Do ratmen dream of the sacred tree of spirits?

Chapter 106 Goodnight

Fafnir felt more and more eyes focused on him. Everyone sensed the abnormal flow of spiritual energy. Under spiritual vision, the rift, as the source of spiritual pollution, was already "out of money." Several of the third-tier demons who were fighting with Victor turned their heads away without regard for anything else. Their eyes pierced through the chaotic battlefield and accurately locked onto Fafnir's position.

Fafnir did not feel the pressure from the multiple third-tier demons. "Mr. Demery—" Fafnir saw that Bishop Demery in front of him was shielding him from the spiritual pressure, those pure and tyrannical messenger-level spiritual pressures. Soon, those pressures dissipated, and the third-tier demons had to concentrate on dealing with Victor's all-out attack. They discovered that this human messenger was increasing his spiritual output at the cost of injury. The silver-blue light of "Resonance" kept flashing. Mr. Victor noticed Fafnir, but he could not be distracted at the moment.

"Everyone, the spiritual pollution is dissipating! Halt the retreat! Advance! Push forward!" Bishop Gray, having also spotted the direction of the spiritual fluctuations, decisively issued the order. Sister Fanning swiftly led the sheriffs and night watchmen forward, weaving through the crowd. Without the influence of the black mist, they were no longer afraid—

But many people fell ill.

No—Bishop Demery is about to collapse. The number of enemies piling up is increasing, and Fafnir can no longer cast any spells. His spiritual energy is depleted. Although depleting spiritual energy will cause physical pain, it is far less painful than the pain caused by absorbing spiritual pollution.

It was a pity he couldn't help Bishop Demery before him. Fafnir felt a pang of regret. Why hadn't he explored the "ledger" more thoroughly? He could have not only utilized the "spiritual barrier" but perhaps also borrowed more third-tier spells. It was all his fault; he had been too complacent, satisfied with the status quo. Had things been too smooth for him? Without setbacks, without greater motivation—

Fafnir stopped thinking about it.

"Hold on a little longer! The rift is shrinking!" Bishop Gray shouted. "The black mist that was replenishing itself has been cut off!"

Fafnir looked at Bishop Demery, who could barely wield his sword anymore. Without the spirit infused into it, the sword was just a sturdy and sharp weapon. He was simply standing there, relying on his body's instincts to keep going.

"Bishop Demery!"

Bishop Kingsley was tackled by a first-tier demon who came towards him, his sword slipping from his hand with a "whoosh".

Fafnir immediately picked up Bishop Kingsley's sword and thrust it into the enemy's body. Bishop Kingsley stood up again and took back his sword.

"Little fellow—" Bishop Kingsley, his face covered in blood, smiled at him, his voice hoarse from shouting commands and battle cries: "Thank you—as long as I can breathe, please let me stand in front of you."

-

The fissures, deprived of the black mist's replenishment, are slowly shrinking, but—it's still not enough—

Fafnir saw it: Sister Fanning, charging forward, was facing a large-scale attack. Haha, Sister Fanning's attack posture was rather clumsy; she seemed very unfamiliar with the sword she'd found. Alas, perhaps her spiritual energy had been exhausted—no, she was beginning to be injured—

Mr. Victor could no longer hold on; the silvery-blue glow vanished. He was badly injured, and the blood that had spilled from him was his own.

Fafnir had lost the ability to feel pain. He didn't know what to think or do. The closer he got to the rift, the more efficient he became at absorbing the black mist.

"Mr. Demery," Fafnir began, his voice so hoarse he barely recognized himself, "could you please hold off those people in front of me for a little while—"

I'm going to kill them all!!!

Victor's consciousness was already blurred. Although he possessed sufficient spirituality, each time he wielded "Resonance," he not only faced...

Facing enemy attacks, he would also suffer the spiritual impact of the "resonance" reaction. Every time he cast a spell or made any battle decision, he became more exhausted. Although the excitement of battle would suppress this fatigue, a taut string will eventually snap. Viktor Zaitsev was prepared to face everything. He was ready long ago. He was not afraid, but he was unwilling to fall like this.

Suddenly, time seemed to stand still. Victor recovered and felt all the spiritual pollution dissipate, and the pressure lessened. Suddenly, all the third-tier demons paused for a moment. Victor used "Resonance" to instantly kill two of them with weaker spiritual fluctuations.

The situation immediately reversed, becoming one-sided. Without the aid of spiritual corruption, Victor and Aldrich joined forces and began the slaughter.

"

Victor collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. He used "Resonance" to support his body, preventing himself from falling completely.

On the ground, Aldridge was in even worse shape; his body was mangled, and half of his body was bleeding profusely.

A tragic atmosphere permeated the air, but those who survived felt fortunate.

"Victor—" Kingsley, having recovered somewhat, approached his friend. "Where's your sword?" Victor asked.

""

"—Where is Fafnir?"

"He—" Kingsley stopped sobbing. Victor straightened up and raised "Resonance" towards the spot where the rift had been. He unleashed a powerful strike, a massive and continuous influx of spiritual energy into "Resonance." The intense spiritual resonance even affected the spirit world, but "Resonance" could no longer withstand such intense input. It unleashed its final, most powerful strike, tearing a gap in space and exposing the shallow spirit world directly to everyone. The "rift" had vanished—

The "Resonance" in Victor's hand turned to dust, blood and tears dripping down.

Goodnight, my little Fafnir —

"(This is a letter that I asked Mr. Victor to write on my behalf. Currently, only the channels in the Eastern Region can send letters to the Nunns Empire.)"

Dear Mom and Dad:

Due to the recent friction between the Narns Empire and the Holy Kingdom, I may not be able to return to my homeland to be with you for quite some time. I may have to work in the Lorraine Territory for a while longer, or perhaps I will try to study at a university in the Holy Kingdom? I'm not quite sure. The good news is that my rank has been promoted, and I'm doing quite well in the Holy Kingdom.

I will send you letters from time to time, but due to foreign policy reasons, you may not receive them.

Also, I would be very happy if I could be the older brother at home —

By the way, I asked Mr. Victor for an advance of ten years' salary, borrowed some money, and exchanged some currency. Mr. Victor told me that things are tough in the Empire, especially since I just returned home and need a large sum of money.

Best wishes for a peaceful season, Fafnir Beckett

Victor casually slipped a bearer cheque worth two hundred gold pounds, issued by the Nunns Empire, into the envelope.

>