Although Samaras, the governor of the city of Setar, had killed himself in front of his stepbrother Baron Wood of Sheffield, the Shitar Elf warriors who were desperately resisting the attack of Snowdan and Nilda Gang Snow Ghosts at the Crossroads were still fighting them to the death in the sea of fire.

The door of the south camp of the crossroads joint venture suddenly opened, and Witt took the lead, brandishing the wood elf scimitar, leading the snow ghost cavalry of Nilda Gang and Snowdan to rush into the fire of the joint camp.

However, in just two moments, the shouts of killing in the sea of fire gradually stopped, and a wood elf dressed in the gorgeous costume of Setar was tied up by the snow ghosts and thrown in front of Baron Werther's horse, "Your Excellency Baron Qiqi, we have captured Samaras, the commander of the city defense of Certar. ”

"Say, who are you?" Werther's facial expression twitched slightly, the protruding cheekbones were red and white, and the dark blue glowing eyes shot a violent light, and he suddenly drew his horsewhip and lashed away at the wood elf on the ground dressed in Setar's gorgeous costume.

"Ahh The sudden lash made the wood elf, dressed in fine clothes and bound hands and feet, suddenly break his skin, and he cried out in pain for a moment, "You rebel! Bastard! Your Excellency has left the Crossroads Joint Venture safely, and your dream has been dashed! I am Olaf, Olaf, the warrior of Setar! Remember it for me! I will curse you heretic and traitor at Forrestal! ”

Riding a snow-white long-haired war horse, Werther slowly rode around the self-proclaimed Olaf, his face was distorted, his lips were pursed and his eyes were squinted, and he folded the horsewhip and put it in his bag, he suddenly shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and suddenly pulled out the wood elf scimitar from the scabbard, only to see the knife flash, a bloody human head fell heavily on the ground, and the red blood gushing out of his neck sprayed Werther's face, and the blood dripped along the blade's shining cold light: "You better go to Forrest to do your loyalty." ”

Several of the Nilda Gang Snow Ghosts, who thought they had captured the Governor of the City of Sethal, dropped their weapons and fell to their knees under Werther's horses in fright.

"Give me an order at once to kill all the surrendered Setar captives, and leave not a single one behind." Baron Werther closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if suppressing the nameless anger that had surged in his chest, and he took the corner of the White Wolf King's cloak in one hand, and wiped the blood splattered on the scimitar with it.

Setar's city defense brigade was completely wiped out by Werther, and few survivors of the Battle of the Crossroads escaped from the wolf king's minions. After the frenzied slaughter, the rebels of Snowdan and Nilda Gang finally began to clean up the messy battlefield, they collected the corpses of the Wood Elf warriors scattered all over the place, and pulled them to the west of the Nicholas Forest, about 5 or 6 miles from the Crossroads camp, where the Wood Elf Druids prayed in the woods to their main god, Forrest, that the fallen heroic spirits would be blessed by Forrest and reawakened as soon as possible.

The mutilated corpses were carried by the druids into the pit of the Black Goo, and they were concentrated in the dug pit, the walls of which were propped up with wooden stakes to prevent them from collapsing, and as the druids prayed again, the wooden door of the pit was closed by the druids, and these heroic spirits could no longer see the sunlight of Talk, and they slept here forever, waiting for Forrester to give their souls a new life.

The pit was high by the druids, like a hill in the woods, and the pit was filled with mutilated scimitars, each damage on the edge of the scimitar represented a sad story, and the top of the pit was planted by the druids with a wood elf prayer tree, and the wooden door of the pit was engraved with a carving knife with the beautiful Unocotal script.

“ЭОкад・ьана・тоок・кёог・ьоата・эосод”

(These people are buried here with glory)

The sun was setting down on his bright, piercing face, the busy scene of the day, as the druids left became cold and cold, the black jungle crow in the woods occasionally landed on the top of the tomb, and let out a wail, this lonely hill in the west of Nicholas's woods could only watch over the Colin Mountain on the other side of the woods, and the old seventy-nine steps of Colin Hill would silently accompany it until it was old.

The flames of the crossroads camp were finally extinguished by the Nilda Gang and Snowdan rebels, and after hastily repairs, the rebels under Commander Werther re-erected the tents and pointed tents, the southern camp gate of the crossroads camp was also reinforced again, and the guard wood elf patrols stood on the watchtower again, but they had been replaced by the snow ghost warriors of Nilda Height. Baron Werther sat on an ornate wooden rattan chair, his deep eyes fixed on the map made of snow wolf skin in front of him, and although his brother Baron Wood of Sheffield had sent a handwritten letter with the head of his stepbrother Samaras, he still felt a little uneasy in his heart. Witt knows Wood as much as he knows the proper use of a Machete.

"My brother Wood is a scheming fox, and I wanted to send him and Samaras to my father and brother. But now that we've become very passive, there's clearly no reason for us to be fratricidal again. "Witt knew very well in his heart that Wood not only did not help Samaras in the Battle of the Crossroads, killing every soldier of the Snow Ghosts, but also turned against him in front of the battle, creating a rare opportunity for him to crush the phalanx of the Setar City Defense Brigade, and now he has sent the head of Samaras, eradicating the barren land in his heart for many years, showing that Sheffield has no intention of making enemies with him at all, and his Snow Ghost Scout also confirms that Baron Wood of Sheffield has led the soldiers down Fredet Avenue back to Sheffield Town," Snowdown's Snow Ghost Officer, Matthew. What do you think of Sheffield. ”

"King of the Wolves, I don't think Sheffield deserves your trust, and we must be stationed at the crossroads, though we have no reasonable reason to war. Now Wood's forces seem to be no match for our Snow Ghosts in Snowdan and Nildagang, but in Snowdown, when the Snow Wolf always chooses a bear to doze off when he wants to eat a bear, Snowdan defeated Nildagang and controlled the entire territory of Nildagang, and it is also the strategy of the Snow Wolf that we have such a strong momentum today. Matthew, covered in white war paint, stepped forward and pointed to the crossroads on the strategic map, "This place we have now is the main transportation artery connecting Sheffield and Setar. Just hold on here. Unocal is just an isolated city to the east. ”

"So--Matthew, the snow wolf you're referring to is my brother, and I'm the dozing bear. I forgot that the jungle fox is really smart, and he can imitate us. I think I see what you mean. Witte thought for a moment.

"Wolf King, if my Matthew analogy is a bit overdone, please forgive me for this inappropriate analogy of a rough man." Matthew spread his hands with a smile on his face, but the white war streaks and smile on his face were not very harmonious.

"No, that's not what I meant at all. On the contrary, your analogy is apt, but I just don't want to be the sleepy bear being hunted. He remembered the scenes of the war during the day, and the Son of the Blade who delivered the news of Wood's movements, the stranger who came and went without a trace, "Well, we should be on guard at the crossroads. No, I think we'd better be stationed at the crossroads first and look for an opportunity to stir up a dispute with Sheffield. If necessary, killing Wood will solve my worries. Then come and ascend to the throne wholeheartedly. For the sake of the crown and the Wood Elf King's Scepter, I can't care about those gossip parrots. When the time comes, I will cut off their hands and feet, and no one will speak ill of me. ”

"If so, Wolf King, with all due respect, we may lose the great opportunity that Forrester has given you, now is the time for us to storm the royal city of Unocal and take the crown from the head of the Infant Wood Elf King, our battle line is too long, from Snowdan to Nilda Heights, through the White Dragon's Blood River to the Arral Valley, and from the Valley to the Crossroads, across most of the territory of Elvenia, the difficulties in supply make us have to fight for a quick victory, although we are called Snow Ghosts, But not really ghosts, warriors need to eat wood elf dumplings, they need to eat hunted wolf meat, and they need to drink El Tora wine. What's more, the walls of Unocal City can no longer withstand your strong army. I don't think we can wait now, and we can't afford to wait that long, in order to prevent Sheffield's possible sneak attack from behind, we can use the group of 1,000 or so royal city forbidden troops left after surrender to hold this crossroads joint camp, one is to let them rectify, and the other is to order them to be on duty day and night, and then form a patrol team from it, and patrol back and forth at the southern foot of Green Mountain-the western foot of Colin Mountain, and the east of Nicholas Woods, so that Sheffield's border patrol brigade is to put wings, There is no escape from our round-the-clock surveillance. Matthew gestured at a crossroads on the strategic map, pointing to a solid triangle, "not only a line of defense, but a clever move to choke Sheffield and Sattar by the throat." ”

"Well, then our back worries are completely gone! But I'll have to send a squad of Snowddown Snow Ghosts and a trusted officer to lead the babbling 'unicorns' of the royal city. Witt clapped his hands and laughed, and the worries in his heart were swept away, "So who wants to stay and guard this crossroads joint venture?" ”

"I do." One of the Wood Elves came out of the Snowy Ghost officers, and he knelt on the ground to receive orders from Baron Werther, "Since I joined your command, I have not established an inch of merit and are about to ascend to the throne of His Majesty. I, Tawabaha of Nildhagamp, am willing to lead my squad and the forbidden army of the Unocal Castle that have surrendered to us until the day you ascend the throne. ”

"People from afar. Warriors of the South! If you're guarding here, I think it's foolproof. Witt looked at Tawa Baha, the snowy ghost officer of Nilda Heights, his face painted with white cedar war streaks, his eyes shining with a sparkle of roof tiles, and the traditional twin tails of the Southern Wood Elves with his sideburns combed around his thick neck.