He thought he would have to wait a long time, after all, Kerryben's injuries looked so horrific and serious, but before he could paced back and forth in the narrow hallway outside the room, the closed door was opened, and the black-haired spellcaster stood in the doorway, pale, shallow and rapid breathing, and looking tired- Every elf who survived that dangerous mission was tired, but unlike them, the caster looked like he had been cut off or robbed of a part of his essence, and it wouldn't be surprising if he collapsed and fell asleep.

Cremar nodded, even such a small gesture would have made him feel difficult now, an elven warrior helped him sit down on a chair in the room, but the souls of the other world preferred to sleep directly on the floor, which was covered with a white bearskin carpet anyway.

The eldest elven priest eagerly walked over to observe Kerribben's condition, and to his great delight, the ominous black fog that shrouded the elven ranger's wounds had dissipated, he glanced at Cremar, got a sure look, and then tore open a healing scroll, the scroll emitted a soft white light, and the white light fell on Kerribben's body softly like a floating snowflake, and the bleeding immediately stopped, the new muscles and tendons, and the skin grew and stretched like spring buds and petals, and the pain disappeared from the young elf's face, and the breathing gradually changed from difficulty to comfort。

A female elf handed over a silver cup containing glittering eaux-de-vie, and Cremar took it and drank it down, the clean water was still cold in his mouth, and when it reached his throat it became warm and even hot, and it spread from the depths of his body to every vein, and from every vein to his fingertips and toes. He shuddered slightly, and the cup almost slipped between his fingers, "You need to rest." The female elf said, taking the cup, and her other hand rested gently on the caster's shoulder to prevent him from falling off the chair - she had similar blonde hair and eyes as green as new leaves, and Cremar turned her head almost immediately—he knew it was rude, but he was deeply afraid, afraid that the next moment she would watch him smile and say his name, like Ilda...... The souls of the other world don't want to know her name at all, they are at war, and she ...... You can die at any time.

Fortunately, the silence between them was quickly broken, "Orc." Birdwin's servant panted and said, "The Lord told the wounded and the mages who needed to rest to retreat to the Twin Towers. ”

The twin towers he was talking about were the two towers that stood between the heavy fortress, the double walls and the inner city, one for the elves and the other for the human mages, and of course Cremar was with Kerribben.

- Maybe we should leave when everyone has no time to care about us, the former undead slapping his jawbone in amusement, I know they have a hidden underground passage.

- Kerry had been asleep, and he didn't necessarily know what was going on. The soul of the other world said weakly, he knew for the first time that the soul would also spin under his feet, and his eyes would be black.

- That's normal, the lich said, you prayed to Angeleth, the god of life of the elves, didn't you?

The soul of the other world was taken aback, and the reason why it was small was because he was now hanging a weak DFF.

Yes, as he slit his arms and watched his blood, which had been filled with points of light and thus become as bright and shining as mercury, flowed down, the souls of the other world, who had been educated in atheism for more than ten years, prayed not to the gods of his world, without a hint of blasphemy or contempt, but to the god of the elves, Angeleth, who did not know how to pray, nor the "supreme" and "love" and "gospels" that he had heard in his world Whether he could win the favor of the gods of another world, he stammered and prayed incoherently, calling out the name of Angeleth, hoping that he would cast his eyes on this place, to his dearest child, an upright and pure elf, and begged him to allow his blood to work in the body of Kerribben as it should, rightly and correctly, and not to let Kerryben die, and not to make Kerryburn the first (only?) octopus elf ever.

- Angel Rose responded to me?

- Maybe. The former immortal said that for a moment he couldn't help but want to curl up and stuff himself in any dark corner, and at the same time felt nauseous and wanted to vomit and eat something sour.

- But I'm not an elf, the soul of the other world said in a daze, and I don't believe in Angeleth either.

- Who knows, said the lich impatiently, "Anyway, your spirit is nimble, and you don't grow eight arms."

- Well, the soul of the other world said, then, the rest is up to you, what if...... He hesitated, if not...... No...... I mean, things that could threaten our lives happen, you can ...... Staying here for a while?

- It depends, the lich said, but I promise I won't cry out and jump up and run away because of a feather that hit my head.

- Thank you, the soul of the other world said happily, and then he fell defenselessly.

The lich was in no hurry to ascend, he would not be able to manipulate the body even if he had risen to the surface of the sea before the allotted time came, he had already tried—he remained silently in place, and the soul, which looked like a large mass of colorless jellyfish, was slowly sinking from the surface to the depths—where he was, and he "watched" it, its outline still so blurred, but it was certain that it was more solid than when the undead first saw it.

It was fragile, timid, and ignorant, and the soul of a goblin might be stronger than it, and the lich had thought it was a useless liability, or a special tool of punishment, and he taught it to use the magic contained in the body's veins to cast spells, for he never thought that this lowly thief could become a mage- Its mental power was not so strong in the beginning, or more accurately, weak and sluggish, and the mistakes and failures it made in the process of learning were enough to drive a dragon that had lived for thousands of years crazy.

It grew more skilled and even adept at casting spells, but the lich thought it had more to do with the blood flowing through the body - he had to admit that he had made a mistake, and the former undead thought that it might not have been a simple accident.

A god, even a good god, would not listen to the prayers of an unbeliever, and in their world an unbeliever is less worthy of favor than a hypocrite, for the latter at least had faith, even if he was not religious—no unbeliever could receive an answer from the god at the first prayer, even if he knelt down to an evil god and sacrificed the life of a village or a city Because their unbelief will shake the foundations of all the gods, they are the object of the hostility of all the gods, and they will not be able to do so, and they will not be saved.

But the soul from a world without gods succeeded, and the elven god of life answered his call - the lich was now able to determine that the gentle whispers that seemed to guide him came from Angeleth, and that the mere giving of blood would only exhaust the body, and the exhaustion of the soul would only come from a higher level of loss.

- I hope you are only here for your people, Angelis. The lich said gloomily.

Standing on the tower, he looked down, the orcs huddled together, their eyes shining like wild beasts in the night, and the ominous river of light that converged spread from the other side of the pass to the walls of Thundercastle.

"They have no battering rams, no giant trebuchets," said a knight who had served in Fort Thunder for the first time, bewilderedly, "but they continued to attack." ”

"Orcs are not human," said Baldwin, "they have never had a giant trebuchet or battering ram before, but they still attacked Thundercastle for six years. ”

The 1,500-foot walls were like a tsunami-struck boulder, and the orcs piled up under the walls, stepping on the shoulders, backs, and even heads of their fellow men, and climbing up with fanaticism—only in a few places had to erect long ladders and throw grappling hooks— In contrast to the battering ram, which was destroyed by Berdwin before it could be used, the giant trebuchet played a big role, projecting white phosphorus clay pots that shattered the ice armor of the walls and left countless potholes in the stone bricks, which the orcs could use to climb directly onto the walls. They chewed crude bone swords and iron swords, or used teeth and claws directly, and only a small number of orcs wore armor, and most of the rest were whole pieces of fur made of leather armor with fragments of chain mail, but their fur was coated with pine resin like wild boars, and ordinary soldiers could not pierce them at all.

So the humans entertained them with boiling oil and asphalt, each pot of which brought a long cry of wailing, and more soldiers ran up the walls, cutting the ropes attached to the grappling hooks, pushing the ladders open, and stretching out their spears to stab the heads of every orc who dared to peek beyond the walls, but only the well-balanced elves could stand on the wooden platforms that jutted out of the battlements and shoot arrows downward, and their targets were focused on the orc warriors in iron armor, who were the most vulnerable to the human defenses.

The knights, clad in chain mail and wielding broadswords and swords, as well as hammers and flails, like the elves, dealt primarily with the strong orcs that ordinary soldiers could not cope with - most notably Birdwin and his knights, all of whom were followers of Tyre, whose light shone on them at all times, almost making them think that dawn had come early.

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