Although Merkel has no intention of paying attention to everything in the Forest of Life, she also unleashes the power of death in the entire kingdom of God.

These liquid death forces were surging, but in an instant, the entire forest of life was flooded, trees toppled, living beings were devastated, countless resentful spirits died in mourning, turned into nourishment for the power of death, and souls became a supplement for resentful spirits.

Black clouds roll, turbid waves surge.

A large number of crows and resentful spirits rushed to the periphery of the Mother of Life tree like moths to a fire.

They hissed, and the rays of death, the ropes of death, spread and stretched in the dark space, as if an invisible hand was about to completely devour Princess Cynthia and the others.

In the confined space, the elven maidens struggled, chanting incantations incantations, and the feathered arrows in their hands shot from time to time, striking ravens and wraiths.

As natural archers, the range of their bows and arrows is extremely long, far exceeding that of Terran archers.

The bows and arrows they use are more resilient and powerful, and have natural magical properties, which are multiply the lethality of enemies, especially the dead.

At this point, they were running out of feathered arrows and could only use magic arrows.

On the bowstring, there was a constant condensation of white blazing holy light.

These rays of light waned at first, but when the bowstring was sent, the arrows of light, which had only the energy of spark, grew stronger, and by the time they reached the spirits and ravens, they were already burning like a blazing sun.

Then, it's bursting.

The holy light burst sharply, covering the surrounding area for tens of meters.

It's blazing.

It can envelop dozens of crows or resentful spirits in the surrounding area, and the power of intense purification is vigorous. In an instant, these low-level dead creatures were reduced to nothing.

Black light like a tide.

The number of ravens and wraiths grows, converging into an endless tide.

However. This black tsunami-like army of death met unprecedented resistance in the face of this blazing white embankment.

As far as the white light can see. All power melts into the sunlight like snowflakes.

No matter how shocking the tsunami is and death is pouring out, it always turns to ashes under the white flames.

Ripples of death resisted the white light.

Roaring, roaring, unwilling.

A noisy voice rang in Princess Cynthia's ears.

She was quietly directing, and at the same time, from time to time, inexplicable arrows disappeared in her hands, her arrows were still very frequent, just ordinary white feather arrows, with no special abilities, and even the arrows seemed to be just ordinary life branches. Just sharpen it simply. Decorate the tail with white feathers.

However, in her hands, these ordinary white-feathered arrows became sharp weapons destined to be stained with blood and kill.

Silent and elusive.

Herson's feelings reappeared in the presence of the wraiths and ravens.

However, Cynthia clearly has a special ability, and her shots are always hit, and they are always hit by high-level ravens or wraiths hidden in the clan.

These intelligent creatures are much more cunning than those cannon fodder-level ravens and wraiths.

Of course, not only have these guys evolved their brains to the level of the human race, but their bodies are also more powerful.

The leaders of the Ravens tend to be more dying in color, more intense and quintessential in their coat, and look darker and brighter.

And the gray resentful spirit. Those who were born commanders were often no longer gray and mist, but pure ink, topped with a solid layer of thin armor condensed by the power of death.

This thin armor can almost allow them to ignore some magical attacks.

Although they are much more powerful, however. But he also spared his life even more.

They always hide behind the group, have speed and magical abilities that distinguish them from the general public, and are even less resourceful than humans. They are extremely good at seizing opportunities. Always able to survive the war.

Just because they die doesn't mean that the entire army of ravens and wraiths can leave them.

Their role is more reflected in the command of the battle. Instead of charging into battle.

These guys hid in the rear, ruthlessly driving their men into the cover of the Holy Light, turning to ashes.

And they themselves have remained indifferent. Just let his men die one by one, which is obviously to exhaust the magic power and bows of the elven female guards through these cannon fodder. Thus waiting for an opportunity to win.

This kind of strategy can be described as sinister.

Merkel gave them the task of grinding all the creatures of the Forest of Life to death in numbers, making them part of themselves.

And these cannon fodder are renewable resources, which can be sacrificed completely, even if in total.

Ravens and Wraiths kept moving towards the Light, and it seemed that the killing of the Elven Princess was far away. However, Cynthia knew that they would not support it to the end.

These ravens and wraiths are just cheap consumables, and although they still have a lot of branches and leaves of the Mother Tree of Life in their hands to replenish their magic and physical energy, there is always a time when this replenishment is exhausted, and that is the moment when they fail.

Although their desperate resistance will prolong this possibility indefinitely, defeat is inevitable.

And Princess Cynthia's arrows are the only guarantee of delaying this defeat. She has a special spiritual sense, and she can always find those crows or resentful spirits with extremely powerful souls in the middle of battles, and then, it is against these boss-level guys.

White Feather Volley.

The aura of the mighty ravens hidden in the shadows faded and then disappeared completely, and the resentful spirits in thin armor in the waves of the sea could not stop the most humble white feather arrows in the world, although their magic resistance was amazing.

Arrows flash.

There was no process or trace, only the hum of the bowstring and the sound of arrows piercing through the body.

One by one, the crows died under the strange arrows, and the ghosts vanished.

From time to time, the wraiths are in turmoil.

The ravens in the air also hissed incessantly, for their leader, and for that deadly fear.

It's a deterrent, even for these low-level necromancers who aren't quite sane.

Fortunately, the number of ravens seems to be endless, and the wraiths are constantly reborn in the whirlpool of the sea, and they are once again engaged in new battles.

This kind of conquest will only cause a moment of panic for the Ravens and Wraiths, and it will soon be replenished by the powerful Necromancer, so that the attack will be in order again.

For the elves, a protracted war is not a good thing, and as time passes, the aftermath begins to show.

They didn't know how many undead they had killed, how many magic arrows they had shot, how many life magic they had thrown, their bodies were gradually exhausted, their mental power began to be exhausted, their muscles were sore, and their heads were splitting.

Even the mere pull of the bowstring requires all the strength of the body, and every time the baptism of light magic is released, all the magic is exhausted.

The tree of life has run out of leaves.

Whether it is magic or body, it can no longer be recovered in a short time, which means that the war is lost.

An air of despair hung over the faces of each of the maids, who, though they were mighty warriors, were weak when they ran out of ammunition.

Desperately mobilizing the last shred of strength and sending out the last trace of attack.

"Princess, we've done our best, I'm afraid we won't be able to protect you anymore." Sissel's eyes were sad, looking at Princess Cynthia in the center, this was the last glance, maybe the next moment they would turn into ugly and disgusting resentful spirits, which made their hearts ache faintly.

Cynthia lowered her bow and arrow, and a bright light lit up from her chest.

It was a small, shell-like object.

"Ah, it's the Ancient Ship of Life. Princess, no, you'll die—" The maids looked terrified, and they tried to stop their princess, but they couldn't even seem to stop it. (To be continued.) )