Jared went quiet after hearing that.
He remembered his own years cultivating in the Ethereal Realm. Back then, whenever he needed to break through, he had gone into the deep mountains too, gathering spirit herbs and cutting heartwood to use for pill refinement and formations.
At the time, he had treated all of it as ordinary resources. Take what was there. Use what he needed. Nothing more to think about. Only now, standing on the other side of it, did the weight of it come clear. To the Sylvan Kin, that kind of thing was a wound that cut deep.
"So the Sylvan Kin hate the human race," Jared said slowly.
"Hate doesn't even cover it..." Nathaniel gave a bitter smile. "It's the kind of hatred that's sunk into the marrow. An old grudge that's lasted since ancient times..."
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