Batana straightened herself up, her strength restored, and first checked the position where

the lich had been. The black fire from the abyss of hell was a powerful force to destroy

everything, and the lich now had not a scrap of bone left but a dark, scorched mark on the

ground.

The dark elf searched the cave and found a runestone in the farthest corner, as the Spider

goddess had told her. Mistress Batana crouched down and carefully pushed away the floating

earth around the runestone, then blew the dust away with her mouth, not daring to touch the

stone itself. Sweat trickled down from her forehead to the dry floor of the cave and quickly

seeped into the crevices.

After a long time, the mother finally dug the whole runestone out of the ground. It was no

more than an egg-shaped stone as long as a middle finger. It looked ordinary, but underneath

it, there was a small box tightly connected. Batana learned from the goddess that if anyone

touched the runestone, the casket underneath would be transported to another place.

This was the lich's casket, the guarantee that it could connect with the world of the dead and

draw power from it, and with this casket the lich could come back to life indefinitely. Although

the Mother believed that the skeleton would not reappear under the influence of the black

fire, the Oracle of the Spider Goddess made it clear that the Lich's casket must be destroyed,

and the oracle specified exactly where the casket was located.

Looking at the box burnt to ashes by the black torches, Mistress Batana stood upright as if

struck by lightning. Her whole body was now full of pleasure. The pleasure came from her

spiritual connection to the goddess, the pleasure from the goddess's pleasure. When the dark

elf sacrifices are done, they can feel this feeling.

It is a thrill that transcends all sensory entertainment and rises from the depths of your heart,

then spreads to every inch of your skin and fills every pore. For a moment, the priests affected

by this sensation forget everything around them, and it is as if all they have in mind is the

comfort of the goddess's gentle murmur, and all they have to listen to; But at the same time,

they seem to be experiencing everything in the world, everything that can bring them joy. Do

you want power? In this feeling you are the king of the whole earth! Do you want to be strong?

Feel that you are the master of all power! Want to have the worship of the world? The feeling

that everything is at your feet, that they kneel before you, that they kiss your toes, that they

cry your name, that they want to trade their whole life, their all for the attention you give them

-- if only for a moment.

No matter how much you have accomplished here on Earth, it will all fall away in the face of

this joy. It is higher than you are. It is not an earthly power. It comes from God, freeing your

deepest desires to burn, to shine, to heat, and to consume your soul.

You are weak but full of hope, you are infatuated but awake, you know it is an illusion, but

you would rather give up everything to embrace it as eternity.

Batana has completed the task of the Spider Goddess countless times in her life, and has

received this reward many times, but she is still passionate about the reward. Each time she

tastes it, it feels different, it never repeats, it never bores her. But today's reward came with

such ferocity and persistence that it seemed like the wildest indulgence before the end of the

world, without end, without limit, without pause. Batana stretched her body outward, all her

muscles straining, trembling slightly with overexertion, but she felt no discomfort, she felt that

her soul was about to break out of her body, she was about to melt into the world of

perception and collapse completely.

Finally, this strong stimulation stopped, and the mother collapsed as if she had been indulging

in sex for many days. Her clothes all over her body were as if they had been drenched in rain,

which had already been soaked with sweat. She now felt unusually energetic, but her body

was not listening to her. Those muscles and nerves were still aftertasting the excitement they

had just had, as if they did not want to return to the master mother's control. But Batana knew

that she had to use this power in her body quickly. It was a power that the spider goddess

had given her. It was a great power. With the goddess's help, she had the power to quickly

restore her family's power, at least to resurrect some of the Dark Elves' elite troops.

As she gently recites a mantra, a white mist wafts from her hand toward the pile of fallen dark

elves. The white mist made the mother wail in pain, and the pain, torn like childbirth, drained

the Drow of her strength. Batana would have died if she had not been still immersed in the

afterglow of the extreme pleasure she had just experienced.

But even with this torment, the dark fairy mothers took great delight in doing the spider

goddess's bidding. They were like addictions, unable to quit, unable to escape, unable to

forget, never satisfied.

The elite troops of the Dark elves are covered in white mist, and their souls are slowly returning

from the world of death at the command of the Spider Goddess. In a few moments, the core

of the First Family will be restored -- although it will take them a long time to recover fully,

but as long as the core is still there, None of the other families would have the guts to plot

against the Chapmans. Batana had the confidence.

One thing she noticed, however, was that part of the white mist was drifting towards the

unconscious mage, slowly climbing up and covering him as well. This was a great surprise to

the mother, for the white mist obeyed only the orders of the spider goddess. Did the goddess

want the sorcerer to live?

In fact, this was mainly due to Vincent's left hand starting to work. Recently prodded by the

Lich, the Golden Arm felt so threatened that it forcibly activated its own inner magic array to

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protect its master and avoid its own destruction. Although it has taken a great deal of magical

energy from Vincent, it will require much more power to fully restore it. And the magic that

Mother has just used is best choice."Left Hand" absorbs the white mist while healing its owner.

Batana finally regained her composure and looked at the dark elves who had not been

covered by the white mist, some unknown white spider goddess. Had her own God really

chosen to abandon her people rather than resurrect the dark-skinned and white-haired

princes of the Earth, and instead devote her power to healing this surface human? Were the

dead warriors less important than this lowly male?

Batana had a lot of questions, but she was afraid to ask the spider goddess now. The prize

just now shows that the spider goddess has been very satisfied with the completion of the

task, and will bless the first family, and at this time to ask the goddess questions, it is likely to

make the goddess feel disgusted, and it is likely to be self-defeating.

She had to accept this fact for the time being, and let the human mage live a little longer.

Shelley was the first to wake up. With the lich gone, there was nothing left of the magic. She

had not suffered any physical trauma in the first place, so she soon woke up. Shelley stood in

front of her mother and explained exactly what had happened, how the lich had been struck

down. But Shelley was not a sorcerer, and she did not know all the details. But the line that

"the consultant mage's spell caused an explosion, and the lich was no longer able to compete

with the sorcery of the Lord Mother, and thus fell" was quite to Batana's taste. She was

outwardly indifferent, but inwardly she was secretly pleased. Indeed, the Lich was strong

enough as an adversary.

While the two Drow women were talking, Vincent woke up. He staggered to his feet and

moved his hands and feet, looking a little confused.

The mother secretly scolded in her heart: "If not for the spider goddess favor, you would have

become a dead body!"

Shelley did not say that Zeena had tried to murder her, but her mother's suspicion was

aroused by Zeena's surprise as she regained her strength. Looking at the blue mark on her

forehead, she glanced at the familiar shape and immediately thought of Shelley's sword.

Something must have happened between her two daughters.

But the task now is not a civil war between the children, but a quick and quiet return to the

fortress of Prudence City with the remaining strength of the family, and a speedy rest and

recovery. Fortunately, none of the family sacrifices have abated, but two Dark Elf mages have

died and half of the elite core warriors have been turned into corpses, only to be resurrected

as undead. The average low-level soldier is basically exhausted, and the mercenaries are all

destroyed, which saves a small commission.

Vincent looked at the dark elves in front of him, rising one by one from their lifeless state, and

soon regained their vitality. He had only read about it in some texts, and it was said that it

was a powerful form of mass resurrection, which could only be used by direct divine power.

However, if Batana was able to direct the power of the abyss, it was not impossible that a

large number of dark elves could be raised by the power of the gods. But Vincent could not

understand how he had recovered in such a short time. What's more, his left hand has

changed a certain way. What did this change bring? But of all the strange things, the most

puzzling to Vincent was the fact that he blurted out the words aloud in two unknown

languages.

It seemed that he had organized his thoughts well.

The mage estimates the loss of the Dark Elf family, estimating that they will not recover for

some time. Of course, with the strength of Mother Batana herself and all the sacrifices that

have survived, this is a force that the other houses cannot ignore. However, the extreme

shortage of warriors will leave the house in a position to do all kinds of operations, and

expansion will be very difficult. Although Batana has doubts about the power of the mage

during this operation, a powerful mage is an important help in the current environment.

Vincent's position as an advisor will be more secure, and the Mother will have to give him

greater authority.

The magic scroll in the Black Crystal Tower will be a nice reward.

The priests of the Dark Elves began to work hard to create living zombies out of unresurrected

warriors. These zombies, also known as bound souls, retained some of the powers they had

before they died, but became emotionless, unafraid of injury, and without fear. As long as

they use their right hand, it is also a force to be reckoned with. But they will become no

intelligence, can only mechanically execute orders, can not be competent for complex work.

Vincent has no interest in watching such an evil ritual. Only the Drow of the Underdark would

use such a method to create the undead without any scruple. He saw his mother's look and

left nicely -- a look that clearly said, "Secret technology, no visitors."

As he looked around the lich's cave, he wondered where the team of Pioneers had gone. He

could see the footprints of their entrance, but no trace of their subsequent arrival. With his

penetrating eye, Vincent scanned around as hard as he could, hoping to see through the thick

rock face.

After the struggle, the mage, who should have been exhausted, felt fresh, clear and able to

concentrate easily, and saw further than usual with his penetrating eyes. Just behind an

obsidian wall, nearly thirty meters from Vincent's passageway, was a lonely little room set in

stone. There is no way in or out of the room. However, Vincent could see that the adventure

team was in the room, and they were banging anxiously on the wall with their hands.

'Through the wall! Vincent waved his wand, made a hole in the obsidian wall, bowed his head

and walked in...