Hill turned his head and asked the white wolf standing beside him, "There are so many big trees here. If they turn into Treants, will it work?"
"Here, everything is quite suppressive to the Magical Beasts and plants other than the master," said the white wolf curiously. "They find it hard to awaken consciousness. If you can manage it, go ahead! I won't be coming back anyway."
Hill nodded; he thought the same.
No matter how strong, one wouldn't cherish a place that confined them for ten thousand years. This wolf god was already unimaginably rational.
Probably because Magical Beasts can sleep for long periods, if it were humans, they would have gone mad long ago.
The Wood Elemental Spirit, having received permission, happily pounced into the tall woods.
Hill also sat and looked at the moon overhead.
In this secluded space, who knows how, only the moon and the sun persisted.
Perhaps it was the lake water and the wolf god who used all their willpower to preserve their only kin.
