Though Aisala's declaration was over, the uproar across the Central Continent had not subsided.
Quite the opposite, an even more tense and subtle undercurrent began to swirl madly, with the Silver Moon Highlands as its epicenter.
After an initial three-day observation period, the factions that had arrived early in the vicinity of the Silver Moon Highlands began to make their moves.
Their stances shifted rapidly in the face of Aisala's unfathomably vast aura.
「On the morning of the third day after the ascension declaration.」
In the plaza of the Silver Moon Council, vines hung from the surrounding, towering Ancient War Trees, and a crisp floral fragrance filled the air.
The Elf artisans had clearly spent the last three days meticulously decorating the space, adding a touch of solemnity without sacrificing the Elf Race's characteristic elegance.
