Elven cultivators

Western part of the continent, Starlight Plain.

As night fell, leaden clouds thinned the moonlight, leaving only a few dim silver rays filtering through the edge of the plain.

A caravan of about ten trucks was camping and resting on the leeward side of a dry riverbed. The campfire flickered on the gravelly ground, casting long and short shadows of the surrounding tents.

In the largest tent in the center of the camp, Donovan, the caravan leader, sat cross-legged behind a low table, holding a ceramic cup full of ale in his hand. He didn't drink much, but just frowned as he looked at the old map spread out on the table, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the name back and forth along a dotted line.

Sitting opposite him was the guard captain, Mo Sen, who was sturdy and had an old scar across his face that made his already rugged face look even more fierce.

He took a big gulp of beer, wiped his mouth haphazardly, and broke the silence with his words.

"I heard that the battle between the Freedom Alliance and Heart of the Mountains is at a stalemate."

"Just last month, the Freedom Alliance's army was on top of those short guys, so why have they suddenly turned to the defensive? Isn't this giving those short guys a chance to catch their breath? Have you found out what the reason is?"

Donovan snapped out of his reverie, casually rolled up the old map, pushed it to the corner of the table, and shook his head: "The Free Alliance is keeping information very tightly under wraps. I only managed to get a little bit of a rumor that their Supreme Commander seems to have run into some trouble and suddenly left the front lines to go back to the rear."

"Hamilton?" Morsen's expression shifted. "He's a pillar of the Freedom Alliance, a powerhouse at the Divine level. What could possibly happen to him?"

"I don't know." Donovan stroked the ceramic cup in his hand. "I'm still investigating, but it's not easy to get in touch with them. They're keeping a close eye on things over there."

Mosen thought for a moment and said in a deep voice, "This matter cannot be delayed. One of the locations for the ceremony is within the territory of the Free Alliance. The organization cannot rest easy until we understand Hamilton's situation."

"I understand." Donovan nodded, then changed the subject, "You took on several escort missions to the eastern part of the continent. How's the situation there now?"

Mentioning this, a hint of annoyance appeared on Mosen's fierce face.

He took another swig of ale before speaking in a muffled voice: "After the Bloodclaw Clan was defeated, those forces that fought alongside them were either suppressed by the Silvermoon Clan or surrendered. Now the entire eastern part of the continent has almost become the Silvermoon Clan's backyard."

"Previously, our organization's operations were only hampered in the Eldron Plains, Green Highlands, and Thunder River Basin, but now it's also difficult to carry out operations in other parts of the east."

"I don't know if the Silvermoon Clan has their eyes on us or what, but they've been tracking down and eliminating our forces. Several of their strongholds have been destroyed."

By the end, Mosen's tone was filled with undisguised anger and hatred.

"Anton has gone head-to-head with the organization. Not only has he ruined our plans countless times, but now he's starting to hunt down our people. It's clear he doesn't want our organization to set foot in the eastern part of the continent."

Upon hearing this, a shadow crossed Donovan's eyes. After a moment of silence, he said, "Let's temporarily halt our operations in the eastern part of the continent to avoid alerting the enemy."

"At this stage, the organization's top priority is still the ritual. Once the Abyss opens and the army of the dead descends upon the continent, there will be plenty of ways to deal with the Silvermoon Clan. No matter how powerful those elves are, can they withstand the tide of the army of the dead?"

Mosen grinned: "That's true. Then we'll focus our operations on the Freedom Alliance in the near future. If the Third Seat needs our help, please let us know."

"I will report to the Third Seat," Donovan nodded. "He just happened to be back in Starlight Plains..."

Before the words were finished, a voice suddenly drifted in from outside the tent.

"So that's how it is. The third seat of the Ring of Annihilation is in the Starlight Plains."

The sound wasn't loud, but it clearly penetrated the tent's fabric walls, like someone whispering in your ear.

Donovan and Morsen's expressions changed drastically at the same time, and they sprang up from the ground.

"Who?!"

Donovan gave a low shout, his right hand already gripping the hilt of the short blade at his waist.

Mosen was faster; he had already taken a step to the tent entrance and abruptly pulled back the curtain.

A cold wind rushed in, dimming the flickering flames inside the tent.

Then they saw two figures.

An elf, a human.

The elf was tall and slender, and the moonlight gilded the ends of his pale golden hair with a faint silvery white.

He stood there casually, his moon-white robe fluttering gently in the night breeze, yet even his breathing was barely audible.

The human stood beside him, tall and imposing, with a giant sword on his back.

Donovan's gaze lingered on the human face for a moment, his pupils suddenly contracting.

"Grant Hayes!"

Having spent most of his time operating within the Freedom Alliance, he naturally recognized the Freedom Alliance's youngest legendary swordsman.

At the same time, Mosen's voice, filled with shock and terror, reached my ears.

"Anton Silver Moon!"

Donovan paused, then felt a sudden jolt in his heart, and stiffly turned his neck toward the elf.

Under the moonlight, that young and delicate face quickly matched the description in the intelligence report.

It was none other than the Meteor Dragon Sword Saint.

That extremely wicked spirit that caused the organization's plans to fail multiple times.

Without hesitation, Donovan suddenly retreated, his back slamming through the thick canvas of the tent with a dull tearing sound, and he vanished into the night.

Only one thought remained in his mind—escape!

Facing two saints, one of whom was at the pinnacle of sainthood, they had no chance of winning.

We must escape, the sooner the better!

After leaving the tent, Donovan discovered that the caravan and guards were lying motionless on the open ground around the camp, their fate unknown.

completely annihilated!

The key point is that he didn't hear any fighting sounds at all, as if someone had silently taken down the entire caravan in an instant.

Donovan was increasingly horrified.

He didn't even have time to think about how Anton and Grant had done it; he only felt an extremely sharp intent locking onto his back.

laugh.

A very soft sound, like a thin blade piercing silk.

Donovan's movements suddenly froze.

He looked down and saw a ray of dark golden light shining from his chest, the tip of which was so clean that not a drop of blood was on it.

A soul-rending pain followed, exploding outwards and tearing him apart from the inside out.

Before his consciousness faded into darkness, he caught a glimpse of Morsen lying motionless on the ground not far away, face down.

The golden sword light spun silently behind Donovan, then transformed into a streak of light, drawing a graceful arc in mid-air before disappearing into Anton's chest.

The camp fell silent again, with only the crackling of the campfire and the low whistling of the night wind sweeping across the gravelly ground.

Grant glanced at the two corpses on the ground, then turned to Anton: "Who is the third seat that those two mentioned earlier?"

"That's one of the core high-ranking members of the Ring of Annihilation. The highest management body of this organization is called the 'Eternal Ring,' which consists of thirteen people named from the first to the thirteenth seat," Anton explained casually, as if chatting about everyday matters. "Each of them is in charge of a region, and the third seat should be responsible for the Starlight Plains and several surrounding areas."

Grant glanced at Anton, hesitated, but finally couldn't help asking, "Anton... how do you know so much about the Ring of Annihilation?"

Even with the Freedom Alliance's intelligence network, they could barely piece together a partial outline of the Ring of Annihilation, and they hadn't even fully figured out its organizational structure.

It's truly baffling that Anton even knows the core high-level information of the Ring of Annihilation.

"The more you interact with them, the more you naturally learn," Anton casually replied.

He wasn't lying; it's just that the place where he "dealt with" someone wasn't in this lifetime.

In his past life in the game, he had fought against the Ring of Eternity quite a few times.

He wouldn't say he knew the Eternal Ring inside and out, but he recognized at least most of the thirteen members of the group.

Grant was clearly skeptical, but seeing that Anton didn't seem inclined to explain further, he didn't press the matter.

Just then, the two of them suddenly changed their expressions and turned their heads to look in the direction of the north side of the plain.

On the horizon, more than a dozen figures dressed in uniform armor, who looked like guards, were hurrying along the edge of the river.

Grant glanced at the silver shield badges pinned to the men's chests and said in a low voice, "They should be the garrison of a nearby town."

The Free Alliance was not a unified kingdom, but a loose alliance consisting of seven major city-states and hundreds of subordinate cities.

The highest authority is the Council of Alliances, composed of the chief governors of the seven city-states, with the chairman rotating every year.

In addition to the Alliance Council, there is a "War Governor" who has the highest military command authority.

This refers to Hamilton, whom the two members of the Ring of Annihilation mentioned earlier.

In the original history, Hamilton was also the first demigod-level powerhouse on the continent.

Anton estimated that Hamilton's departure from the front lines was most likely in preparation for a breakthrough.

What puzzled him was that, according to the original history, Hamilton's breakthrough should have occurred seven or eight hundred years later.

Could it be that this matter has been brought forward as well?

Shaking his head, Anton didn't think much of it and looked at the guards who were rushing over.

The alliance's military forces are divided into two parts.

The main legion is under the jurisdiction of the Alliance Council and the command of the War Governor, and is mainly responsible for foreign wars and the defense of core cities.

Towns and cities in various regions only have the authority to form garrison units to maintain local security.

The group of people coming in front of us are most likely the Starlight City security team.

The person quickly stopped at the edge of the camp.

The leader was a human man in his thirties, with a handsome face and medium build. Although his aura was not weak, his skin had a sickly pale color.

Anton's gaze fell on the man, and his expression immediately became strange.