The morning sun shone through the lush foliage of the dense forest on the tired and hungry faces of the Phacton warriors.

Friedlier had been on the run in the woods for three days with the remnants of his warriors. They followed the stream in the hope of finding the Garland River, but the stream merged into a small lake early on the morning of the fourth day. Their expectations came to an abrupt end. The Facton warriors, who had lost their goals and expectations in the dense forest, were demoralized to the extreme. Still, they followed Friedreer on their way.

By noon, they had walked along the shore of the small lake, through the rugged mountain forests, to a lakeside clearing to rest.

Friedlier saw that the wound on Tyrell's arm had not healed for a long time, and he himself appeared to have been infected by the injury. Friedreel wanted to come forward and offer him a few words of concern, but before he could do so, Tyrell stood up sharply after wrapping the bandage around his injured arm again. He picked up his tomahawk and said to Friedley, "Taru, I've had enough of these damn woods, let me go fight those pursuers." ”

Before Friedlier could speak, he heard the sound of horses' hooves, and it was Aeoliel who had returned from the front.

"Taru, the coast has been found in the northwest direction!" Eoliel emerged from the forest on horseback and shouted at Friedlier.

"Do you see the estuary of the Garland River?" Friedlier asked him.

"No, Taru." "I've just climbed up to the treetops and see an ocean in the distance," said Ioliel, holding his horse by reining in his horse. ”

"Let's go, let's go to the beach first. If we're lucky, maybe we'll be able to find a boat on the shore. Friedlier waved to the resting warriors.

The warriors, who heard the hope, soon rushed to the seashore under the leadership of Friedlier and Ioliel. But the soldiers who were able to find the Featon ships, or at least a few fishing boats, were disappointed, because all they saw was a stinking bay full of dead fish.

"Why did those trees grow in the sea?!" A warrior walked to the sea, he looked at the trees on the shore and exclaimed.

Friedlier looked around the shore and saw that some of the trunks of the trees had been submerged by the sea, but the branches and canopies were still standing above the sea, except for a few low shrubs, whose foliage was now lapping against the waves.

"Oh my God, those trees really grew out of the sea." Tyrell said in surprise.

"No, Tyrell, no tree grows in the sea. It's the sea that floods here. Friedlier said.

"The sea flooded here?" Tellil asked, surprised.

"When I set out from Frosttrail Island, the water was at high tide all the time." "It seems that the waters have been rising continuously throughout the days we have been on our expedition. ”

"Oh?" Tellil scratched his head and said, "Does the sea only rise and not go down?" ”

"I guess so." Friedlier said, looking at the waves.

"Why is the sea like this, and it is still rising so high. It's something I've never seen before. Tyrell said.

"Taru, what do we do next?" Ioliel would come to the shore with the seven remaining cavalrymen, and he led his horse to Friedlier's side and asked him.

"We continued north along the coast to see if we could find any boats. Even if we can find a fisherman's boat, at least then some of us might be able to go to Watch Island first. "Aeolil, you scout north, keep an eye on the sea, and if you see a naval ship of Azor, come back quickly." ”

"Taru!" Eoliel stumbled and headed north with his few horsemen.

"Why are there so many dead fish, is the sea water here poisonous?" Tyrell said, looking at the dead fish in the sea.

"Perhaps." "Tyrell, you need to treat your wound as soon as possible. ”

"No big deal." "But, Taru, I'm hungry. I haven't eaten for a day. ”

"Let's go then, I hope we can find a village." Friedlier spoke to Tyrell and motioned for the warrior to move on.

The warrior walked with Friedlier for a while. While passing through the half-flooded seaside woods, Friedreel, who was at the front of the line, suddenly heard the sound of horses' hooves in front of the woods, but the rhythm of the horses' hooves was messy, and Friedlier did not wait for the horse's hooves to approach, so he cautiously asked into the dense forest, "Ioll?" Is that you? ”

No one answered.

Friedlier immediately pulled out the "night", he raised his hand and signaled the warriors to be quiet and ready for battle.

After a moment's silence, the sound of horses' hooves came near, and yet a horseless horse came out of the woods, its back empty, and a pair of stirrups dangling at its sides. Seeing this, Tyrell and one of the warriors stepped forward to inspect it, but before they could fully approach the horse, Friedreel suddenly shouted at him, "That's our horse!" There are enemies! Come back! ”

Tyrel immediately raised his shield and retreated, and before the panicked soldiers around him could run back, an arrow from the depths of the forest was struck in the neck.

Friedlier yelled at Tyrell and the soldiers behind him, "Retreat! ”

However, the Featon warriors, who had endured hunger for many days in the dense forest, could no longer run fast. Although they maintain their belligerent beliefs, their physical strength has reached a low point.

Emerging from the dense forest, the warriors of Azor marched quickly in a tight formation, and soon they caught up with the fleeing Phetunians and forced them into a clearing jutting into the sea.

Faced with the well-groomed, outnumbered, and approaching Asor's army in a long formation of shields and spears, the Featon warriors nervously regrouped along the coast. Friedlier shouted orders to the fighters to stabilize them. Under Friedlier's command, the Featon warriors quickly raised their shields and formed formations, huddled into dense battle groups in anticipation of the enemy's approach.

The Azor soldiers stopped as they approached the Pheton only fifty paces. Their ranks had reached deep into the forest, and Friedreel could not estimate their exact number, but with only the visible warriors at the moment, Friedreel felt that they numbered more than three thousand.

Friedlier looked at the Yasol soldiers not far away, and he saw that their well-armed, onion-screwing bowl-shaped helmets protected their heads, and above them, there were slender caps, and Friedlier looked at the tips of their hats, their ranks were extremely neat, and the tips of their hats showed a straight line. He also saw that they were dressed in brown robes, wearing metallic chain mail, and in the center of their chests, one by one black round heart armor that seemed to show a faint human face looked extremely terrifying.

Just as Friedlier was marveling at the strength of a force like Yasor, a general with a scarred face, a thick black beard, and a tawny Yasol robe appeared from behind the spear-raising phalanx on a tall black war horse.

He reined in his horse, and two strong guards fell to his knees for him to dismount and trample. He dismounted and walked slowly to his own formation, and after looking contemptuously at the enemies in front of him, he suddenly opened his mouth to say a few words to the nervous, shield-clinging Phettons.

"Fuck you!" Naturally, Tyrell didn't understand Atholl, and he replied loudly, "Come and fight me if you have one." Dog mongrel. ”

The general squinted at Tyrell and grinned. Then, he beckoned the soldiers to bring out a man.

Friedlear saw that what had been brought out from behind by the Azor soldiers was a Phetton man with ugly sea monster symbols painted on his clothes. He immediately realized that it was a prisoner of war from Featon.

"Surrender! Our ancestors will forgive us. The captured warrior shouted at Friedrear and the other Featon warriors.

Tyrell was furious, and he yelled, "This bastard thing. The scum of Pheaton. Then he asked Friedlier beside him, "How can this son of a bitch understand the Yasol language?" ”

"It should be a warrior who was captured on the Gold Coast or in the Badlands Northlands." Friedlier said.

"Son of a bitch." Tyrell cursed fiercely.

"Surrender, brothers, the Athollians will not harm us." The captives continued to persuade them to surrender.

In the face of the captive's constant lobbying, Tyrell suddenly took out two red mushrooms from his waist and swallowed them in his mouth.

"Tyrell, what are you doing!" Friedleer noticed Tyrell's actions and hurriedly yelled at him, "Don't you want to die? ”

"Taru, let me follow in the footsteps of my ancestors. I don't want to be so humiliated, I'm going to die in battle, I'm going to follow my ancestors with all my glory. The louder he spoke, the more he spoke, the red mushroom's toxin making him go crazy. His eyes were bloodshot, and he dropped the shield in his left hand and snatched the sword from the hand of one of the warriors beside him.

With an axe in one hand and a sword in the other, he glared angrily at the captive and the general of Azor.

"Don't! Tylil! ”

However, Friedrier was still a step too late, and Tyrell roared and squeezed out the shield of the warriors. Wielding his sword and axe, he rushed straight at the Yasol general.

On the way to the enemy's position, an enemy fired arrows at him. But Tyrell, who had fallen into madness, was under the effect of the mushroom, and he did not have the slightest fear or flinch when seven or eight arrows hit his body. He strode forward as if he were dead.

The general of Azor watched Tyrell rush towards him with contempt, and he sneered, then waved his hand to order the archers not to send arrows. At the same time, in the face of Tyrell, who was rushing towards him, he drew his weapon from his waist, a strange double-edged scimitar covered in patterns. With a scimitar in hand, he stood alone in front of the formation, waiting for Tyrell to approach.

Tylir swung his big axe, and General Yazor took out his sword to block, and between the swords and swords, the two immediately fell into a fierce fight. Despite Tyrell's bravery, the two fought not long before the more swift general Azor quickly left a wound on Tyrell.

Under the effect of the crazy mushroom, Tyrell didn't feel the pain at all, his eyes were red, and at this moment, he only had one thought in his heart, that is, to kill the person in front of him. However, it was clear that the general was even more skilled in fighting, and after reflexively dodging a slash from Tyrell, he shaved Tylil's head off his body.

Friedreel was shocked to witness Tyrell beheaded by a hawk, and he couldn't help but feel a great sense of grief and anger. He stared at the general of Azore, who had killed Tyrell. He held the night tightly, he felt that the blood in his body had begun to boil and burn, and he felt as if a flame was about to emerge from his eyes.

Just as Friedlier gritted his teeth and was about to give the order to everyone, ready to launch a final charge against the enemy. He suddenly saw that the general of Azor had ordered Azor's army to turn back and begin to retreat slowly.

Surprised to look at Friedlier, who had retreated from Athore's army, he also saw that only the general was still standing in place and did not retreat.

Friedreel was stunned for a moment, he had thought that this general of Azor had ordered the army to retreat in order to fight him alone. But just as he thought so, and was about to go out to fight him, he saw the general suddenly raise his scimitar in his hand and point it at his own army.

When Friedlier suddenly realized that his scimitar might not be aimed at him and the warriors around him, it was too late. Before Friedlier could turn around, he felt a darkness behind him, and a great wave came from the sea, which instantly slapped him and the warriors beside him into the waves, and swept them away on the edge of the forest.

When Friedlier wakes up wet and wet, he finds that his hands are shackled and the "Nightfall" he had previously held in his hands is nowhere to be found. He looked up and saw that he was surrounded by the fallen and captured Featon warriors, as well as the heavily armed Azor soldiers who were escorting them up.

Two Yasol soldiers pulled Friedreel up from the ground. They nudged him towards the scarred general of Athore. The general grinned at Friedreel, and in a mocking tone, approached Friedreel and said a few words of Yasor.

Friedreer spat at him, but he couldn't dodge it due to the distance, and Friedreer's saliva hit him in the ear.

Friedlier also got a few punches for his saliva, but he felt it was worth it, because he had to take out his anger on the newly dead Ioliel and Tylil anyway, even if it was only done in this way for now.

Friedlier was escorted away by the Assor soldiers, along with the other captured Featon soldiers, and they made their way through the dense forest to Azor's barracks. Along the way, Friedlier kept an eye on him, and he found that there were only about fifty or sixty captured Featon soldiers, and he thought that many of the other warriors must have been swept into the sea or struck to the ground by the moment the waves hit.

Friedliel sighed as he had hoped that Iollil had not been killed, but for now it seemed that he must have been shot in an ambush while exploring the path, so he had only seen his horses.

By the time he reached the Yasol barracks, it was already dark, and Friedlier had been separated from the other prisoners of war by the Yasol soldiers, and instead of being locked in a wooden mass cage, he was chained to a large conspicuous wooden stake in the camp.

One of the Yasol soldiers viciously fed Friedreel a few mouthfuls of water, then threw him a naan.

No soldiers had been here until the next morning, and although Friedlier's mind was full of thoughts during the night, extreme exhaustion made him crouch under the large wooden stake and fall asleep quickly.

As Friedlier had expected, the next morning, the whole camp began, and all the prisoners of war had set out with the army of Athore.

Along the way, captured Featon warriors were subjected to extremely strict control and treatment, with some dying on the road from injuries and extreme fatigue. Friedlier watched them fall in pain, but could not do anything. He felt helpless and sad like never before, and he even began to regret why he hadn't rushed to the enemy with Tyrel in the first place. Friedlier was also humiliated by the difficulty of walking in shackles, and he even wanted to give it a go and die here instantly.

The shackles on his feet made it difficult for him to walk, and every step he took was a great test for him, but whenever Friedlier felt that he was about to collapse, he was about to yell and pounce on the Athore soldiers beside him to give it a go, and Cybeliss would always pop up in his mind, her pure and innocent smile and bright sunny face had become the spiritual source of Friedley's persistence at the moment. He wanted to see her again.

On a breezy night, Azor's army camped into the deserted village of Garland. The Featon prisoners of war were kept in the cattle shed, and Friedley, as usual, was given special care, locked to a stake in front of a courtyard gate.

In the middle of the night, a motorcade drove into the village where Azor's army was located. Several civilians dressed in fine clothes stepped out of the tent behind the carriage and entered the courtyard where Friedlier was tethered. Friedlier saw them led into the house by the soldiers, and was received by the Scarface General who had killed Tyrell.

They talked for a while, and General Scarface took them to the cowshed where the Facton prisoners of war were being held. There was another conversation, and a dozen sturdy Featon warriors in shackles were taken out of the cowshed by the Athore soldiers, and they were escorted to the approaching wagon. After that, a few people came to Friedlier with curiosity.

They examined Friedlier for a moment, and then, in Asor, they talked to Scar General. Friedreer could vaguely sense from their conversation that they seemed to be making a deal, haggling. At this time, looking at the captives who had been taken away, Friedlier realized why this general of Yazol did not destroy them in one fell swoop when he was at the seaside, but took great pains to persuade them to surrender. It turned out that he was trafficking foreign prisoners of war to human traffickers.

However, it seems that because of the price, in the end, Friedlier was not taken away by the group, and he continued to stay here.

Early the next morning, Friedlier dragged his heavy shackles and began his uncertain journey with Azor's army.