The Eternal Messenger stared at everything before him, and suddenly thought, if his Divine Power were restored, and he could freeze this moment into eternity, then maybe it could fundamentally reverse the Primeval Elves' desire.
Unfortunately, his Divine Power had not yet recovered, which made the Eternal Messenger vaguely irritable.
"But now, our job is to knock out all the Elves, keeping them awake probably won't work, better to use a blessing to knock them all out."
However, the Moss Stone Elf felt he must have already found the graveyard.
"Before knocking them out, first I have to die here, please help me dig a grave, my legs have melted, I can't walk anymore."
The Moss Stone Elf lay down, if he fell here, the distorted memory would be fixed... at least it might slow down the transmission of the "disaster information," and perhaps allow the Elf Clan to live a few thousand more years.
Hey, wait!
"What's that?"
