Eth jumped down from the passage above and landed in front of Ed, brandishing his staff to block all attacks, letting out a roar of rage. The irresistible fear made the barbarians, who bordered on madness, involuntarily flinch. A cane that was no less powerful than any weapon in Is's hand smashed into the head of a barbarian with a sound of wind, and Ed suddenly came to his senses and pounced on it and grabbed Is's black robe.

"Don't kill him!" his shrill voice changed tone, "Is! you can't kill him!"

The ice dragon roared in exasperation, its staff changed direction in midair, and kicked the person in front of it away.

Mock's voice finally came from the chaos: "Don't kill those two! they are not enemies! They saved your children!"

He yelled several times, repeating it in the language of the barbarians, and the barbarians gathered around Ed and Iss gradually stopped attacking. Isse slammed his staff to the ground, still glaring at everyone.

Ed staggered to his feet, stood beside him, and watched the barbarians carry away the children who had begun to cry at such times, relieved and powerless.

He tried not to look at the corpse on the ground—the man who died at his hands, even if he was a necromancer, his blood was still hot......

He involuntarily rubbed the blood on his hands.

- You didn't do anything wrong. If you don't kill him, you will be the one who dies.

He told himself, but his hands were still shaking.

A loud bang made him almost jump to his feet, and when he looked up, he saw Mork sitting on the shoulders of a barbarian, pushing away the crowd and trying to squeeze them over.

"Well done!" the dwarf smiled widely, "Now, go!"

Before Ed could react, one of the barbarians grabbed him and carried him to his shoulder, and when the other tried to concoct it against Isru, he was forced to retreat by his glittering eyes.

"I'll go myself!" he said coldly. At the same time, he impatiently snatched the long sword that Ed still clenched in his hand in a daze, and threw it to Mork.

"Toom ran away. He told the dwarves, "If you don't want to be flanked from front to back, you'd better find a way to block the passage above." ”

Mock shook his head and said with some frustration, "It's too late." We're going to have to smash open a big enough door and rush out. ”

In the passage above, there were already undead rushing through the entrance of the cave and another cave, and some barbarians blocked them and resisted with all their might.

"Let's go!" Mock urged.

The barbarian carrying Ed strode in the direction of the loud noise, and Iss glanced back, but still followed.

A second loud bang was heard, and amid cheers, a large hole broke open in the already fragile rock wall, and people rushed out in a hurry to rush for the freedom they thought was impossible.

But between them and the bright sun and the bitter cold wind on the snow. There is still darkness and death.

"Retreat!" Scott yelled, "Retreat outside!"

He still underestimated the strength of the other party. But luckily, they weren't going to rely on these dozens of people to rush in and take out all the enemies, and he wasn't just a priest.

He swung his sword to block the heavy blow of his enemy, and his arm was numb from the shock. I was also secretly surprised by the agility of the other party. His spells had no effect on the undead who surrounded him - they were clearly no ordinary undead.

A crossbow bolt struck another enemy who was raising his axe and slashing at his head, and even the enchanted weapon failed to bring it down, only to pause its movements slightly.

"Leave them alone! Get out!" Scott dodged the blow and yelled again. He couldn't see where the elves were, but he didn't want Norway to be surrounded by the same for trying to help him.

Norway understood his intentions and fired crossbow arrows at the undead trapped in the hole. But he had a limited number of arrows, and it didn't take long. He had to jump out of his hiding place and join the warband with his sword.

Elves are not obsessed with taking down enemies, but rather attract the attention of more undead with their fast movements to reduce the pressure on barbarian warriors. The young warriors who were surrounded roared, and the blessing of the half-elf priest kept them from being overwhelmed by fear when facing the undead, as the effectiveness of the spell waned. They found another kind of strength in their hearts - anger.

Most of their equally youthful faces were stiff and cold. They are deprived of the right to live and the peace after death, manipulated to harm their own people, and may even have the blood of their loved ones on their hands, and even if purified, their souls will never return to their ancestors.

Nutka recognized one of them—it was one of her people. The thought of those who went missing was probably all dead. She was the only one of the Snow Eagle tribe still alive, and her grief and anger had taken the rhythm out of her rhythmic attack. She roared, desperately rushing at her enemy, only to nearly trip over the shattered limbs under her broadsword.

Someone jerked her and dragged her back to her companions.

"Calm down, Nutka!" someone shouted, "You're not alone!"

The voice somewhat regained her senses. But it didn't take long for her to realize that even if they all fought together calmly, they might not be able to rush out again.

More and more undead seem to be pouring in. The flame-like red light burst out again, and none of the undead who surrounded Scott fell, and some of the besieging barbarians fell, but Scott was already too far away from them, and he couldn't help them much.

A light of another color lit up at the entrance of the cave, a dazzling silver white, as if the sunlight reflected from the snow suddenly became a thousand times more violent. A large number of undead who crowded the entrance to the cave fell silently, making way for the barbarian warriors.

The necromancers immediately realized that the center of the white light was not Scott, and that there was apparently another priest hiding outside the cave, but that wasn't the only thing they had to worry about.

A violent tremor took both sides by surprise - it was not the work of either of them.

The undead are not affected by this, and they continue to faithfully carry out their orders. The barbarians could break through the blockade of the cave and get into the protection of the sun, but there were too many enemies, and the young warriors were recklessly lunging too deep into the cave despite Scott's repeated warnings. Even if the half-elf's spell was able to tear a rift in the encirclement, it would be quickly filled by more undead, and the undead who were only besieging Scott without fear of purification also branched out to turn to the hole.

They're obviously not afraid of the sun either, if they find Keller Brian...... The Half-Elf Priest was usually able to protect himself, but Scott couldn't be relieved to think of his face so pale that he could see almost every vein under his skin.

He was a little irritable, a little irritated - he was probably used to everyone obeying his every command. According to the plan, Celebryan shouldn't have made a move at this time, but calm down and think about it, the half-elf's decision was not wrong.

"Norwe!" he yelled, "to protect Karen!"

The elf slashed down an enemy, jumped up from his falling body, and ventured out of the cave on top of everyone's heads.

Scott abandoned his original plan and rushed to the hole with his sword in hand. He had no time to say any more incantations, hoping that the undead would still be ordered to capture him alive rather than kill him.

With the loud sound of the rock collapsing, another tremor was heard. Scott was astonished to hear the voice of only the living—the war cry of a savage, but from the depths of the cavern.

The necromancers were apparently flustered as well, and for a moment, many of the undead stood in place in a daze due to conflicting commands, or bumped into each other.

In a brief moment of confusion, the barbarians seized the opportunity to rush out of the cave. Most of them were wounded, but Celebrian was able to heal them, and under the protection of the sun, they only had to face as many enemies as they were.

But the undead who had been heading for the Half-Elf Priest also retreated and joined the siege of Scott again. Others were blocked at the entrance of the cave, making it impossible for the barbarian warriors to re-enter, while others changed direction and headed deeper into the cave.

Scott breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently, the necromancers had planned to abandon the young man and focus on him, and if it went well, he would still be able to enter the interior of the cave, and all he needed to do was avoid getting too badly injured before he was caught inside.

He retreated, half deliberately, half forced, into the darkness, which was quickly illuminated by the firelight. Surrounded by undead spirits far above him, Scott had a hard time seeing outside, but he heard the sound of war cries again, as well as the sound of stumbling footsteps and even the cries of babies.

Someone in the cave escaped.

Soon, the fleeing crowd collided with the returning undead. The scuffle began again, and the siege of Scott was no longer rock-solid.

Scott hesitated for a moment, but when he realized that most of the people who had escaped were old men and women, he had to make a choice - he had to help the people escape.

He yelled and told the people outside the cave to prepare for the escapees, hoping that the elves would hear him. A moment of distraction caused his long sword to be grabbed by the painless enemy, and he grabbed the blade with his hand, snatched it away with force, and fell forward to his knees because of the heavy blow from the back.

When his feet were grabbed and lifted upside down by different hands, Scott gave up on resisting and took the last chance to shout a spell that always seemed too long.

Something slammed into the back of his head, and before darkness descended, a fiery red glow imprinted on the bottom of his eyes.