Modrian stared intently at the noisy refugees, and his extraordinary gaze could easily see the madness in the eyes of those people, but also some people who were in a hurry.

Even though the clothes are similar, the complexion cannot deceive people, which is different from the crazy and resentful complexion of those real refugees.

"How much of Valoran's territory are occupied by the refugees gathered here?" Modrian asked softly, his brown eyes glinting with a different emotion.

"More than half." Crane glanced at the lord, lowered his head, and replied in a deep voice.

"Half!" Modrian muttered, his eyes swept over the frenzied refugees who had gathered over a thousand people, then he turned to the location of Lakstark Fortress and waved his hand coldly.

"Let's get started!"

In the usual case, he might have thought about dispersing everyone at the foot of the mountain, and then screened the mastermind behind the capture one by one.

It's just that now it's different, Valoran is destined to be the center of attention in this kingdom turmoil, so why not add some blood to this upcoming lively scene, and make the many forces who are playing tricks more sober.

Smack!

Red fireworks burst out in the sky above Fort Digwo, turning into a banner with a red-bottomed axe blade, condensing in the sky for a long time.

At the foot of the mountain, at the sight of the fireworks in the sky, the resentful refugees were slightly stunned, and then they changed to their previous state, noisy, wanting to enter the city halfway up the mountain, where they would be offered what they had always dreamed of.

Knock knock! Knock knock!

The sound of neat footsteps coming from the mountain road, like a majestic and majestic piano music, tugged at everyone's heartstrings, but for the secret agent with a hidden intention, it turned into a torturous urging song.

Not only was there movement from the mountain peaks, but soldiers in silver armor were faintly visible in all directions.

These were the Demacian soldiers stationed at Fort Digvo, the number was small, only seven hundred, but it was quite easy to destroy the group of helpless refugees in front of them.

When the enemy appears in front of them, the Demacian soldiers don't care about anything else, as a battle-hardened military force within the Demacian Empire, they have been fighting against the Noxian Empire all their lives, and kindness and mercy do not exist, even if these people seem so weak.

With vigorous steps, the Demacian soldier held a silver shield and waved the blade in his hand, bringing up a large patch of blood.

The killing is on!

Or rather, a massacre, because the Demacian soldiers completely surrounded all the gathered refugees, leaving no margin to escape.

The rich smell of blood awakened the fear that these refugees had been dominated by the gnolwolf soldiers, crying, begging for mercy, grief, wanting to pray that the private soldiers in front of them, who obviously belonged to the nobility, would let them go, how pitiful they looked, but forgot their own faces before.

Before the bloody death, life is different, but the purpose is the same and the desire to survive.

Unfortunately, the killing of the Demacian soldiers did not stop at all, but became more rapid, and a group of refugees who had long since lost their resistance could not afford to fight the real battle they longed for.

"Boring!"

Modrian shook his head slightly, the killing at the foot of the mountain was a little unexpected, and there was no hidden force to jump out to stop it at this moment, and in vain he also brought the sword captain Tiana Crownguard, and the dreadnought vanguard legionnaires.

"Crane, you'll take care of the rest." Modrian smelled the smell of blood wafting over, and showed an intoxicated expression, then patted Crane on the shoulder and commanded.

"Then let's go back."

Modrian looked at Tiana beside him, as cold and serious as usual, could it be that everyone in the Crown Guard family is like this?

Abandoning the boring thoughts in his mind, he returned to Noxtola, embedded in the mountain, praying that the action of the fortress of Laxstak was not over, and he was looking forward to Svein's strength.

......................

Lakstak Fortress, a shadowy jungle nearby.

On the bare branches stood a few crows, chirping hoarsely, their scarlet eyes silently gazing at the black-cloaked figures gathered together.

When the faint mist covered the sky, the group of hiddenrs who peeked at the fortress couldn't control their breath, because a strange and terrifying aura suddenly appeared in the spiritual perception.

"Damn it, let's go!!"

Hiss!

The black shadow in the lead took out a spell scroll from the cloak and tore it apart directly, and bursts of spatial fluctuations surged in front of him, forming a black-red portal, and mysterious and strange patterns were engraved on the edge of the illusory door.

The other hiddenrs immediately ran towards the portal without being instructed, and their swift movements were comparable to those of some mid- and low-level assassins.

But alas, they acted too late.

The crow on the branches suddenly flapped its wings and soared, like an arrow off the string, and slammed into the black-red portal that had just formed.

Burst!

Strange things happened, and the portal, which represented the hope of the hidden, turned into foam, and the smoke dissipated, as if there was a strong force that directly cut off the location of the portal and the condensed spell energy.

"Array!"

The retreat was broken, and the dark shadows led by them were resolute, and when hope was gone, they formed a circular defensive array back to back with each other, hoping to face the approaching enemy.

The rising wind and waves blew away the light mist, and Svein was suspended in mid-air, gently tightening his simple coat draped outside, and looking down at the poor fellows with a flat face, they had no idea that they had been watched by the flock of ravens scattered around them since they came to the vicinity of Lakstar Fortress.

"Your Majesty, we didn't know this was your territory, otherwise we wouldn't have offended you." The black shadow led by him lifted the black cloak, revealing an old mage holding a purple-black staff, and judging by his mental fluctuations, he was actually a high-level spellcaster.

"Please give us a chance, maybe you are the same as we seek."

"Dark blasphemy priests?" Svein fell from the sky, the black cane in his hand hitting the ground, and he smelled something similar, like a demon in his body, like an abyssal passage sealed by Cana in Lakstak Fortress.

"You're here for the Abyss Passage?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, that's why Her Majesty sent us behind us!" The old mage put himself very low, because he had already felt the unfathomable power on the other side, and it was most likely a legendary crown.

"If you need a hand, I think we can help a little!"

"Are you afraid of me?" Svein said with a chuckle, his left hand slowly reaching out from the hem of his coat. "I'm glad I am, but it's not like blasphemy against the priests, after all, even the gods can't kill you who are greedy."

Hearing this, the old mage's expression was solemn, he couldn't figure out the thoughts of the person in front of him, and finally said in a low voice: "Your Majesty, I know that you are a legend, but there is also a demon lord standing behind us, you have to think about it carefully." ”

"Can you know the organization behind you? I'm interested. Svein didn't answer, but looked at the old mage with interest.

He loved darkness, especially the darkness that could steal the power of the gods and bring fear, and these blasphemous priests seemed to have such powers.