The sun sank to the back of the Dajianken mountain range, and the rays of light burned the entire sky red, and the hills and ridges seemed to be stained with blood. The waves on the Emerald River were like fire, and the land outside the Serene Forest was scarlet in the dusk.

This war is over at this moment.

There was a thick **** smell in the air, and countless broken and broken spears and sharp swords were half-hidden between the soil and the bones, shining faintly in the dim light.

Rivers of blood flowed on the vast land, corpses were scattered everywhere, stumps and broken arms, and the hideous heads rolled in the corners. The dead goblins stared at the sky with unwilling eyes. corner.

The dire vultures of the sky do not hover as they descend into death-strewn battlefields, swooping down like bees to flowers in the face of this luxurious feast, heading for their target.

They landed on top of the blood-stained corpse, hissing in delight as they thrust their beaks into the eyeballs that could no longer see.

At this moment, the protagonists on the battlefield have become overwhelming beasts and scavengers, and perhaps they are the ultimate beneficiaries.

The Heruk Hobgoblin tribe did not leave a single living enemy. Except for those who died on the run, all the others were beheaded. Few of them went eastward into the depths of the Serene Forest.

War does not necessarily bring wealth, but it certainly leaves pain.

It may be because most players living in the Emerald Wilderness have long been used to seeing life and death, so they don't have so many emotional fluctuations.

Most of the surviving fighters were too tired to feel joy and sorrow, as many were wounded, maimed or killed in the wilderness, and many needed help.

They just rested a little, cleaned the battlefield, and collected the corpses, then escorted the countless wounded and walked silently on the way back.

At this time, no matter if they were famous or unknown, whether they were generals or soldiers, there were too many people killed in action.

It's a real battle, and not even a single story can tell the full story.

A long time later, a bard wrote in his "Song of the Dawn":

We know the roar of battle horns that used to be in the wilderness.

In the emerald field, the sword is out of its sheath, Ye Ye,

The horses galloped like a whirlwind of death,

They rushed to the battlefield and ignited the fire.

A new **** was born there, the goddess of goblins and wisdom,

Also fell the incarnation of the Almighty, the goblin-like patron saint Magrubier.

Since then,

Goblin race, break free from the shadow of fear,

The Five Towns Alliance, ushered in the dawn of dawn.

their strength and wisdom,

their mission and sacrifice,

In exchange for the glory and rise after the victory.

In the shadow of the mountains, on the edge of the forest,

From dawn to dusk, death is treated equally.

The deceased protesters have long rested in

Under the long grass in the free country, along the emerald river.

Now the wind is blowing, the grass is luxuriant,

On that day, the four fields were killed, blood stained the earth,

The blood-like setting sun has dyed a new chapter.

…………

The group stopped when they came to a dim grove in the depths of the Forest of Tranquility.

The horses scratched their front hooves restlessly, snorted, and exhaled white air from their nostrils, apparently reluctant to enter the woods.

The trees were gloomy and gloomy, and there was a shadow or mist in the woods.

Their long branches hang down like thin fingers, the roots protruding from the ground are like the limbs of monsters, and there are dark caves open under the trees.

Thorne led the group to a stop, and reached out to signal everyone not to act rashly.

He was surprised to find that the road stretched forward, and the sky above his head was unobstructed and full of the brilliance of the afterglow.

But the large rows of oaks and firs on both sides of the road were already wrapped in gloom, extending into the distance without penetrating the shadows.

Indistinctly, Thorne heard the sound of branches cracking and groaning in pain from the depths, as well as distant exclamations, and slurred voices that seemed to murmur in anger.

"You guys go back first, just leave it to me here." Thorne was silent for a while, then threw away an oak leaf stained with light blood in his hand, and turned to look at the cavalry who were trying to appease the mounts.

"Lord Thorne, then we will leave first." The leader of the cavalry looked relieved when he heard the words, withdrew his slightly uneasy gaze, and saluted the Ranger with a fist.

Immediately, his legs were tucked into the horse's belly, and the warhorse quickly turned around very obediently, speeding up his steps to stay away from this strange forest.

Seeing the group of cavalry leave, Thorne pulled out a sharp sword exuding scorching light from his waist, looked at the figure floating in the air beside him, and said, "Should we continue to go in?"

"Go in, the temple of the Almighty is hidden here." The figure around him said slowly, but there was a slight echo of a voice full of divinity in his tone.

"What should I call you now, should I call you the goblin patron saint, or..." Thorne, who was about to walk deep into the jungle, suddenly paused and turned to look at his companions.

Malvasia, the goblin wizard, or Martha, the goddess of goblins and wisdom, was right in front of him at the moment.

As a deity, he wore a black one-piece dress, which, although it looked simple, was made of fine fabrics. Apart from the silver girdle that encircled his slender waist, there was no decoration on the garment.

He wears a hood, which makes his whole person's temperament become as simple as marble, and his appearance is calmer and colder.

He looks so much more like marble, Thorne thought, but at least the marble is still warmed by the sun, and he never, yes, never!

Although Thorne couldn't feel any majesty and some kind of oppression from the gods in him, whenever he looked at his eyes that turned into golden eyes, he couldn't help but feel a palpitating tremor in his heart. Let him not dare to look at him at will.

"Whatever." Malvasa stared into the depths of the jungle, a strand of black long hair that emerged from the hood swayed gently without wind, and said in a low voice.

Thorne no longer hesitated, lifted his sword, and took the lead in walking towards the shadow that his eyes could not penetrate.

Silence descended in this dense forest shrouded in darkness, only the rustling and faint whispers echoed from time to time, giving people a creepy feeling.

However, he was not worried at all, because standing behind him was a real god.

Thorne, who was in the shadows, took Malvasia, as if wandering aimlessly here, as if two ghosts were floating by.

I don't know how long it took...

When the icy shadows all dissipated, a pure black temple of the Almighty shrouded in divine brilliance appeared in the sight of the two of them.

Thorne stroked a wet strand of hair behind his ear that blocked his vision, and looked at the temple. He has successfully found this temple of the Almighty hidden in the depths of Tranquility Forest.

That means it's time for reckoning.

So he gently pulled out another sharp sword emitting a pale blue light, and looked vigilantly at the silent temple gate.

In the eyes of Thorne's expectation, a group of hobgoblin warriors quickly emerged from the gate of the temple, and at the same time blocked the door firmly without giving in.

What appeared in front of them was a group of hobgoblins who had lost their helmets and disarmed them.

They staggered out of the temple, one by one covered in blood, stained and mottled faces with expressions of panic that could not be concealed, blood-red eyes full of fear after failure, and a touch of despair for the future color.

Their hair was scattered, the wounds all over their bodies were still aching, and there was an uncontrollable painful moan in their throats. The blood-soaked armor was still dripping blood droplets on the ground indefinitely, on the stone steps of the Temple of the Almighty. Leaving a trail of **** traces.

"For the glory of the Almighty!" The hobgoblin warriors clenched the weapons in their hands with difficulty, rolling out a beast-like roar from their throats.

"Do you need to leave a few alive?" Thorne asked casually, clenching his swords and arching his back slightly.

"No." Malvasia shook her head slightly.

A stream of blood splattered.

There were corpses of hobgoblins all around Thorne, and there was not a single living mouth left. The gushing blood flowed down the stone steps to the soft ground, and under the brilliance of the temple, it radiated a faint luster.

Without any hesitation, the two walked towards the Temple of the Almighty, where the light gradually dimmed.

In the temple shrouded in gold and red torches, a tall and terrifying figure of the earth spirit appeared in front of the two of them. He had sharp fangs, ebony skin, and strong muscles.

When the two of them appeared, the eyes of the Almighty God Statue, which were surrounded by flames, suddenly rose up with raging fire, beating vicious flames, falling on Malvasia's body, and roaring like an irrational roar:

"The remnants of the godslayer, don't be too happy. One day, you will pay the most painful price for your arrogance and ignorance!"

Obviously, the success of conferred gods is only the beginning.

As a man who forcibly robbed the priesthood from the Almighty, it meant that the two sides would be caught in a never-ending battle.

The battle will continue until one side is completely destroyed.

"Boom!"

Malvasa stretched out her hand, and the vicious flame in the eye socket of this obsidian statue of the Almighty God instantly extinguished, and then collapsed, turning into a pile of ruins.

"Everything is over, go back..." Malvasia sighed, her golden eyes looking aimlessly around her, and she disappeared without a trace.

The night was quiet and serene, with the moon hanging from the treetops, looming behind the faint wisps of clouds. Although it was a clear night sky, Thorne somehow felt a chill in the air.

He did not leave with Malvasia, but walked out of the Serenity Forest and came to a hillside with a higher terrain.

The cool night wind gently swept across the grass, bending the grasses' waists, making the trees rustle.

Thorne just stood there, staring in the direction of Winterfell, fascinated by the darkness that made him feel depressed.

…………