Finally back, a chapter is served.

Rhaegar had already noticed the two herdsmen below, and knew that the other had spotted him, but he didn't mind - he just wanted to fly to the center of that camp as quickly as possible, and then destroy the totems and leave before the people could react, these ordinary mortals couldn't have caused any trouble to themselves.

But it turned out that this idea was wishful thinking, and after a moment of shock, the herdsman who was about to bend his bow and shoot an arrow quickly regained his composure, and he calmly aimed at Rhaegar and fired his own long arrow at the other party.

As the bow and arrow departed, Rhaegar realized that he had made a mistake in his judgment, these people were no ordinary herdsmen, except for their precise archery, their arrows were accompanied by some kind of magical power, which allowed them to shoot long arrows with terrifying speed and penetration. The geist had no doubt that if he really allowed that long arrow to be shot, even his own modified body, which was harder than ordinary steel, would definitely not be immune to injury.

An invisible magic shield appeared in front of Rhaeggar, and the whizzing arrow hit the center of the shield accurately and caused ripples on it, and then fell weakly to the ground, but this did not stop the opponent, and the next moment of seeing the attack ineffective, the herdsman and his companion immediately launched a second attack.

Even those elves who are good at shooting can't compare with these herdsmen in speed, from drawing long arrows to aiming at the target, and then shooting, their movements are all in one go, without the slightest pause, just in an instant, six sharp arrows appeared in the air almost at the same moment, flying towards the intruder in front of them from six different directions.

Rhaegar finally understood why the owner of the Faith Eagle would ask him to provoke this tribe: it was clear that this was a tribe of guardians, and in normal times, they were no different from the other tribes here, and only when the entire grassland or their own safety was endangered, these grassland guardians who did not belong to any nation would tear off their disguises and show their extraordinary strength.

In the literature of the god of storm, Rhaegar had read about these guardians: they were believed to be the family of some of the guardians of the steppes, and after the fall of those gods, they automatically took the place of their masters. They possess all sorts of magical powers inherited from the gods, and although they have lost their blessings and are gradually diminished by the thinning of their bloodlines in intermarriage with foreign tribes, they are still one of the most unprovoked objects in the world in the eyes of the mages.

Arrows from the Guardian quickly approached Rhaeggar's side, and even though they were once again fended off by the magic shield, more were coming in a steady stream of arrows - at least thirty long arrows were in the quiver on the backs of the two herdsmen—and at the same time, a long, continuous howl came from the mouth of one of the herdsmen, apparently a warning to his fellow herdsmen.

Endless killing power swelled in Rhaeggar's mind, and although he had made up his mind, he still wanted to be able to do what he had asked for in the text message without having to avoid huge casualties - he was an undead, but not a murderer. However, the current situation no longer allows him to hold back, unless he intends to give up, and a killing spree is inevitable.

Two bolts of lightning fell silently from the sky, hitting the two Guardians who were focusing on the attack. If it had been their god-blessed ancestors, such an attack would have caused minor injuries at best, but for ordinary people who had only received part of their ancestors' abilities, a blow of this magnitude would have been fatal enough - the two poor fellows had not even been able to scream before they had become two pieces of coke.

Long locust-like arrows flew towards Rhaegar from afar a second later, a dense stream of arrows obscuring the sunlight and casting a huge shadow on the ground. Behind the arrows, a horde of Guardians were approaching him at breakneck speed, firing angry arrows at the intruders, and it was clear that the two dead Guardians' alarms had alarmed their compatriots.

Rhaeggar's scarn-like face was expressionless, only the blazing flames in his eyes showed his inner activity. The geist flicked his hands as a shield of fire appeared around him, and the arrows that pierced through the heavy armor were reduced to ashes as they approached, and at the same time, two slender dragons broke away from the shield and charged towards the guardians with lightning speed.

These Guardians who arrived first were the lowest of the tribe, just like their slain companions, they were both peacetime herders and wartime soldiers, and apart from a little magic, they were no different from the other mortals of this grassland, and they could only flee in all directions in the face of the magic dragon. With just one spell, Rhaegar eliminated at least twenty of his opponents and succeeded in dispersing them, no longer able to form the dense and terrifying rain of arrows just now.

Several earth elementals emerged from the ground as the Guardians were busy running away, and these six-meter-tall giants made of dirt were as nimble as fish in the ground, and the blow of their huge, heavy fists was enough to turn a bull into meat sauce, and within seconds of their appearance, at least two-thirds of the Guardians who narrowly escaped the dragon's attack fell forever at the feet of these terrifying elemental creatures.

A succession of magical attacks completely dampened the Guardians, who were not much stronger than ordinary warriors, and several survivors panicked to dodge the attacks from the elemental giants while running towards the distant camp, trying to meet up with their companions who were rushing to meet them, but the sudden appearance of two earth elementals between them and the camp made this hope come to naught, and when the group arrived, all they saw was the mutilated or charred corpses of their own compatriots.

Several yellow magic missiles appeared in the air with an angry chant, and then hit those earth elementals, and the strong energy quickly disintegrated the shells of these elemental bodies, destroying their existence in this world in an instant, and after a few magical lights, the earth elementals who lost their bodies were forced to return to their hometowns.

"Whoever you are, you must pay for your actions!" a thin, yellow-robed man with a staff made of thick animal bones suspended in the sky, roaring at Rhaegar wrapped in flames, and behind him, several old men in the same outfit but with wooden staff in their hands were suspended, and all of them looked at Rhaegar with anger in their eyes.

Rhaegar didn't speak, and at the same time as these old men appeared, he knew that he had encountered a group of strong opponents this time: the six old men all possessed at least the strength equivalent to that of a seventh-order mage, and the staff in the hand of the old man at the head faintly exuded powerful energy fluctuations, which was an energy that even he felt afraid of, only the gods of ancient times had such energy, obviously, that staff was a treasure left by a certain grassland guardian god.

In this case, Rhaegar suddenly did something that no one could have imagined - he suddenly dispersed the flame shield around his body, and then fell to the ground, bowing down to the beast bone staff in the old man's hand with the highest etiquette of a mage, while shouting some strange-sounding words.

These words did not belong to any race today, and even the most knowledgeable scholars could hardly fathom the meaning of the obscure pronunciation, but the old man at the head seemed to understand the words of the geist, and the anger on his face was quickly replaced by deep shock, and the next moment, the leader of the Guardian tribe spoke with Rhaegar in the same language.

A few minutes later, the elders of the six Guardian tribes fell to the ground at the same time, and all of them completely disarmed Rhaegar at this moment.

"I thought we were the only believers left of the great god Caroent," Crewe, the chief elder of the Guardians, said to Rhaegar with a hint of surprise, the anger over the killing of his fellow citizens gone, "we have traveled almost all of the steppes in search of your whereabouts. ”

"In fact," Rhaegar showed no less surprise than Crewe, "my ancestors left the steppe shortly after Caroent's fall. You know, as Caronte's right hand, we have our own duty, and it is for this duty that we have to move all together, and it is for this duty that I am back here today to ask for help from my compatriots, who are also Caronte's hands. ”

"What's wrong?" Crewe asked with a serious look on his face. As the chief elder of the left-handed tribe, from the secret records passed down from generation to generation, the old mage has long known the strength of those compatriots who are called the right hand of the gods—although the world believes that the hands of the guardian gods belong to the same steppe, only he knows that compared to the right hands that exist to deal with the enemies of those few and powerful gods, the left-hand tribe that specializes in resisting the large foreign invaders is simply a child in front of a strong man, and now, these extremely powerful right hands will actually ask for help from him, which fully explains the seriousness of the situation.

Rhaegar didn't answer his question immediately, his hand reached forward, and a staff about a meter long, with a yellow gem on the top, and a jet-black body appeared in his hand.

"The scepter in the right hand!" exclaimed several elders in unison, their eyes looking at the scepter with great fervor, as if a beggar who had been hungry for days and nights suddenly saw a large bag of gold coins.

"That's it," Rhaegar said calmly, "forcibly taken away by the God of Judgment, the most powerful weapon that the God Caroent was ready to bestow on the Right Hand tribe, was later given by Rhaegar to his own followers, who called it the Staff of Glory." ”

He took a deep breath and said, "My ancestors discovered its whereabouts after the fall of the gods, and in order to defeat the evil beings who occupied the scepter and reclaim the treasures that belonged to the guardian gods of the grasslands, we all left the grasslands. Countless years of fighting have cost countless people their lives," the geist voice said with a hint of pride, "but we've finally recaptured the scepter, and now, we've sent it back to where it belongs." ”