The battlefield was silent, save for the distant crackling of flames and the faint rustling of leaves.

You lay motionless, your body riddled with spears, arrows, and bullets. Blood soaked your once-proud uniform, and your breathing was shallow. You had fought until the last moment, facing overwhelming numbers with unwavering resolve. But even the strongest had their limits.

A group of Moon Elf warriors, clad in silver armor, moved cautiously through the battlefield. Their leader, a swift and graceful scout, knelt beside you, eyes widening in shock.

"This one is still alive!" she called out.

Another warrior stepped forward, recognizing the insignia on your bloodstained armor. "He’s not one of our enemies… He’s the human warlord they spoke of."

"Then we take him," the scout said firmly. "Lady Miya must decide his fate."

With great care, they lifted your battered body and carried you through the dense woods, moving swiftly yet silently. The journey was long, but eventually, they arrived at the Moonlit Sanctuary, the hidden refuge of the Moon Elves.

Inside a sacred chamber, Miya, the Moonlight Archer, stood before a glowing pool of water. She turned as her warriors entered, their expressions grave.

"We found him on the battlefield," one of them reported, laying you down before her. "He’s badly wounded… but he still breathes."

Miya stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning your unconscious form. Your body bore the marks of countless battles, yet you had survived wounds that would have killed any other warrior. She could feel an aura of strength around you—a will that refused to break.

She knelt beside you, placing a hand over your chest. A faint glow emitted from her fingertips as she whispered an ancient Moon Elf incantation. "Rest now, warrior."