Onor walked onto the beach, the Knight Commander standing on Portsmouth Beach felt like he was dreaming. Based on intelligence and the elves’ testimonies, from their isolated island to here took about two months westward, whereas to Malin, it was just the distance of a long-range precise teleportation channel. "Look at this world, Onor, my old friend." Emil walked beside Onor, gazing at the fleet stranded by the sea, "Before the Great Catastrophe, our predecessors conquered the seas, the mountains, and even the gravity that once bound us." "But because of the madmen and zealots among them, everything was destroyed." Onor said, the anger in his heart could only turn into a long sigh at last. "Onor, Emil, let’s get to the camp." Over there, big cat Konsair waved at them. Onor waved back to his cat-church friend, "Let’s go, Emil. It’s useless to lament over those broken ships here, let’s head to the camp and rest for a bit." "Alright." Onor and his old friend approached the camp and saw that it was indeed an elf-established camp. If it were a human camp, the surrounding woods would have been cut down by now, but here, grand trees still stood tall, with suspension bridges and watchtowers between trunks. The camp’s fence was a naturally forming wooden wall, using large trees as nodes. Onor could tell that at least half of these trees were war trees. This woodland looked peaceful but must have been like a nightmare forest in the early years - the elves seemingly put significant effort into transforming this area, and now, life is the main theme of this forest. Following the companions into the camp, they saw King Gold Oak conversing with the elves inside, Onor could understand Elvish, but needed the speaker to slow down, unlike the rapid-fire-like delivery of these two. Then they saw Prince Malin, who went over to shake hands with the camp leader, showing off his polished High Elvish. "If it were anyone else, I bet the elf would say to our instructors, ’Your Elvish is good, upright ape.’" Emil beside Onor remarked sarcastically—with honesty, they’ve been mocked quite a bit in the same way by their elf instructors before as well. The mockery between the two commanders was light, but maybe loud enough for Prince Malin, as Prince Malin turned his head over there and smiled at them. The two commanders displayed well-behaved expressions and lowered their heads—others might not know, but they knew all too well what Malin’s ears represented. Mentioning elves, never mind a smile, even if he reached out and hit them, this wouldn’t raise an issue anywhere. After all, Prince Malin did have elf blood in him, indeed. Diverting his attention from the two commanders, Malin looked at King Gold Oak in front of him. These elves were indeed thoughtful in choosing this campsite; it wasn’t far from the beach. From what could be discerned at the dock, the elf strike team seemed to have two northern advance routes, one by land, naturally accessible everywhere, and another through Chesapeake Bay into Old Washington. Both routes had pros and cons, the land route’s advantage was freedom, unlike the waterway, if encountering some giant aquatic different kind, there would be no escape into the sky or the ground. However, the land route had its issues - too many dangers, any different kind might be an extinction engine restarting, nobody knew what the outcome would be this time. The good news was that the Portsmouth area had been thoroughly cleaned by the elf rangers, now this was a city with elf activity traces, Lin Jing everywhere in the city. These small elves were elf-tamed spirit creatures, very small individually but loyal and reliable. They managed the city, marking anyone who entered the city. It could be said that if any different kind entered Portsmouth, before it even considered going east or west, Lin Jing had already reported its location to the elves. Today was no different, according to the Lin Jing, some goblins entered the city, about thirty of them, in a park ruin east of the city. They had noticed Lin Jing’s plantation there and were tearing plants apart to shreds, seemingly wanting to establish a lair there. Lin Jing sent the information over, the camp leader was ready to assemble the team to skin those goblins. Malin decided to go see for himself—after all, these were North American goblins, it was unknown if there were any differences in appearance or other aspects. As for Lin Jing, similar to tiny fairies with wings, roughly 10 centimeters on average in height, possessing invisibility, and only someone as strong as Malin could see them directly. Hearing that Malin was going to take a look, the leader immediately disbanded the team he had just assembled—his lineup of over twenty rangers combined didn’t compare to the strength of the two Legendary Elf Archers Malin had brought. These twins from Thainan, now in anti-stab and ghillie suits, with 10mm semi-automatic rifles, transformed the era into a verb, were appointed by Malin to accompany him into the city, joined by the leader and another five rangers—he knew the paths, at least when the goblins ran, they could give chase efficiently.