- Did you forget to tell me anything again?, the otherworldly soul asked warily.

- What, the lich said cheerfully, do you mean the conclusive fact that in the elves' perception only blood relatives and beloved lovers can receive gifts?

Oh my God! the otherworldly soul screamed, I didn't want it...... Well...... Think...... Want...... Want......

The lich laughed at him, do you know what color you are now, pink, my dear, this is the first time I've seen such a lovely pink.

- But she invited me to bread and sugar!

- Didn't you see that she used your pyroxene powder too?

——...... Well, anyway, what do I do next?

- Protect the body, said the lich.

If the Soul of the Other World didn't understand the meaning of this sentence at first, then he understood it anymore when he was thrown into the air by Fenway's throwing orb.

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