"Your Excellency, the messenger sent by Fiona has arrived, awaiting your summons. "A necromancer came to report.

"What did he send someone for?" Sandru frowned. He looked at the enclosed people in the valley and walked with regret towards the huts on the hillside.

"Hello, Lord Sandru, Commander Fiona wants me to bring you my best greetings!" a demonic hero bowed and said, "He is looking forward to meeting you at Dustandwick Castle in Erathia!"

"Well, I'd love to meet this great commander too!" Sandru mused, "Tell him that I'll be leading my troops west when I'm done with all this stuff!"

"The 1st and 2nd Corps of Erathia have been making some changes lately, and Commander Fiona thinks they may be preparing for a large-scale campaign! In order to crush our common enemy, he asks you to launch a general attack on the Rolander army entrenched on the border line, and threaten Erathia from the east!"

Sandru listened quietly, without squeaking.

"As a token of gratitude for your selfless assistance, Commander Fiona is willing to hand over half of his captured captives into your hands, and you can use your superior strength to transform them into your loyal army!"

"Didn't I say that I will send troops after I am done with the things I am doing!" Sandru frowned: "Please tell His Excellency the Commander, I am also looking forward to meeting him, I think it may not be long!"

Have you agreed to send troops? If so, should you send troops immediately or wait? The envoy was a little confused.

Sandru waved his hand, and the poor demon messenger was immediately taken down by the undead.

"Are we ready for war, Your Excellency?" the undead heroes excited. The only thing that stood at the border of Dia and Erathia was a line of defense that Catherine and Roland hastily pieced together, like a flooded wall of earth that would collapse at the touch of a button!

"No, let Fiona fight!" Sandru's words surprised everyone: "His army of 100,000 against Kendal's army of 100,000 is just evenly matched!"

"But Your Excellency, the Demon Clan is an ally of ours!"

"Yes, that's why I didn't go with him to rob Erathia!" Sandru snorted, "If he is defeated and driven away by Kendall, I will gladly accept his mission to destroy Erathia!

The undead heroes began to laugh.

"Yes, why should we give up the honor of the conquest of Erathia to Fiona?

"But Commander Steve on the Northern Front seems to be progressing quickly......"

"No matter how fast Steve fights, is it as fast as our Commander, Your Excellency has captured Dia in just two months!"

"Steve is an idiot!" Sandru said angrily, "Why is he fighting so fast, if I command it, then I will play well under the Stone Dam City for a few months, and then I will do it when Fiona and Kendall are almost out of breath!"

"We get it!" the undead heroes admired the commander in front of them.

"Go ahead and search all of Dia, and imprison all the living people you find in this valley! I don't have enough soldiers to defend those castles, but I can't leave them for shelter for these people. Let them be a paradise for ghosts for a while!"

"What's your plan? A lot of people don't understand, why don't you just kill them?"

"Hmm...... I need these men to do the hard labor for us! Are you willing to carry the stones and the plaster, and renovate the castles with your own hands?"

The undead heroes immediately shook their heads.

Sandru breathed a sigh of relief. This seems to be a good reason, he doesn't want his subordinates to know that he is doing this to find a lost relative!

The old subordinates who knew about this were wiped out by the combined forces of humans, savages, dwarves and elves half a year ago, and all the captured were burned at the stake by Kenlo the savage like a barbecue, and in the end, only Sandru fled back to Dejia from Titalia in panic like a lost dog.

He didn't want the people in front of him to know about it. Only by pretending to be ruthless will this make them afraid. He didn't want them to know that there was still a weak side in his heart!

"Let's all do it at once!" cried out the undead heroes, "Whoever kills the captive will be punished for his own bricks and plaster!"

These days, Sandru always dreams of his wife Monica in his dreams, and the scene is almost the same, after his appearance turns into an undead, Monica chases after him, asking him to turn around and let her take a good look at his face!

He couldn't forget the look of despair on her face when she first saw his changed face!

Every time he woke up in a dream, Sandru was sweating profusely.

To be honest, it wasn't that he didn't think about finding another woman. With his current status, it would be easy to find a few hundred. But he immediately dismissed the idea, no, I can't do it! I owe Monica so much, I have to find him!

What a gentle and kind woman she was! She was always soft-spoken, and she never had a temper. At their most depressed, the two of them shared the same potatoes and drank the same bowl of vegetable soup together...... Sometimes he got so drunk that he staggered down the street, being ridiculed by his neighbors along the way, and even fell into a sinkhole and couldn't get up, but he always struggled to crawl to the door. The world was spinning, and everything was overlapping before him, but he could always find his door in the shadows, and now his wife was waiting by the door! and she always dragged him back to the bed, rubbing his head and face with those soft hands......

Whenever this happens, Sandru always murmurs, "Monica, believe me, I will make you have a good life!" and she always gently says, "Sandru, I believe in you!

It was a very poor day, but it was a happy day!

But why did you lose that simple happiness when you had everything?

Am I getting old? I heard that only the old people are especially nostalgic for the past...... Sandru sighed and slowly walked out of the room.

The room was built on a hill where Monica and her children had stayed. From here, the view is very open.

The valley has been fenced off by the undead with rudimentary wooden fences. The wooden fence was not high enough to reach through it with a lift of its legs, but the captives only dared to stay in the fence like a flock of timid and tame sheep.

"Who's that man?" Sandru pointed down the mountain.

The necromancer who followed him followed his finger and looked over to see an old man with long beard and robes sitting on a large rock in the fence, with many people crawling beside him. I saw him muttering and squirming in his mouth, and from time to time he put his palm on the top of people's heads.

"I heard he's a prophet, Lord Sandru!" replied the necromancer.

"Bring him to me!" Sandru walked towards the room.

The old man was soon dragged in by several necromancers.

Sandru had already started breakfast. He glanced at the Prophet only slightly, and continued to enjoy it slowly.

"Is that how you treated an old man? I remember that you were a well-read and well-mannered scholar!" said the Prophet, thrashing his old typhoid leg.

Sandru put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin and wiped his lips and said, "There are many seats here, of course you can choose one of them to sit down." ”

The old man sat down slowly in his chair. Sandru straightened his clothes, and then walked over to the old man.

His eyes were like a sharp knife, and the old man could see his pale head tucked over his shoulders.

"You must remember who you are! You are but a prisoner, and in my camp, you can't make a false sense or engage in a cult of personality!"

"I'm just giving them the right guidance, giving them spiritual comfort, so that they can forget the temporary pain in front of them......"

"I heard that you are a prophet...... Are you really as know-it-all-knowing, know-all-knowing, as they say?"

"Maybe it's because I've outlived them, so I know better!"

"Alright then, you can help me see where the original mistress of this house is, help me find her, and I'll let you live!"

The Prophet twitched his nostrils, sniffed the room, and slowly settled down.

The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop on the floor.

It was a long time before the prophet opened his eyes. He muttered, "I can't feel her temperature, I can't feel her breath." If I'm right, she's become a dead man!"

"Nonsense!" Sandru jumped in front of him in a fit of rage.

"Lord Sandru, I'm not lying!" the old man struggled to resist, but Sandru's hands had dug deep into the flesh of his shoulders, and his collarbones began to crumble with a clatter!

"Turn back, Lord Sandru!" said the old man bitterly, "you have lost yourself, go and look in the mirror, and you will be all gone!"

Sandru let go of his hand and went to a mirror in the room.

Did Monica ever stand in front of this mirror and dress up, and would her shadow still remain in this mirror?

There is nothing in the mirror, not even a mirror of Sandru himself.

Sandru kept shaking his body, but the mirror was still empty!

"Damn it, what about my shadow?" Sandru growled.

"Your shadow and your soul have been abandoned by you, and you are wandering nowhere!

Sandru let out a terrible howl, and the mirror in front of him immediately shattered to pieces! He ghostly flashed in front of the Prophet, his blade-like fingers already in the Prophet's chest!

As his hand slowly withdrew, a bloody heart was held in his palm, still beating violently!

"Let your soul wander the wasteland! it will never find this heart!" Sandru cursed hatefully!