Somewhere in the Great Eastern Forest as Esher tailgated and eavesdropped on Gelbod's conversations in the lower city.

"This is it." Yogett stopped satisfied, the glow of the emblem in his hand flickering, pulled by the invisible force of gravity all the way down, all the way to the deepest part of the soil. Without any further instructions from him, several black knights with shovels had already stepped forward and started digging in place.

Yogett closed his eyes, relieved. He led this team of Death Knights deep into the eastern forest, and finally gained something by driving the Pander royal emblem from Sir Dalyan in his palm with the cruel secret ritual recorded in the ancient books of the sect. Along the way, he didn't know how many Noldor elves were slit throats by him, and poured blood on the emblem, so that the faint smell of blood leaked under the skin of the ten fingers at some point. When the Raven stays in Yogget's hands, it is always restless. This small force was limited in number and naturally limited in supplies, and in fact after a week of deep penetration into the eastern forest, they were in a dilemma of running out of dry food. But as Yogett had said, the Noldor elves were treasures, their blood resonating subtly with magical objects, and their body fat was the fuel for their endurance...... Naturally, it can also be used as food for hunger in extreme situations.

However, as the small force grew closer to Eraclair, it became increasingly difficult for them to maintain a covert track. On several occasions, they had come close to stepping into the carefully arranged encirclement of the Noldor Patrol, and if it weren't for the timely warning of the causf, they would have been unable to break through the rain of arrows. Even so, they were severely attritional, and even Jogett inevitably hung up. But all these efforts and sacrifices will only be rewarded a thousand times over.

"Goddess, I, Yogget, your most loyal and fervent believer, will surely root my ideal kingdom in Pande, and dedicate myself to your ......" Yogot clasped his fingers on his chest and prayed silently. At this moment, he heard the sound of rustling in the sky, as if something was shuttling through the dense forest at high speed, and in an instant it went from far to near, and the movement was as shocking as thunder. Before Yogett could react, "Whoa"! A figure with batwing wings had broken through the tangled canopy and fell heavily, smashing a large hollow hole in the ground, shattering branches and leaves falling on him in a flutter. That's the demonized Trevor Bronson, the depraved old Pander Protector. It's just that his current appearance is extremely embarrassing, a huge crack zigzags through the wing membranes on both sides, and almost tears his body in half, the blood as thick as magma flows freely, and the rich smell of sulfur permeates the air.

It took a while for Trevor to get up from the pit, and he limped over to Yogot and whispered, "Isulandil has sensed our movements, and he shot an arrow at me in Eraclair." I can't match the power of the demigod, and he's coming in this direction at a rapid pace right now. Do you want to retreat? ”

"There's no need." Yogett let go of his hands and replied nonchalantly, "You just delay a little longer, and let him discover this place as late as possible." ”

Trevor looked at the emblem ring in Yogget's hand, "You found it?" ”

Yogett nodded, picked up a shovel himself, and joined the Black Knight to dig. Trevor looked up at the forest dome that had been smashed out of a gap by himself, and the blue sky was pouring down. His hideous face tensed, and his tattered bat's wings spread out behind him, flapping and oscillating with a powerful current. He soared into the sky and flew out towards the east.

"Speed." Yogett took a deep breath and tuck up the wide cuffs of the priest's robe. He thrust the shovel into the soft dirt and lifted it aside. As he joined, the surrounding black knights also sped up their movements.

"Click", soon, the shovel touched something hard, making a stiff sound, and it was difficult to move in. Then the whole picture of the thing revealed itself under the repeated rise and fall of the shovel. It was a silver coffin, and the lid was an intricate relief of a flock of griffons, with intricate and mysterious patterns entwined around the edges. Although it has been buried beneath the surface for an unknown amount of time, it still retains its brilliant luster when it is unearthed. Joggett, who was well versed in Pande's ancient script, slowly read the inscriptions engraved between the patterns: "Here rests...... Continental ...... 1st place...... Emperor...... The End of the Dark Age...... He is also the conqueror of the realms. His surname is his first name, and his first name is the name of the mainland...... Guarded by the sphinx, the prodigal son of the Kavala family rests here; Under the protection of the Mithril Wall, the monarch of the Pender Empire rests here - yes! That's it! Yogett finally couldn't help himself, and he looked ecstatic. He cut a deep wound in his wrist with a knife, allowing blood to drip onto the coffin. Obscure syllables emanated from Yogett's mouth, and as the rhythm ebbed and fell, the surface of the coffin rose in dense blood-colored lines, like entangled chains, but the movement was intermittent, as if violently slashed by some invisible blade. It was only with the chanting of the incantation that those rift-like gaps began to slowly close, and the lines were interlocking with each other, glowing with a strange dark red light.

"The cross of retrograde, the karmic soil of destruction; The dry bones of the old king, the new life of the demon king; Jogot's voice became more and more urgent, and he raised his knife, cut off his entire left hand, and smeared a huge blood cross on the silver coffin with the cut of his wrist, "Flesh and blood of believers, feast of punishment!" At the call of the goddess, follow my guidance, and come quickly! Rush down! Yogert roared the last few syllables in a hoarse voice, watching as his severed palm gradually dissolved on the lid of the coffin like ice and snow, staining the soaring griffons a horrible red-white. The blood cross boiled. As if in response to Yogget's call, there was a heavy, tidal wave of breathing from the depths of the coffin. Yogett took a few steps back, fell to his knees, and bowed reverently to the coffin.

"Click!" A bone claw pierced the lid of the Mithril coffin, extending from the center of the Blood Cross into the sky. Yogett kneeled forward, raised the ring above his head with both hands, and handed it to the bone claw.

Shout!

The wind roared, and a slender feathered arrow broke the wrist of the bone claw, and the cluster of arrows sank into the coffin with unparalleled might. The broken claw and the emblem fell aside. At the same time, Trevor fell from the sky again, smashing several ancient trees and unable to get up for a long time.

"You've made a mistake, demigod Isurandil," Jogett rolled behind the coffin, his laughter sounding cheerful, though a little embarrassed, "you should have killed me with that miraculous arrow." ”