Seventy years later......

Sudden black clouds obscured the silver moonlight, lightning danced and roared in the black clouds, and an ancient forest in the Northland was shrouded in pitch darkness, and more and more manic lightning fell into the forest from time to time, illuminating the whole forest. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

A unicorn appeared under an old oak tree, the color of her mane not faded, it looked like the color of a bloom in a spring forest, and she was still very young. She is the messenger of the Ranger God Mericay, and the memories of this forest tell her that there has never been such weather in the past tens of thousands of years. She looked up with curiosity and wariness, looking at the rare black cloud. Blue lightning swam among the black clouds, proclaiming the wrath it contained.

Thousands of lightning bolts suddenly converged to form a blue patch, and then a force caused them to start swimming, and the swimming lightning together formed a blue lightning vortex that illuminated the world. Then came a loud roar from above the sky, and the night wind, which had been gently blowing, suddenly became violent, and the unicorn's white cloud-like mane fluttered in the wind.

The young unicorn cowered behind an ancient oak tree, no longer knowing whether it was the wrath of nature or the work of magic, and with curiosity she cowered and stuck her head out to observe the spectacular spectacle of the sky.

Suddenly, something fell from the center of the whirlpool, and in the light of lightning, she could see clearly that it was a monster! It looked like a blue-purple praying mantis, it was badly wounded, its wings were missing, a sharp forelimb was cut in half, and its wings were also mutilated like butterflies landing on the grass after a storm.

It barely managed to regain its balance in the air, its stump spilling pale blue blood, and the lightning roared baptizing its body, scorching what little of its wings remained. But beyond that, the earth-shattering lightning didn't destroy its body any further.

It let out a piercing scream and fell straight out of the air into the forest.

The lightning in the sky dissipated as quickly as it had begun, and cold raindrops swarmed down from the black clouds and crashed into the ancient forest, the sound of the raindrops hitting the leaves drowned out the monster's lower and lower screams.

It was not a wail of death, but a roar of rage.

Frightened, the unicorn lowered its head and disappeared in the rain.

In the dark dungeon, thirteen cells are separated by a passageway, and a pale yellow light shines through the cells, which are neither small nor too small, but strong enough for the prisoners to lose hope of escape. In the cell, a magic lamp hung from the ceiling shone yellow, and beneath it lay a scratched wooden table and an iron chair fixed to a dirty stone slab. A stone pillar stands in front of a scarred wooden table.

The cold cell door was pushed open, and the cacophony of friction echoed through the empty cell, and a thin middle-aged man was thrown into the cell, the only prisoner in the thirteen cells. Before he could get up from the dirty ground, two pairs of large hands grabbed him fiercely and dragged him to the iron chair.

"No!" he shouted, bursting out with a strength that did not match his thin body, and for a moment the black-robed men could not tie him to the iron chair, and the impatient black-robed man drew his mace and was about to hit him, but a male voice stopped him.

"Stop, let me persuade this Mr. scribe. ”

The hand on his head was released, and the panting scribe was able to look up at the source of the voice, a tall, thin man in a black robe, with only two eyes exposed. But that look, that voice, reminded him of the tireless teacher, as if he were in a quiet classroom rather than a terrible prison cell.

"Dear scribe, I can understand your panic, after all, you have been caught in a terrible place, and everyone is afraid. I also know you'd love to get out, after all, no one wants to be in a cage, and I promise that if you can work for three days for our great cause, we'll set you free. ”

"Liar!" the kind voice did not make the scribe let his guard down, he shook his head and denied: "You will not let me go in order to keep the secret, you must be doing a dirty thing that will not see the light of day! Otherwise, you would not be dressed like this! The Empire will definitely notice your dirty things!"

"Oh, dear friend, we are dressed like this to let people go, if no one will get out alive, why should we cover ourselves? As he spoke, the tall lanky man stared into the scribe's panicked eyes, "We can make you disappear, and naturally your daughter will be missing, your wife will be missing, and your parents who live in the small town of Olis will be missing. Believe me, the rotten and filthy empire is helpless against this. ”

He looked at the scribe's face with satisfaction, which was gradually turning pale, and then added: "If you give in to your fears and are not willing to think of your poor family, I have to tell you with regret that two rude men behind you will make you die a slow and painful death. ”

The scribe looked down at the table, which contained only a bottle of ink, a pen, and a few sheets of leather paper, and the scratches on his nails on the wooden table disturbed him.

"I just need to take a pen and copy?" he asked, obediently asking the black-robed men to put the shackles on their feet.

"As with your daily work, listen to the voices of the nobles and record their voices on paper. He said softly, watching with satisfaction as the scribe obediently picked up the pen.

The scribe didn't believe what the gentle man in front of him said, but he had to. He habitually caressed the leather paper, which was so soft to the touch that as an old scribe, he could not judge its material for a moment.

What kind of skin is that?

Before he could express his doubt, his attention was drawn to a mysterious skull, a black-robed man reverently holding a jawless skull that looked like it was made of obsidian. When the scribe's gaze moved to the empty eye socket, he felt a pair of cold and evil eyes shoot straight into his eyes, like two poisonous snakes, burrowing into his heart, making him tremble.

The black skull was like a magnet, drawing his gaze tightly, and the scribe stared at it as the pious black-robed man gently placed it on the stone pillar in front of the table. The scribe began to tense, his thin body trembling slightly, ominous premonitions pouring into his body like ice water, cold sweat breaking out of his forehead and running down his cheeks.

"I, I'll survive, right. He asked, in a tone of fear and hope.

"Of course. ”

"But, however, why can't I turn my head? As he spoke, his right hand trembling violently, he slowly reached for the leather paper.

"Please note what it says, your sacrifice is for a better future for humanity. ”

The mild-mannered man said lightly, turning to leave.

"Who is it!!?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the black skull let out a maddening confusion, like countless glass balls squeezing against each other. It pierced into his ears and echoed in a deep valley in his heart.

"Please! Ahh

The scribe screamed with his mouth wide open, his legs straight, his neck desperately trying to move his head, and his left hand clutching the table frantically. The sawdust pierced into the cracks of the fingernails, dyeing red, and the pain of drilling into the heart could only slightly alleviate the torment of the demonic sound that pierced the brain.

"Think about your family, and your six-year-old daughter, don't let them show their grief, please survive. Then came the sound of the thick wooden door slamming shut.

"Wow! no!!" the scribe screamed.

The jawless skull made even more frantic sounds, and the poor scribe felt like countless red-hot iron tongs stabbing into his brain at the same time, stirring it up violently. He didn't want to comprehend the cacophony of sounds, because every thought of it was like pushing his head into a spear stuck in his head. But from afar, like a voice from beneath the abyss, commanded it to think, and, and a glimmer of hope rose in his aching heart.

He wants to live to see his family.

Thinking of this, he was a little weaker at that moment, so the powerful and chaotic power conquered him earlier, and the scribe's violently trembling right hand finally began to write on leather paper.

The storm brought the branches of the trees to their knees, dancing in the wind and making a whirring sound. The raindrops mixed with the wind carried away countless green leaves, made the trees weep, and the stones emerged from under the earth, bending the weeds' waists, revealing a lonely tombstone.

It is old, the body of the stele is dyed with the color of time, and the raindrops hit it fiercely, taking away the debris engraved in the text on the stele body. An arc of lightning fell from the night sky to illuminate the world, and also illuminated the words on the stele, which were a few lines of powerful universal text:

Here are buried the rats of the underground waters, the nightmare of Berwick City, the overseer with the sword, the Ash Enforcer - Arcanis, you can also call her Alina. She knew nothing but self-deception, and sadly she didn't know her true self until she died.

The River of Time is ruthless, it never returns, leaving the Awakened Blade with only remorse and bitterness before dying. It takes away youth and turns silver into white ashes. It erases all traces of people left in the world, and makes people forget the heroic epic and her name.

No one remembers the owner of the tombstone, the silver-haired ranger who once wielded two blades.

In addition to gods and monsters, the near-eternal gods do not forget their faithful followers, which is why the young unicorn guards the Ranger's Tomb.

And the monster, no one knows what it's thinking, it's as mysterious as that sudden whirlpool of lightning. Badly wounded, it was walking through the torrential rain and dense forests, and everything in front of it was cut off by sharp blades, and no one could stop its tracks.

It emerged from the edge of the forest and walked straight to the tombstone beneath the ancient oak tree. The young unicorn stood in front of the tombstone, bowed its head, pointed its sharp horns at the monster, and its two hooves scraped into the ground, making a warning sound that it would not be allowed to desecrate the grave of a ranger.

The monster didn't stop, a pair of purple compound eyes stared at the unicorn in front of it, its sharp mouthparts making a screeching sound, and only half of its sharp forelimbs waved menacingly, as if all it stood in front of it was a pile of white foam.