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Building materials of wood were banned, and fire sources were strictly prohibited. The Forest Elves relied solely on their manpower to construct this magnificent white castle, one that rivaled the grandest of head of state residences across the continent. In a place where nature was revered and the only structures allowed were simple tents, the ruler of White Bone Castle stood above all others.

After all, so-called privilege was manifested through being able to do what ordinary people weren’t allowed to do.

In the past, this privilege was extended to the supreme ruler, who had the support of the hunting tribes, forest druids, and tree spirits. After all, although the Holy Tree Duke was the supreme ruler of the entire Ravenwood Forest in name, this position was only a spokesperson elected by the various factions in Emerald Province.

But all that changed with the arrival of one woman.

Floral Kane was the first ruler in Ravenwood’s history to not inherit the title of Father of the Wild. She was selected as the incarnation of the Matriarch and was to marry the next Father of the Wild, but on the night of her divine matrimony, she challenged the chosen Father of the Wild to a duel. After defeating him, she declared herself the new Holy Tree Duke.

Rejected by the various factions in Ravenwood, Floral used her strength to take what was rightfully hers. She started a war, turning the Emerald Province upside down, and forcing the factions to submit to her rule.

“Kneel and pay homage to Lady Floral’s glory. No matter if you are the leaders of the various tribes or the priests serving the Matriarch, or even the tree spirits who have obtained wisdom, kowtow under Lady Floral’s glory in this hall. Thank her for her benevolence and be grateful for her rule. Ravenwood’s fate is now in her hands, and prosperity or destruction are at her whim. Therefore, kowtow and express gratitude from the soul. Praise her, all the gathered descendants of this forest,” declared the clerk with a wolf tattoo on his face, as he held the list of names.

Behind him, the fearsome woman from Ravenwood languidly sat upon the Withering Throne, made from a mixture of deadwood and new branches. She looked down upon the subjects kneeling before her with boredom.

No one dared to look up at the woman as she silently gazed upon the immense crowd in front of her.

Eventually, she raised her hand slightly, indicating it was sufficient. The clerk promptly announced, “Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace. Dispense with the formalities.”

With those words, the venue was filled with a sense of relief.

“Your Grace, we thank you for your grace.”

The crowd, including a few glowing green tree spirits, rose to their feet in unison.

The clerk checking the name list frowned as he noticed a few individuals display angry and even hateful expressions as they stood up. It was as if these human customs had insulted their dignity.

Though the expressions vanished quickly, the clerk saw them clearly.

He thought to himself, These ungrateful things…

The audacity to show such disrespect in front of the Withering Throne and Lady Floral was insulting to her supreme glory. However, he knew he couldn’t lose his temper. Lady Floral detested any distractions during meetings that could slow down the progress of resolving the matter at hand.

So, the clerk silently memorized the names of those disrespectful individuals and continued, “You may submit your requests in order, but keep in mind that you only have the right to request. Whether your requests are recognized is at the discretion of the mistress of the Withering Throne. And after the meeting, do not overstep your boundaries and make final judgment on behalf of the duke, or you will face the same fate as Hobien Ebony.”

The entire hall fell into a restless silence as if the only sound was that of cockroaches crawling in a clean kitchen.

Finally, an old man, who looked severely treeified and had difficulty walking, stood up shakily and said, “There is a request to open an Eighth Order cathedral in Holy Tree City. Lady Floral, please reconsider. The protection of the citizens by the Matriarch has weakened over time. If we welcome another pagan god at this time, it will bring the wrath of the Matriarch again.”

Floral, sitting on the Withering Throne with a black veil hiding her face, said nothing. She didn’t even look at the wooden elder who could go still at any moment.

The answer came from the clerk holding the name list.

“Lord Enso Oak, I must remind you that the free conversion of Forest Elves to the Holy Spirit’s faith is the empire’s basic national policy. The opening of the Eighth Holy Spirit’s shrine has been decided for years now. Today, we are discussing matters with an uncertain future. Do not waste our time,” the clerk with the wolf tattoo on his face spoke with anger in his voice.

Seeing that the one sitting on the throne didn’t say anything, the elder named Oak continued, “Then, what about Holy Tree City, no, all the residents of Ravenwood? How will we feed millions without the Matriarch’s blessing? Garet Wolfspeak, who do you believe is responsible for this mess? If only you had succeeded in obtaining the benefits we deserved at the Senate meeting, we wouldn’t be in this dire situation now.”

The empire was still demanding that Emerald Province produce wine at the same level as previous years, even though it was the Year of Starvation. As a result, 40% of Ravenwood’s arable land was planted with grapes in early spring. But the spread of the blight was making the Forest Elves’ struggle for survival more pressing by the day.

Emerald Province had always been relatively unscathed by the Year of Starvation, thanks to the blessing of the World Tree. But since the Holy Tree Duke took office, the entire Ravenwood Forest had been slowly losing the Holy Tree Matriarch’s blessing.

These two factors combined were causing a food crisis in one of the most fertile lands on the continent.

“The empire promised to develop magical education in Emerald Province, but only if we meet their wine production order. We’ve relied too much on the Holy Tree Matriarch’s blessings, instead of taking control of our own fate…”

“And what will you say to those who will die of starvation in the future?”

The clerk and the elder continued to argue, and then…

“Silence.”

Their argument was interrupted by a crisp, porcelain-like voice. Although it wasn’t loud, it immediately made the two arguing stop. They turned to the speaker, bowing respectfully.

“Lady Floral…”

The woman sitting on the Withering Throne finally spoke.

“Enso Oak, I’ll say this one final time. No matter how many Holy Spirit shrines we build, it will not affect the World Tree’s blessing on our race. The weakening of the blessing is due to the worsening of the disaster during the Year of Starvation, not because of the shrines,” Floral said in an unchanging tone.

The elder, Enso, subconsciously tried to object, “But, my lady, that has never happened before…”

“Do you not understand the meaning of ‘one final time’? Do you want me to repeat myself?”

“…By your will.”

Enso lowered his head and retreated into the crowd, his withered hands clutching his robe tightly.

He knew that if she had to repeat herself, she would use her magical medium.

Witch, b*tch, liar… Enso muttered in his heart.

Despite what Floral said, Enso and all the other forest druids could sense that the Matriarch’s strength was waning since Floral took office.

Seeing that the matter had temporarily been resolved, the clerk named Garet continued expressionlessly, “Next.”

The commander of the Wild Hunt stepped forward, dropping to one knee in respect.

“Your Grace, we have captured the Blind Sisters member, as requested. And, there’s a human female with them who we suspect to be an executor of the Eighth Order, based on her attire.”

“This is not important enough to be discussed in this meeting. Since you’ve already controlled the situation, let’s move on…” the clerk said with a frown.

The commander shook his head and interrupted, “I apologize, but the situation is not under control. This woman suspected to be an Eighth Order executor is extremely powerful. She only agreed to come back with us after defeating two of our Wild Hunt troops and two Forest Druids.”

“Cooperation? What cooperation?” Floral asked in confusion from her throne.

“Here’s the thing. They were caught up in a case in the Canopy Temple where the empire’s ambassador was accused of using undead spells to kill a Forest Elf. They have requested a thorough investigation of this case.”