Vincent stopped and looked at the person behind him who was blocking his progress. Priest Kubot was wearing an elf chain armor, still holding his usually decorative ceremonial hammer in his hand, looking at the mage with a smile.

"There are only two humans in this forest, you and me." Pastor Kubert said: "I really can't think of any reason why the two of us shouldn't fight side by side."

Vincent waved his staff and said: "I think, Mr. Priest, you should stay on the Holy Mountain. As far as I know, Priest Greafury , who became the officiant, held ceremonies much longer than the battle. You are too old and unfit. Fierce fighting.”

"I don't think so." Kubert said: "When I was young, I was already on the front line against evil. And my skills have not deteriorated at all." After saying that, he stroked the Greafury hanging from his neck. Holy Symbol: "And, the God of Light is with me."

"I hope it's what you said." Vincent said: "Where did your armor come from? I don't think Heather's elves will let guests like you participate in the battle."

"My elf chain armor comes from a local elf. He has a childish face but he still has to participate in the battle." Kubert adjusted the chain armor that obviously didn't fit, and tried hard to hold down his slightly protruding belly . "I couldn't watch a child die in such a battle, so I switched with him. If you average my age with his, you're still young enough, right?"

"Will the always pedantic Pastor Grefury use this method?" Vincent smiled: "But, this is the only way, I am looking forward to your ability."

"Anyway, you can't leave me here." After saying that, Kubot also took out a scroll. The golden scroll and the sun pattern carved on it indicate that this is an exquisite scroll from a temple. Priests' ability to create magical scrolls is far inferior to that of mages, but their decorations are always beautiful. In the hand of Pastor Kubert, there is nothing but a scroll of flying magic.

"Then just follow me." Vincent unfolded his flying skill: "But don't expect me to take care of you."

"Taking care of others has always been done by our Pastor Grefury ." Kubert smiled.

The two figures quickly left the Heather Holy Mountain and headed to the Broken Star Swamp . Although the battle there will not start immediately, good hunters must always guard by the exquisite traps . Without Vincent's magical power, the traps there would not be able to activate on their own. If the undead easily passed through the ambush that had been painstakingly laid, the security of the elven kingdom would become precarious.

Since the war launched by the Great Arcanist did not affect the Elf Kingdom, most of the residents here have long been accustomed to a peaceful life. The elves who are obsessed with poetry and art have somewhat degraded their skills. Only a handful of residents still maintain the fighting traditions of the past, but their numbers are not enough to change the general trend of the war.

The last attack by the undead fully highlighted this shortcoming of the Salantir elves. The response in battle was slow, and the elves, who were always known for their agility, were unexpectedly attacked first by the undead creatures, losing the initiative immediately. Although they eventually drove away the undead troops, they also paid heavy losses.

The archdruid mobilized manpower in time and used stories of past elven warriors to boost morale. Day and night after the first battle, the bards in the small theater always sang songs from long ago: while using elegy to appease everyone's pain, while using war songs to inspire the elves to fight that they had not had in a long time.

So this time, the trained elves are obviously better at fighting than before. The bloodline of heroic ancestors from thousands of years ago has revived their superb skills, and the bows and arrows in their hands can always hit the most vital parts of the enemy.

The attacking vampires and ghosts surged up like a sea. They did not need strict organization, and they were even less likely to obey any tactical orders. Once they see living flesh and blood, only hunger, thirst and hatred remain in the eyes of these undead. How can they obey the so-called commands? The beautiful memories they once had when they were alive have long since faded away, and all that remains with them is all the pain and injustice they have experienced throughout their lives, as well as the torture of never being able to sleep well.

The way to pass on pain is to share it with others. This sentence has another way of expression in the world of the undead. You can only tear the living creatures in front of you apart with your own hands, torture them in the most painful way, and finally strangle them, so that they can also feel the coldness brought by death. This is the only pleasure of the undead, and the only way to soothe the twisted souls of undead monsters. The way. Driven by this power, the bows and arrows that could easily kill people were reduced to a slight obstacle on the way forward. As long as they did not touch the water of the Erutalon River under their feet, these ghosts would not stop because of the bravery of the elves. go ahead.

"Be careful to cover each other!" said a combat team leader. At the same time, he drew out the special arrow that had been sent to him three days ago. Different from the sharp long arrows of the elves, this weapon given to the elves by the mage Vincent has a round head, with some strange words engraved on the spherical tip. Those who are well-informed will find that it contains the language of both dwarves and drow. For the first time, the craftsmanship of the craftsmen and the magic of the dark elves were combined. If the magnanimous Elf Queen had not deliberately concealed this fact, it is estimated that no Elf warrior would choose to use such a weapon.

"I hope this kind of thing is really effective." The elf captain said as he bent his bow and nocked an arrow. Not far in front of him, a ghost floated through the layers of tree branches and flew directly over. The blurry figure was very difficult to aim, and their erratic path was also a big test for the elf archers. .

The round arrow instantly left the trembling bow string and flew toward the enemy in front of him like lightning. What surprised the elf was that the arrow shot did not make any sound of breaking through the air, and there was no "whoosh" sound as fast as a meteor. The huge arrow flew over quietly, like the assassin's blade of the most superb assassin .

This is also the result of the research of the drows. The mage Vincent used his amazing memory to copy the magic circle originally decorated on Shelley's sword, and transferred the part that reduced air resistance to the bow and arrow. In this way, even round arrow branches can avoid the interference of wind and remain accurate as usual.

Ghosts don't have eyes, they can't "see". Ordinary obstacles cannot prevent them from penetrating material bodies. Only the sound of activity and some magical effects will make them aware. The elves' magic bows can cause damage to them, so the ghosts also deliberately capture the sound of arrows moving in the air to avoid harm. But none of the ghosts' senses reacted to this silent attack.

The specially made bow and arrow accurately hit the ghost, and the circular arrow exploded. The magical power of this arrow disappeared instantly and turned into an ordinary weapon, and ordinary materials can penetrate the ghost's body. When the arrow reaches the inside of the transparent undead, the holy water stored in the ball spills out.

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This calculation, which is accurate to the pinnacle , was achieved by Vincent using the dwarf's manufacturing process. Gnomes who like to play little pranks have toys that delay destruction and are often used to scare unsuspecting guests. Vincent was once teased by something like Mark's, and he remembered the design method of this ball.

"The river water of Erutalon is not as lethal as the holy water of the temple." That is only for the undead who have only had external contact with the river water. Once the power of the river penetrates into the undead creature, the power that bursts out is astonishing. The ghost twisted his body in pain, trying to get rid of the endless burning, but he couldn't. A burst of white smoke emerged from its crazily deformed body, and its sharp screams made the surrounding branches vibrate as if a strong wind was blowing.

The attention of the elves and many undead creatures were attracted by the ghost, and the battle seemed to have stopped for a moment. The elf captain who fired the arrow still maintained the posture at the moment when he released the weapon, with his frozen movements and surprised expression perfectly combined.

The size of the ghost became smaller and smaller, and was finally burned away by the holy water. Except for the black dust left on the branches and the residue of flowing liquid, the immortal soul just now completely disappeared from this world.

"I didn't expect this thing to be so useful!" The elf captain took out another arrow and looked for the next ghost. These aerosol-like monsters are very difficult to deal with, and their disembodied bodies make all attacks very difficult to hit. In this respect, even cunning and powerful vampires pose less of a threat than they pose.

The other elves also drew out round special arrows and aimed at the enemy in front of them. Before the battle began, the elves were not optimistic about this strange new weapon. Only the traditional long arrows from the elf weaponsmiths could give them a sense of dependence. However, I believe that in future battles against undead creatures, this specially made weapon will become their first choice.

Seeing that the situation was not good, the vampires immediately sought cover. They hid their slender bodies behind thick tree trunks, and only dared to move their positions during the intervals between shooting arrows.

The poor ghosts still don't understand what happened. Without "vision", they never know what kind of weapon they were hit by. The elves also noticed this and aimed their special arrows at the ghost monsters. The battle seemed to have become one-sided.

"Pay attention to keeping the amount of ammunition!" The elf captain shouted loudly, while using ordinary arrows to pin the vampire to the tree. "Don't use up this stuff all at once!"

After saying that, two consecutive ordinary elf arrows pierced the vampire's eyes accurately, avoiding its tough skin and skull protection, and messing up everything left in its head.

At this time, the trees behind the vampire began to wither, as if time suddenly jumped to the autumn when all plants decline. The withered and yellow leaves were knocked off the branches under the strong momentum of the arrow. Originally thought that the evil power of the vampire caused the death of the tree, the elf captain did not expect that the big tree he relied on was also gradually aging.

He looked around and saw that many plants had also become like this. The grass under his feet seemed to have been deprived of nutrients all of a sudden and became withered and brittle. The woods behind the undead army lost their verdant vitality and were suddenly shrouded in the dark aura of death. Even the extraordinary vision that the elves are proud of cannot see what's going on there.

The team leader felt as if his neck was suddenly stuck, and both eyelids were pulled hard by the fishhook at the same time. What happened on the other side of the forest was like a collection of all the nightmares of his life, gripping his heart tightly. He tried desperately to keep breathing, but no matter how hard he panted, it seemed he couldn't satisfy the hunger in his lungs; he wanted to turn his eyes immediately, but the muscles in his neck refused to respond to his command. In his mind, a legend he had heard a long time ago suddenly appeared.

But fear seized him, gripping him without mercy.

A shadow floated over, moving slowly from behind the vampire. Unlike the ghost, it has a more distinctly human form and even retains some grayish tones. The tattered and mottled patches of color formed the shadow's "clothes," but the long, disheveled hair in front of its eyes covered its appearance.

The eyes of all the elves were attracted to it, but no one could lift the weapon in their hands. They instinctively believe that this monster is impossible to defeat. It looks so fragile, but it is extremely powerful. It was like a reflection of each elf himself, a collection of nightmares that were completely opposite to the elf behind a mirror.

"Die again! You damn thing!" The elf captain raised the bow and arrow in his hand like crazy, and bright red blood flowed from his lips down his neck. In the moment of being captured by fear, only pain and madness can vent the repression in the heart and defeat the manipulated emotions. He wanted to take action before this monster caused more damage .

A gust of wind blew through the elven dry forest without warning. The fragile yellow leaves turned into ashes, and the ghost's long hair was blown away.

No one could say for sure what they saw, but it was undoubtedly the most terrifying thing an elf could come into contact with. For a noble race with almost infinite life, the most sad thing is the death of a compatriot. But the moment their long hair was blown away, they seemed to be in direct contact with death itself.

What each elf sees is different, yet identical. The ghost seemed to suddenly become the person closest to them, either their parents; or their lover; or their beloved little baby. Then, time passed by in an instant, and those faces became older. The goddess of life no longer injected the power of survival into the souls they loved, and death suddenly came to these people.

Then Na's face became distorted and painful, and silent screams and screams drowned in thick pain climbed onto the faces of those closest to him. All the terrible sufferings, all the bad luck and misfortune that an elf could imagine in his mind reappeared on that face, and penetrated into the deepest soul of every elf present.

This feeling of despair suddenly destroyed the fighting spirit of the elves present. The equipment on their bodies suddenly became heavy, and their legs became unable to move as if they were filled with lead. Their eyes shed bitter tears involuntarily, but they were still wide open and unable to move away from the ghost's face. The cold breath enveloped the bodies of the elven warriors, extracting the last fighting spirit from the gaps in their muscles.

The ghost revealed its true appearance, with a beautiful and handsome female face appearing on a slightly ethereal head. The slight smile on her lips seemed to be the breath of spring, but it contained a cold and murderous aura that only existed in the severe winter.

The moment the elves relaxed a little, the real attack began. The face of the banshee aged a hundred years in an instant, becoming the appearance of a decayed corpse. Only the infinite hatred for living creatures remained in her empty eye sockets, and from the huge mouth she opened, a death cry came from the deepest part of the world of the undead.

Howl of the Banshee.

The sharp sound suddenly sounded and then dissipated. Silence returned to this small forest, as silent as a cemetery. The banshee continued to float forward, while the elves around her had turned into lifeless corpses. Their skin turned gray, like a ghoul. Whether it is the golden hair or the green eyes, they are all covered in the same gray and dark tone by death.

The elf captain's eyes were blood red, his nose was filled with a fishy hot smell, and there was only a buzzing in his ears. Now, bloodshot eyes oozed from every pore on his body , and his clothes were completely dyed red.

However, he still raised the long bow in his hand with difficulty, aiming at the banshee that was gradually approaching.

The specially made arrows hit accurately as always, continuing his past record of never missing. The banshee felt the pain and realized the huge threat posed by this weapon. She suddenly held the face of the elf captain and "stared" at the eyes of the only living creature in front of her with her dried eyeballs.

Just like those trees that were dying quickly, the last bit of the Elf Captain's life was quickly drained away. His skin seemed to have been drained of moisture , and the black spots quickly suppressed the originally fair complexion and spread throughout his body. The Elf Captain was like a mummy, with only his withered torso left. His face could no longer be recognized, and he had lost all the characteristics of a living creature.

The banshee relied on this absorption of the elf captain to constantly repair the damage suffered in her body. The power of holy water also has its own limits, and the banshee itself is much more powerful than those ordinary ghosts. Finally, one arrow still could not destroy this high-level undead creature, and the defense line guarded by this group of elven guards was broken through by the undead.

The banshee threw the elf in her hand aside like a bag of garbage. Although that guy is still stubbornly still breathing, the ghosts and vampires behind the banshee are the real fighting group. She hid her figure, and the once suppressed undead army charged forward again.