"Indeed, they've come, after seven hundred years." The Prophet's voice was deep and hoarse, and the expressions of the other Water Elves were also filled with sorrow and complexity, but after a moment of silence, Sali suddenly flipped her hand, and the water gathered, transforming into an ice-blue long spear. She gripped it with both hands and made a plea to the Prophet.
"Prophet, please allow me to fight!"
The stature of Sali was naturally noble. Gorn and the others had also learned in the past two days that in the Elf Tribe, skills in archery and swordsmanship were quite common, with the only difference being the essence and strength of techniques. However, spells... only the purebloods of each clan possessed the ability to master them.
Like Sali, for instance, who was of the Royal Family of the Water Elf Clan.
