Foster, standing in the centre of a vast open space, observed the bodies of the ancient woodland elves lined up in a row. They deserved more than a simple burial.
They would become the foundations of a new era.
Giovanni and Köflik waited in silence, sensing the importance of the moment.
Foster took a deep breath. Everything had to be perfect.
Foster had immersed himself in ancient treatises on elven military strategy and had even consulted Köflik on the subject. He knew the principles of defensive terrain, the logistics of living fortresses and asymmetrical warfare.
Foster stood there, observing the immense space where he had gathered the 156 bodies of the fallen woodland elves. The silence was heavy. Each corpse represented a life cut short, a brother or sister taken by war.
But today, they would not be forgotten.
They would become the roots of a new future.
Foster couldn't just build a wild forest.
It had to be a weapon.
