The light in the forest became darker and darker, and the shadows that grew on the ground were like a slowly spreading black tide, drowning everything in the forest, leaving only a glimmer of light at the top of the canopy. The originally tall and verdant trees have now changed to a different shape, they stretch their twisted and jagged branches, like ghosts with teeth and claws, hiding their bodies in the thick mist, leaving only shadows and shadows deep and strange.

Deep in the jungle, the sound of hurried footsteps startled several perched birds, which chirped and flapped their wings into the deeper darkness. A hobbled figure ran from afar, looking back in a panic as he ran, his eyes filled with unconcealable horror, as if something was chasing him from behind, or that he wished to get out of a place as far away as possible.

His left hand was so badly wounded that half of his palms had been cut off in unison, and the strips of cloth that had been simply bandaged on the outside had been stained red with blood that kept flowing out, and he couldn't see his original color. The dark red liquid fell to the ground, reflecting a jet-black sheen in the dim light and shadow, leaving a long trail of blood behind him.

Betma fled, and the moment Teresa and her cavalry suddenly appeared, he fled without looking back, without hesitation. Of course, he recognized the only daughter of the Duke of the West, and at the same time, he knew better the combat effectiveness of the Westside cavalry, this seemingly seamless ambush, the moment they appeared, was destined to end in failure, and there would be no accidents.

Perhaps it was the first betrayal shouted from the town of Kugil, the first evasion, that the former chief of the guard disappeared completely. Sometimes the human heart is like this, and the first struggle and pain for evil is not the last trilling of conscience, but the initial pain of numbness.

Is life the most precious thing? It seems that the real answer will never be found, but Betma values his life more than ever. He knew very well that even if he could kill Sovereign after Teresa appeared, what would he do? The only thing that awaited him was death, could he have put his own life on the line for the sake of Eshkant, who was like a madman? No, never! The voice in Betma's heart had never been so firm.

The sound of heavy breathing and the sound of a violent heartbeat were intertwined in Betma's mind, although he was already exhausted and almost collapsed, but he knew that he must not stop now, only by leaving here can he have a chance to live, and as long as he survives, there will be infinite possibilities.

When Betma remembered the master who was standing behind Eshkant, his body suddenly trembled with fear, and his panicked steps were caught by the roots of the tree on the ground, and he fell to the ground hard. The "Chief of the Guard" cursed a few words, and then quickly shook off the heavy armor on his body, but another thought flashed through his mind. Yes, he has not been forced into a desperate situation, as long as he goes to the master, he still has a chance to rise, for that adult, he is by no means a useless existence! Yes, at this time, that adult must need himself very much, definitely!

After making up his mind, Betma immediately got up from the ground, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, as if his whole body had been refilled with strength, and quickly ran into the depths of the dense forest.

At this moment, a low sound of breaking the air sounded from behind him, and Betma was startled, and before he could turn back, a pitch-black feathered arrow pierced his shoulder, and the huge force directly carried his body to the ground, rolling up large pieces of fallen leaves. "Damn it......" Betma cursed secretly, and immediately got up as fast as he could, standing his long sword in front of him, and looked in the direction behind him, now is not the time to tangle the arrow wound.

Dozens of cavalrymen, led by a long-haired lady, rushed out of the dim shadows of the forest, and the mist that had settled on the surface was knocked away by the galloping horses, and they swirled back to both sides, and the cold hooves buckled on the thick fallen leaves with a low muffled sound, like the drumbeat of chasing life, making Bet Ma's face instantly fade all the blood.

Teresa raised her bloodstained sword, her eyes as bright as jewels staring at the embarrassed figure not far away, getting closer and closer, and the last sword swept past. With a "dang" sound, the long sword that Betma could only hold with one hand was instantly slashed out, and he himself was knocked to the ground again.

The next moment, the expected scene of death under the iron hoof did not happen, and the cavalry behind Teresa very tacitly bypassed the "chief of the guard" who fell to the ground, and soon divided into two columns. They quickly weaved around behind Bet's horse, and by the time the chaotic figures and horses regained their footing, the clever riders from the West had formed a small circle and surrounded Bet's horse in the center.

There was not a single word in the whole process, as if everything was going on in silence. Without Teresa opening her mouth, these cavalrymen knew very well that the traitor in front of them was completely out of their turn, and at the same time, Betma's body that sat on the ground trembled, and a trace of utter despair flashed on his face, he knew that the judgment that awaited him was coming.

With the sound of slow footsteps, the cavalry bowed on horseback and saluted, while making a gap in the direction of the way they came. Under the gaze of everyone, Sovereign and Tandra and others walked in, and Kereni, who was slightly unable to move, nodded and stood aside.

Unlike the straightforward expressions of the others, the faces of Solweran and the others were full of complicated expressions. For Thomas and Kuhl, the man who sat on the floor was their brother, for Sovereign and Peslin, he was their friend, and for Shaun Sr., he was his student. And the most painful of all is Tandra, for whom Betma is no different from his own child.

No one could describe the pain in Tandra's heart right now, even at this very moment, his anger had long been drowned out by a flood of bitterness. Betma wept, looking at the familiar figure, two lines of tears, whether it was fear or remorse, flowed from his eyes. "My lord......" his mouth was slightly open, and he hoarsely squeezed out the most familiar word.

"Shut up, stand up......," Tandra interrupted him loudly, his eyes blood-red, chapped lips trembling uncontrollably, "like a man!, stand up, face the sin you have committed, and the judgment you must endure!" his voice seemed to roar, like a scream at a child who had committed a heinous crime, but was still his own.

"No, what's wrong with wanting to live!Is it wrong?!......" Tears and snot spread all over Betma's face, "I don't want to lose all my hard-won things...... I don't want my life tied to someone else's chariot, running farther and farther, faster and faster, and finally breaking my bones......" he pounded the ground hard, "woo woo...... Is this also wrong?!Is it wrong?!"

Tandra closed his eyes with difficulty, cloudy tears spilling out of the corners of his eyes, and Sawylan stepped forward with his sword, his steps never heavier. "You're right, Betmar......" he shook his head slightly, "but no one is forcing you to choose which side to take...... No one is forcing you to choose whether to betray us or not...... No one limits your choices, all the results are yours to choose, aren't you......"

Betma looked at the long sword in Soveland's hand and shook his head frantically in horror. "No...... I don't want to die, let me go, Your Highness......" he begged loudly, "let me go...... I swear to the Lord God that I will leave Orem and leave forever...... Leave me alone......"

Sovereign shook his head with difficulty. "When poor Mirza died in the town of Kugil, the end of the day was already ......," he said, "and you have left me with no choice......

"No, it shouldn't be like this, it shouldn't be like this......" Betma kept repeating the words in his mouth as if he was crazy, and suddenly, his face showed a devouring hideousness, "Blame you! Blame you, the crown prince who should have died a long time ago! Otherwise, things would never have turned out like this! Never!" With that, Betma rushed up from the ground, drew a sharp dagger from his boot with his right hand, and pounced on Soveland.

Everyone was startled, and Sovereign retreated slightly, dodging Betma's attack, and the long sword in his hand suddenly drew a bright arc of light, flashing across Betma's throat. After a short moment, Sovereign took two steps back a little tiredly, while Betma was still standing.

......Like a sudden whistle in the silent air, a bloody arrow erupted from Betma's neck, and Betma covered the wound, but black blood still gushed out from between his fingers, staining his placket red. "No...... No...... No, ......" his mouth kept opening and closing, his voice shattered, and his body that had lost strength fell to its knees, "No...... It's mine...... My destiny ...... Shouldn't...... Shouldn't...... So ......" he said, slowly falling down, looking at everyone's eyes full of pain and unwillingness.

Thomas and Kuhl bowed their heads slightly, and old Sean stood silently beside Tandra, while Soveland, who was already extremely tired, had no trace of revenge in his bitter heart, and the long sword in his hand was extremely heavy, as if he could no longer hold it in his hand. Looking at Betma who fell in the fallen leaves, Sovereign found that something had changed, he was no longer the innocent and happy self he used to be, and the other party was no longer the other party in that impression.

Where have they gone?, Soviran asked in his heart, but no one could give him an answer, and the back of the sword was a little lonely and lonely, and Paislin walked over and pressed his shoulder heavily with his palm.

Teresa looked at Solveland's back with some distress. "Let's go, let's get out of here. She said.

The crowd nodded silently, took the reins of the horses from the cavalry, paused for a moment, and followed Teresa into the depths of the forest. Tandra was at the back of the line, and he glanced back at his body curled up in the fallen leaves, one last look.

The setting sun on the horizon took away the last light from the clouds, and the darkness in the forest finally swallowed up all the light, and seemed to swallow people's hearts at the same time. The moon slowly rose, and the flowing moonlight reflected through the branches and leaves of the trees, reflecting the battlefield of death, the blood stains that had solidified everywhere, and the corpses scattered in the forest that had long since lost their lives.

The salty smell of blood wafted through the forest, refusing to dissipate for a long time, and a pair of cold eyes accompanied by a low roar appeared around this place of life and death, which was a beast that smelled death. They are tempting, trying to rush up and take possession of the food that no one knows who has given them.

In the thick pile of fallen leaves, a figure suddenly struggled to stand up, and he was hunched up, like an evil spirit that suddenly appeared in the forest. He put his hand into the garment on his left chest, and when he took it out again, his white palm was completely covered with blood, and then, with the broken sword in his hand, he directly cut off the feather arrows embedded in his chest, and finally threw the broken sword aside.

Staggering forward, he stopped in front of a mangled corpse. "Ozul...... My faithful Ozur......" He leaned down and gently closed the corpse's round-open eyes. Then, an incomparably hideous voice squeezed out of his throat, and even the beasts in the distance were frightened away by the fierce aura emanating from his body. "I'm going to let all of you die......"