The god of death, Kranvo, sat on his throne, and although his priesthood was death, he had not only failed to deliberately reveal a body made of worms that had eaten carrion, as the previous god of death, Sherik, had never used a mummy hidden under a gray robe and cloak as an image to cover his essence, as the ancient Jecob did, and his appearance could even be said to be simple, looking like any warrior in the world of the living, from his clothes to his expression, to his face, hands and feet, he was full of weariness of life, a desire for peace (even if it was brought by death), and dust and exhaustion that never dissipated。

One of his hands rested on a small box containing the essence of life of Silver Dragon Frost White—the first mistake he had made since becoming the god of death, and he had thought that it would be the only mistake, but now it seemed that the latter possibility was very slim—he had a debt to Silver Dragon Frost White and Ederna who was only a dragonborn at the time, and now he had to pay it.

There are only a few servants in the crystal tower of the god of death, all of whom were once the most loyal believers and voters of the god of death, and they watched in amazement as the bone dragon strode through the crystal clear corridor, showing that she was an undead creature from the outside to the inside, and in this plane, such as Angelis, the god of life, Rosada, the god of morning light, and Ilmut, the god of suffering, and other gods who hate the undead are no longer few, but among them, the most unshakable is probably the god of death, Kranvo, in his teachings, death is also a part of the life cycle, it is not the end but another beginning, it is worthy of respect, which is comforting and should not be avoided, and artificially, delaying one's own or someone else's life to a time period that should not exist is not only a contempt for the living, but also a blasphemy for the dead, his priest has always been the backbone of the fight against necromancers, lichs, and undead, and unlike the priests of Jecob (not to mention Ciric's), they don't even keep some of the more controllable undead for themselves— But now, they're seeing an undead creature big enough walking in the crystal tower of the god of death.

Upon seeing the broken membranous wings of the bone dragon, the memories that the god of death thought had been sealed by himself along with humanity suddenly returned—was that his second year as the god of death, or was it his third year? There were as many undercurrents and obstacles in the City of the Dead, and there were as many dead people as galleys in habits, or hobbies, like the chaotic and cruel rule of Shirek, and there were only a handful of soldiers and officials under his command, and if it were not for the full support of Jecob, let alone the teachings, the laws, and the cleansing of filth, it was not known whether he himself would have retained the power of death— But to be able to cling to him shoulder to shoulder, to rely on each other, was also Midnight, who had just taken over the magical priesthood, when human emotions were still in their hearts, or more accurately, more hot, pure, they tried to use their powers like innocent children, listening to the cries of their believers, foolishly thinking that their love could be as long as their existence, full of hope and tenderness.

But in the persuasion of Jecob, as well as the provocation of Ciric, and Kranvo's own shallow cognition, he chose a path full of fallacies, and after the cold divinity gradually replaced his humanity, he was no longer Cranvo, but the god of death, which made Midnight, the god of magic who still cherished love, sad, Klanvo had hoped that after her grief, she would be able to give up the past as she did, and become a perfect god who could truly assume the priesthood and power, but he was wrong, or rather, Midnight did choose the same answer as him, but the emotions of being human still haunted her, so that she could not get rid of it, so, The god of magic chose to fall on its own, her priesthood was shattered, the godhead died, and the divine power and divine fire formed a second brilliant galaxy in the heavenly dome surrounding this plane, and with the acquiescence of the god Io, this magical galaxy that only people with talent can see, became the source of almost all magic.

As a warrior who had been tortured by curses and teased by fate, he had a strong sense of responsibility, he did not allow himself to spend his thoughts and powers in love endlessly, he thought that when he and Midnight's humanity were replaced by divinity, they would be new gods different from the old gods, and they would care for every believer or anyone who was willing to do good, giving them strength, hoping that those who were regarded by the gods as ants could live in peace and well-beingand then, surrounded by their children, they walked peacefully into the wasteland of death, which they had never been able to obtain by any means as a member of the ants.

But after feeling the impact of Midnightfall, Cranvo suddenly realized that he could still shed tears, and everything he thought he had abandoned was like the fine grass hidden under the ice cap, and once the weight above it disappeared, they would come out in a frenzy - and he didn't even realize that Midnight had fallen on its own, and he was angry looking for the god-killer, who had been looking for an opportunity to reclaim the priesthood of death......

The memory came to an abrupt end, because the bone dragon had come to the god of death with the cold aura peculiar to the undead, and Frost White also stared intently at the newborn god, humans, in the early days, for dragons, were only tools, food and slaves, until thousands of years ago, there were humans with gifts and talents who were looked at differently by the dragons, she was saying, for those dragons with good nature, for evil colored dragons, human wisdom and power only made them angry and feel humiliated。 But neither the colored dragons nor the metal dragons could have imagined that the little insects they had only occasionally glanced at with pity or contempt in the past could one day become majestic and powerful gods.

Again, as a god, and within his realm, even if it was an ancient silver dragon transformed into a bone dragon, Kranvo didn't need to pay homage to her, but before Frost White gently bowed his head, the god of death had already risen from his seat and bowed slightly to the bone dragon, not because of Frost White itself or the demigod Lich Ederna, but a murderer's apology to his victims, although both had been deceived by another despicable person.

But Cranvo only had time to walk in front of Frost White, and his expression became serious, because he could keenly perceive the change in Frost White's aura, and then when the voice of the bone dragon echoed in his hall, there was not only Frost White, but also Ederna's will hidden deep in it - although Jego kept reminding him that Frost White's accidental death was not necessarily due to Kranvo's loss of control driven by emotion, but Kranvo had to admit that if it was only in the face of Frost White, the bone dragon- He didn't need to be so vigilant, but the uncrowned king of the Seventy-Seven Islands was not Kranvo's enemy, at least for now.

What happened in the crystal tower, even Jego couldn't capture the details, the bone dragon frost white only stayed for a short moment before disappearing into the darkness again, when Jego walked into the hall of Cranvo with the dossier in his hand, he only saw a sad and bewildered god of death, like the human he saw a thousand years ago, "What's the matter, Jerk?" Kranvo asked.

"There are some. Jecob said, and he laid down the dossier in his hand and let it unfold in the air, so that the god of death could see its contents— The dossier in Jeco's hand is a list of the dead, and all the dead will leave their names on it, and if he writes any name on the dossier, then the life corresponding to that name will also be immediately ended, but what Kranwo sees is the ugly marks that spread across the gray-white pages like overturned ink, which means that the world of the living is producing a large number of dead, and in general, this situation indicates that a war or plague like a catastrophe is taking place in the main material plane.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

The fort is now in ruins.

The soldiers, knights, and civilians of this free city, as well as merchants and councillors, were all killed and wounded, even the spellcasters, and Alva's disciples lost five of them in this battle, accounting for almost half of all his disciples, which made the old mage immerse himself in a whirlpool of sorrow and pain, but if it was to say remorse, maybe there were, but his disciples thought that they had died fighting for their city, which was exactly what they wanted, and their mentor had no need to blame themselves for it— Among the priests and paladins, the followers of the gods Tyre and Rosada were dealt a major blow, after all, they had to take on the heavy responsibility of the escaped warlocks and mages first, and then the thousands of undead, but in this battle, even the priests of Woking did not stand idly by, although they did ask for large gifts.

However, to the surprise of the mortals of Blades, they were protected and cared for by the priests of Flo. A craftsman stopped in front of a corpse lying in the muddy water, a young girl, dressed in brown robes and wearing Flo's emblem, who remembered that he had pestered her with arrogance the other day, because they had heard from their parents that decades ago, Reverend Flo had been a "prostitute" who could be used for a silver coin When the girl refused them, they clamoured loudly with dissatisfaction, they beat her, and tried to rip off her robe, and if it weren't for another priest from Rosada who came to stop them, maybe they would have done something even more despicable in front of countless people.

But they are also priests, followers of the gods. The craftsman knelt down in front of the maiden's corpse in a daze, and while he and his parents, children, and wife were hiding in the small room between the second and third walls, it was this girl who faced the white-faced and hideous undead, and the other priests of Frow who had bought them time to escape, and he clearly remembered that when he crawled past the girl, he said in embarrassment and shame, "Thank you." ”

But at that time, she did not give any response. Perhaps they had poured all their strength into prayer, and the undead screamed in a low voice, pounding the thin barrier in front of them, but they didn't even have a chance to look away or move their bodies...... They...... When he was finally able to stand on the third wall, the craftsman looked back, only to see that their protection had finally been destroyed, and the knights beside him shouted orders for the soldiers to drop stones.

The stones also shattered their limbs, and the craftsman crawled in the dirty muddy water, trembling and trying to lift her body, but before he could make a move, an elf stopped him, and the craftsman saw two soldiers gather their bodies together and carry them to the pyre: "Wait," he cried hoarsely, "Wait, they are priests, they are priests of Flo, they have fought, they have protected me, and there are many others...... Do you want witnesses? I can call them right away......"

"Not for this reason," explained the elf kindly, "that all the dead who have been bitten by the undead must be dealt with in this way, otherwise," he approvingly pressed the handicraftman's shoulder, "the plague will spread quickly." ”

"But how can I thank her?" cried the craftsman, "I can't even offer her a little flower." ”

"She is Flo's priest," said the elf, "and when you have settled down, go and worship Flo, believing that her soul will hear your voice in Flo's kingdom and see your smile, and she will know that her sacrifice is worthwhile." ”

The craftsman looked abruptly realised, "Yes, I almost forgot. He said, "She is the priest of Flo, and I will sacrifice Flo so that she can see how she religiously adds glory to the goddess." ”

The elf looked at the back of the craftsman leaving, and sighed, because of Cremar's relationship, the elves of the Silver Crown Jungle also have a certain understanding of Afra, this unfortunate child has brought them a lot of sighs and sighs, especially after Cremar entered the bottomless abyss, the jungle here also considered whether to help Afra, or, if she wanted, the elves would also find a peaceful and gentle place for her to live- But before they could make a move, Afra had already solved all the obstacles and troubles with the power of thunder, and she began to search for and purge the priest of the god again in terms of the identity of the heir of Memi, and the elves had heard about it, but the latter question about faith was less likely for them to interfere than the previous one.

But the elves have to say that Afra seems to have done a good job in this regard, at least the elves have sensed that Flo's priests have gradually shaken off their previous vanity and frivolity, and have begun to truly become followers of the gods—and Flo's teachings that have been distorted for many years can finally be corrected, which is a result that they are happy to see for the Silvercrown Jungle.