Elven cultivators

It is more than 40 kilometers outside the Wind-Weeping Canyon.

Waguan City.

This is the closest town to Windwail Canyon, and it is known for its abundant mineral reserves.

However, this once bustling and prosperous mining town has now completely changed.

Shops on both sides of the street had their doors and windows wide open, with goods scattered all over the ground, covered with a thick layer of sand and dust.

The iron signboard that used to hang above the shop entrance was now crooked and detached, its edges rusted, and it made a slight creaking sound in the cold air.

The patrolling undead marched in procession through the deserted street.

They moved in unison, walking in a circular pattern along the deserted streets, like tireless puppets.

The entire town was deserted and lifeless, devoid of any sign of life, and had become a ghost town.

A massive dragon swept across the city wall, its outstretched wings casting a large shadow that almost covered half the street.

As a Nether Dragon transformed from the initial dragon species, its size is already larger than that of ordinary dragons, and the Nether Dragon in front of us is even larger than its kind, resembling a towering mountain.

The cold, decaying aura emanating from his body was so dense it was almost tangible. In the blink of an eye, he swiftly traversed the streets, arriving above the city lord's mansion in the town center, where his massive body crashed down like a collapsing mountain.

Boom!

Stone fragments flew everywhere, and bricks and stones scattered like raindrops.

The dome of the main hall of the city lord's mansion collapsed completely, and bricks and wooden beams fell into the hall, creating a huge, chaotic crater.

Smoke and dust filled the air, and the pungent smell of dust swirled and rolled in the atmosphere.

call!

Two figures emerged from the smoke and dust, landing not far away.

A cold, strong wind blew up, scattering the dust and revealing the faces of two figures.

Standing in front was a tall, humanoid creature with a grayish-white body, looking somewhat like a pale knight, but its bone armor was exquisitely crafted, engraved with countless intricate and mysterious black patterns that even extended from the armor to its withered skin.

His hands, however, were unusually clean, without a single line, and had an eerie pale color.

A thin layer of grayish-white mist enveloped him, two eerie blue flames flickered in the eye sockets of his helmet, and a long, narrow bone sword hung at his waist. The edge of the blade was covered with fine cracks, as if it might shatter at any moment, yet it exuded a chilling aura.

Anyone here who has carefully perused the intelligence booklet would immediately recognize the creature before them. It is none other than Karon the Pale Hand, one of the six great lords of the undead army.

Following half a step behind him was an almost illusory figure.

Her silhouette appeared and disappeared in mid-air, her long hair swaying gently in the air like seaweed, her face alluring and seductive, with a faint smile on her lips.

The howling banshee, Celine.

He is also one of the six major lords.

As for the Nether Dragon that descended from the sky, needless to say, only the Nether Dragon King Darkwing, who is also a lord, would dare to do such a thing.

"Darkwing, couldn't you just come in properly this once?" Celine glared at the Dark Dragon King reproachfully. "We finally have a place to sit down and discuss things, and you've ruined it again."

The Dark Dragon King slowly folded his wings, turned his eyes to Celine, his eye sockets had no pupils, only two leaping gray-white flames.

He let out a low, hoarse chuckle: "There are plenty of places like this. We just captured a few towns on the front lines. If you fancy one, just go and pick it yourself."

Celine chuckled and said, "Never mind, I'd rather be closer to the Underworld. If Your Majesty needs anything, I can get there as soon as possible."

"You are indeed loyal." The King of the Underworld snorted coldly, his tone revealing little admiration.

He paused, then asked, "Is Your Majesty still in the Underworld?" Celine smiled and nodded.

The King of the Underworld was silent for a moment, then said coldly, "What exactly is Your Majesty doing? The war has been going on for so long, and he hasn't shown himself at all. If he were willing to take action, we would have destroyed the defenses of the Red Leaf Plains long ago."

Celine's smile remained unchanged: "If we want to destroy the Red Leaf Plains' defenses, the six of us can do the work, but what's the point? Once Bloodhowl Fortress retreats to Bloodhowl City, we won't be able to do anything to them. It's better to continue wearing down their forces on the Red Leaf Plains."

Based on the intelligence gathered so far, Bloodhowl City and the fortified cities in the Qazadum Mountains are clearly the toughest nuts to crack in the north.

Bloodhowl Fortress and Heart of the Mountains have been established in their strongholds for many years, and their magic array defense system is impregnable. They are not so easy to take down.

"At this stage, we should first conquer other places in the northern part of the continent and slowly accumulate strength. Once we have enough troops to destroy Bloodhowl City, it will not be too late to concentrate our forces to attack the Red Leaf Plains defense line."

The King of the Underworld sneered, "Stop making excuses. In the end, you're just afraid of dying."

Celine smiled without refuting, but simply raised her hand to gently gather the stray strands of hair that had fallen by her temples.

She had finally escaped from that desolate abyss and seen the light of day again, and she didn't want to risk her life.

Although she is a demigod, there are many beings and methods on the Dawn Continent that could kill her.

If you're not careful, you might die again someday.

Even the Black Emperor, who had mastered the laws of death, couldn't resurrect her then. Moreover, the six lords weren't a united front.

They were mortal enemies in life, and although they lost their memories after becoming ghosts, it was impossible for them to unite and cooperate without any resentment. They had no shortage of open and covert struggles and sabotage against each other.

Unless the Black Emperor personally leads the army, it's simply a pipe dream to expect the six lords to join forces.

Apart from her and Caron being able to cooperate somewhat, which of the other four lords wasn't fighting their own battles?

"What His Majesty is doing is none of our business," Celine said with a charming smile. "But if you really want to know, you can go into the Abyss and ask His Majesty yourself."

Upon hearing this, the flames in the eyes of the Underworld Dragon King flickered a few times. He snorted coldly and ignored the stubborn banshee, turning his head to look at the silent Charon.

"I heard you sent an army to the border to deal with a force called the Silvermoon Clan, but your entire army of 300,000 was wiped out as soon as it arrived?"

Kalon spoke indifferently, his voice low: "The Silvermoon Clan is more troublesome than I imagined."

The King of the Underworld sneered, "I told you long ago, none of your undead subordinates are of any use."

Kalon commands the largest number of low-ranking undead in the undead army.

Most of the skeleton warriors, undead soldiers, and skeletal cavalry were under his command.

In addition, there are elite units such as Bone Giants and Pale Knights.

But apart from that, he had almost no high-level troops under his command.

The Stonefall Titan, the Dark Dragon, the Frost Giant, the Howling Banshee, the Abyssal Whale... these elite forces capable of influencing the course of the battle are all in the hands of the other five lords.

Therefore, although Karon commanded the largest number of troops, in terms of combat strength, he was inferior to the other five lords.

Faced with the Dragon King's mockery, Kalon did not refute, but simply said indifferently, "Low-rank undead always need someone to lead them."

Celine suddenly interrupted their conversation, chuckling as she said, "Speaking of which, what was the name of that Silvermoon Clan chief... Anton Silvermoon?"

Caron nodded slightly: "Not bad."

"I heard that the Dragon Court was destroyed because this elf killed a dragon, exposing the fact that the Dragon God had fallen, which led to all races and forces attacking the Dragon Court together."

"Because of this, Anton Silvermoon is also known as the Meteor Dragon Sword Saint."

As Celine spoke, her gaze drifted almost imperceptibly toward the Underworld Dragon King.

The gray-white flames in the latter's eyes indeed began to flicker violently, and the chilling death aura emanating from its body surged even more fiercely.

"Those useless trash from the Dragon Court." The Nether Dragon King's tone was icy cold.

"The mighty Golden Clan has been driven to such a state by a group of inferior races."

"If it were our time, would those lowly races have the audacity to rebel?"

He slowly tightened his claws, carving deep furrows in the ground, crushing pebbles into powder in his claws.

"The Silvermoon Clan... Anton Silvermoon."

"I want to meet him myself and see just how capable he really is."

As soon as he finished speaking, the Nether Dragon King suddenly flapped his wings and took flight.

Its enormous body soared into the sky from the shattered dome, the gusts of wind whipped up by its wingtips scattering the remaining rubble in the hall.

Caron and Celine remained motionless.

The dust and gravel stopped abruptly about two meters in front of them and then settled to the ground.

The howling banshee chuckled as she watched the enormous silhouette disappear into the gray sky.

"After the first generation of dragons revived, their power didn't weaken much, but their minds became simpler and simpler. All they do all day is mock others and show off their bravery and aggression. If the Dragon God knew that his most valued descendant had become like this, he would probably be so angry that he would recycle them one by one." Kalon's tone remained indifferent: "The Dragon God has already fallen."

Celine paused slightly, turned to look at him, and shook her head: "You really don't understand humor at all."

......

Primordial City, Nine-Tiered Tower.

In the quiet room, Anton sat cross-legged on a futon, his eyes slightly closed.

An ethereal, illusory form floated behind him, half of its body overlapping with his.

Before Anton, a golden rhombus-shaped crystal was suspended half a meter above the ground, slowly rotating.

The golden light, like condensed liquid sunlight, flowed silently along the edges of the fragments.

Strands of visible golden threads peeled off the surface of the fragments, floating lightly like willow catkins lifted by a spring breeze, and then slowly drifted toward the Dharma body behind Anton by an invisible force.

During this process, countless illusory dragon shadows drifted out from the golden threads.

They varied in appearance, yet all appeared devout and fanatical, their mouths opening and closing incessantly, uttering orderly and loud prayers and chants, like countless fine needles densely piercing Anton.

However, Anton was prepared. His divine sense surged out like a tide, transforming into layers of invisible barriers that kept the illusory dragon shadows at bay.

At the same time, the array patterns on the four walls of the quiet room also lit up.

A cyan halo enveloped the dragon shadows, slowly grinding them like a millstone, crushing and peeling them away layer by layer, silently dissolving them completely.