บท 1189: The Fateful Day

The fateful day had finally arrived—a day that would decide the future of the high elves and bring back the glory of their cherished artificial sun.

Though it had obviously dimmed over the centuries, the hope of its reignition had sparked a feverish joy across the kingdom.

The entire city was alive with celebration, awash in colors and lights, each street transformed into a testament to elven artistry and tradition.

Garlands woven from silver and gold ivy trailed from high arches, shimmering like stars in the morning sun, while enchanted crystals floated above the streets, casting soft, warm light that seemed to breathe with a life of its own.