Elven cultivators

"Is that the entrance to the Abyss?"

Thirty kilometers south of Windwailing Canyon, on a hillside, Rexxar gazed at the outline of a giant gate, its shape obscured by the mist, his expression grave.

Not long ago, after sensing strong fluctuations in the laws, Bloodhowl Fortress immediately dispatched people to investigate the reason behind it, and soon discovered the anomaly in Windhowl Canyon.

After several investigations, they were able to confirm that what Grant had said earlier had come true: the Ring of Annihilation had indeed opened the entrance to the Abyss.

In fact, Rexar was mentally prepared for this to happen.

When he was still unable to learn the specifics of the Ring of Annihilation's plans, he knew that he could no longer stop the opening of the Abyss.

The only thing that made him sigh inwardly was that the opening of the Underworld was somewhat ill-timed.

Because of the huge compensation paid to the Silvermoon Clan, Bloodhowl Fortress has not yet fully recovered and is far from adequately prepared for the opening of the Abyss.

An orc general approached Rexxar and respectfully reported.

Rexxar snapped out of his daze and looked down at the densely packed tents below.

Because the incident happened so suddenly, Bloodhowl Fortress was unable to mobilize its main force in time. It could only gather troops from nearby towns around Windwail Canyon to surround the canyon and buy time for the main force to assemble and arrive.

"My lord, is there really an army of undead in the Abyss?" The orc general hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't help asking. "We've made quite a commotion this time. If nothing happens, we'll become a laughing stock."

Rexxar remained silent.

The orc general's words also reflect the thoughts of many in Bloodhowl Fortress.

The Abyss is too far away from us now, and many people don't even know what it is, so they naturally find it hard to realize the dangers it poses.

Moreover, there is currently insufficient evidence to prove that the so-called resurrection of the undead army is true.

"If there is any threat that the Abyss poses to the Dawn Continent, it can only be the remains of the dead that have been left over from ancient times."

"Rexxar said in a deep voice."

"In any case, it's always better to be careful."

The orc general nodded and laughed, "Even if the undead army really does resurrect, we'll just wipe them out."

"When we take over the Underworld, we might find some treasures left over from ancient times."

The orc general spoke with great confidence.

Don't be fooled by the fact that Bloodhowl Fortress suffered a setback at the hands of the Silvermoon Clan not long ago; that was because of Anton's existence.

In terms of military strength, Bloodhowl Fortress ranks among the top in the entire Dawn Continent.

He didn't believe that any undead army could be too much for Bloodhowl Fortress to handle.

Perhaps they won't even need to deploy their main force; the 200,000 troops already assembled will be enough to suppress the so-called undead army.

Rexxar did not refute his subordinate's words.

After all, he didn't know what the situation was like inside the Abyss.

If possible, he would certainly prefer the situation to be as the orc general had described.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from the bottom of the slope behind them.

A messenger rushed to the top of the slope, knelt on one knee, and said rapidly, "Sir, there's something strange happening over in Wind Cry Canyon. The mist is spreading outwards, and it seems... something is coming out!"

Rexxar's expression hardened, and he immediately said in a deep voice, "Transmit the image over."

The spellcasters on the hilltop were prepared and immediately began to cast their spells.

In an instant, the magic intertwined in the air into a spiderweb-like thin line, which then rapidly expanded and flattened, transforming into a giant water curtain more than five meters wide, suspended in mid-air at the top of the slope.

""

The image was initially very blurry, as if covered by a thin layer of frost, but as the magic stabilized, the image gradually became clear, and the scene at the entrance to Windwailing Canyon was reflected in the water curtain in great detail.

Upon seeing the scene clearly, all the orc generals held their breath.

At the entrance to the canyon, gray fog churned endlessly.

A dense mass of figures surged out from the depths of the fog like a burst dam.

Without exception, they all have a ferocious and terrifying appearance.

Or perhaps all that remains of their bodies is a pale, skeletal skeleton.

Or the flesh is shriveled, the skin clings tightly to the bones, and the eye sockets are empty, making it look like a walking mummy.

Or the body was covered with rotting flesh, and viscous liquid flowed down the skeleton, leaving charred black corrosion marks on the ground, and wisps of grayish-white smoke rose up.

Undead!

Countless undead poured out of Windwailing Valley, treading on broken bones and sand as they moved forward, their steps chaotic yet unstoppable.

The once empty wilderness was filled with countless figures in just a few breaths, spreading outwards from the canyon entrance like a gray-white tide flooding the plains.

"This is... the undead?"

"There are just too many..."

The orc generals present had seen countless bizarre creatures, but had almost never seen an undead.

Upon seeing the scene unfolding on the screen, their expressions changed, and they fell silent.

At the same time, a dense cluster of lights suddenly appeared deep within the gray fog of the canyon.

Thousands of enormous black silhouettes broke through the edge of the mist and emerged.

Those were enormous bone birds.

Their bodies are entirely made of fused bones, with wingspans as wide as sails. There is no membrane between the wing bones, only a layer of flowing gray mist, and two pale green flames burn around their eye sockets.

The points of light we saw earlier were their eyes.

After emerging from the canyon, these bone birds immediately flew rapidly toward the camera.

As a huge shadow swept across the mirror, a dull thud exploded from the screen.

The water curtain shook violently several times before exploding into a mist that filled the sky, with shattered magical light points scattering across the ground.

The hilltop fell completely silent.

Rexxar withdrew his gaze, turned around expressionlessly, and glanced at the generals behind him with their varied expressions.

"Pass down the order: the entire army shall launch an attack and form ranks ten kilometers outside the camp, ready to meet the enemy."

The orc generals then came to their senses, respectfully agreed, and turned to walk down the slope.

The camp quickly erupted in excitement, with bugle calls ringing out one after another.

Numerous soldiers quickly assembled in front of the camp and then advanced towards the open plain ten kilometers to the north.

The army spread out on the plain.

At the forefront were infantrymen composed of vassal races, conscripted from various small and medium-sized tribes, armed with spears and thick shields, arranged in dense horizontal formations.

Behind them, well-equipped orc soldiers formed an even thicker line, the blades of their battle axes gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

When the orc army arrived at its destination and arrayed itself on the plain, a grayish-white tide surged in from the other side of the plain.

The terrifying-looking spirits advanced slowly but steadily.

The vanguards of the two armies clashed quickly, and a fierce battle erupted instantly.

At the same time, Rexxar and the orc generals also moved to the rear of the army, where the water curtain reappeared in front of them.

The image shows a bird's-eye view of the battlefield.

The orc generals stared at the water curtain for a while, and their expressions gradually relaxed.

They discovered that while the undead looked terrifying, their actual combat strength was not much greater than that of the vassal race soldiers who served as cannon fodder.

It doesn't even reach the level of a typical town's security force.

"I thought these undead were some kind of powerful beings, but that's all they're capable of."

"Not very strong, and slow-moving, but can do a lot."

"It seems we don't need to wait for the main force; we can wipe out these monsters now."

The orc generals all broke into smiles.

Rexxar remained silent, his eyes fixed intently on the battle.

As time went on, the war intensified.

The casualties among the vassal soldiers were rising rapidly, and the orc forces were also beginning to suffer losses.

Of course, the undead suffered far greater casualties than the orcs.

But the orc officers gradually realized something was wrong.

Despite their superior military strength, they were unable to advance the battle lines.

The situation was deadlocked from the very beginning.

"These undead are not strong, but there are too many of them."

Rexxar's face had become unusually gloomy at some point.

The orc generals observed closely for a while and indeed found that it was just as Rexxar had said.

The undead kept pouring in from the direction of Windwailing Canyon, showing no signs of decreasing.

Worse still, as casualties increased, the morale of their troops had clearly declined.

On the other hand, the undead have absolutely no concept of morale.

They are fearless, undaunted by pain and death, and their offensive remains steadfast and fierce.

As time went by, the situation gradually became unfavorable to them.

Just then, a series of whooshing sounds came from the direction of the canyon.

Thousands upon thousands of bone birds charged into the battlefield at an incredible speed.

Because the troops were drawn from nearby towns, the orcs' flying army was small in number and of varying quality.

They were defeated by the bone bird almost instantly.

After that, the bone birds changed targets and began attacking ground troops.

Without air cover, the orc army began to collapse rapidly under the continuous harassment of the bone birds.

Amidst the chaos, a deafening roar suddenly came from the direction of Windwailing Canyon.

A massive figure suddenly joined the battle.

It was a colossal dragon of unparalleled size.

Unlike any dragon I've ever seen before, its body had almost no flesh and skin, only a skeleton covered with a translucent gray-blue energy membrane.

The edges of the wing membrane are serrated, leaving a faint black trail in the air when it flies.

Its chest cavity was completely open, and the heart and organs were not visible. There was only a slowly rotating dark purple nebula that distorted the surrounding light into a vortex.

"That's... a dragon?"

"Is this also a spirit of the dead?"

"What an amazing aura!"

Before the water curtain, the orc generals looked horrified.

This was the first time they had ever seen a dragon turned into an undead.

The key point is that this giant dragon brought them an extremely heavy sense of oppression.

It is clearly a dragon of the Saint rank!

Rexxar's expression turned more serious than ever before, and he decisively ordered: "The army retreats, and leaves the battlefield as quickly as possible."

Before the orc generals could react, they soared into the sky to meet the approaching dragons.

He had to stop the dragon, otherwise his army would not be able to evacuate.