The attack from the Divine Descendants was not just aimed at chasing this place.

Almost most of the strongholds of the Soul Sect have been attacked.

But those who have the courage to sacrifice their souls and attract the attention of the Lord of Souls are only chasing.

Monet was not unaware that the Soul Sect was being hit hard.

But he didn't stop it.

For the eagle to spread its wings and soar, it needs to fall off the cliff on its own, stumble along the way, and find a way to fly freely.

As a worshiped deity, Monet gave his followers weapons to preserve their lives and dignity.

It is impossible to return them as nannies, do everything well, and protect all the believers like delicate flowers in a greenhouse. That's where Monet is smart, he knows that the Terrans are important, and he knows that the Terrans' beliefs in him are important to him.

But I also know that if there is no suffering and the grinding of survival, all this importance will eventually become 'unimportant'.

If jade is not cut, it can't be made, that's the truth.

The terrifying weirdo, dripping with disgusting mucus all over his body, and his mouth full of sharp teeth, let out a terrifying roar.

The two priests, who couldn't escape, were grabbed by the strange man's reach, and then put them in their mouths, biting off their heads.

The frightened crowd is frantically fleeing.

And yet in this case.

There were a few people, dragging heavy stone swords, running in the opposite direction.

Holding an ancient stone sword in his hand, there are mottled red blood stains on the heavy sword body, and the accumulated scratches represent that these stone swords have an unusual origin.

"Floods and plagues are widespread, all people are under attack, children and women are killed, we are all prisoners, and we can't find out who is in danger. But... We will not give in, and in the midst of death and wailing, draw our swords, face fear, and execute punishment. Our bodies will decay, and our spirits will be sprinkled with glory. ”

In the brilliant golden flames, several warriors held stone swords high and launched a charge amid chanting.

"It's a knight of the Counters!" someone shouted.

In the relatively short transcendent history of mankind, there are both Bloodwrath Knights who inherit transcendence through bloodline and accumulate power.

There are also knights who have been fighting against the sword and will continue the unyielding fighting will.

Fight against the war and fight to the death.

The spirits of all dead warriors are attached to the weapons they have used.

In the end, these weapons will become extraordinary weapons with powerful spirituality.

Those who are recognized by these weapons will become the new knights of the counter-war.

The blade of the sword burns with the flame of faith, as if it can scorch through everything.

But the disgusting and terrifying Divine Descendant, with a thick gray smoke coming out of his mouth, corroded these stone swords with strong faith.

The overwhelming poisonous gas engulfed the warriors with stone swords.

In the face of such danger, none of the knights retreated, they formed a wall of flesh and blood, buying time for those behind them to escape.

Charge! Towards the unknown, towards fear, towards death!

At this moment, the spirit contained in the stone sword has reached a high degree of spiritual synchronization and consistency with the person holding the sword.

The many figures that were once alive are now all overlapping together.

Their faith, their fighting spirit, their spirit, their will, their experience... All of them were forcibly twisted into a whole by a sword.

The sword blade is wielded, a simple slash, but it seems to contain countless spiritual truths.

Even the simplest sword moves, once infused with a strong will, are indestructible and irresistible.

The gray poisonous smoke was constantly being chopped and chopped off.

Faced with the approaching blades, the disgusting godborn let out an angry roar, but for some reason, he stepped back.

Step by step, step by step, and finally there is no way back.

Charge! Charge! The blade of the sword cut everything and slashed down at the forehead of the Progen.

But injustice is injustice, and the gods have the blessings of the gods.

Only divine power can break the blessing formed by divine power.

No matter how strong the belief is, it seems that it cannot transcend this gap.

This may be one of the reasons why the old man played by Feng Linwan, slaughtering gods with a mortal body, will cause such a big sensation.

The disgusting divine descendant shook the divine light on his body, and under the shroud of divine light, the flames that seeped out of the stone sword began to fade one after another.

In the end, all the flames were forcibly suppressed, and the stone sword in the hands of the knight seemed to have turned into a mortal thing.

Charge!

Even if what they only hold is no longer a sword blessed with a strong will, these counter-war knights still wave the sword in their hands and charge, without being discouraged or giving up.

The flame of faith has been extinguished, but the new will is awakening above the blade of the sword.

Clank! Clank!

A stone sword fell to the ground.

Their owners, in the gray smoke of poison, were corroded and died, leaving behind only the stone swords with many more scratches.

People began to despair.

Suddenly, a teenager rushed out of the fleeing crowd.

He picked up a stone sword on the ground, and then learned the pattern of the previous counter-war knight, and went backwards to the limit, charging towards death.

There is the awakening of a teenager.

More people began to turn around, they took steps, and their expressions gradually became firm as they ran.

Eventually, one by one, they picked up the stone swords on the ground.

Then one after another, in the gray poisonous smoke, the body was dissolved.

There are more blood spots on the stone sword.

The stone sword, which was originally made of ordinary material, seemed to be about to turn bloody.

A figure appeared at one end of the battlefield.

but no one saw him.

The oldest god of death, looking indifferently at the death of everyone here, his expression did not change in the slightest.

But gradually, he stretched out a finger.

It's like igniting something.

Those stone swords that could only be attached to people and controlled by people, they jumped on their own.

There was a roar that roared out of the sword.

Burdened with the phantom of death, born from the blade of the sword, their faces constantly transformed, and finally fixed.

The black mist of death beneath them condensed into a strange ghostly warhorse.

Riding these war horses, with swords in hand.

Charge again! charge! charge!

Under the tenacious sword light, the seemingly invincible god descendant was once again defeated.

The blessed light of God in him was thinner and thinner by the blades of the sword with a firm will.

Eventually, several long swords pierced into the body of the godborn.

With a strong poisonous blood, it flows out.

The Divine Descent fell, and his corpse quickly melted into the earth, turning into a swamp.

And those anti-war knights with illusory bodies flashed with dark eyes, and then they rode ghost war horses one after another, running away towards the distant mountains.

For a long time afterward, legends about these knights of the Counter War will circulate.

They will always appear in the most dangerous places, facing death and launching a desperate charge against the most ferocious enemies.

At this time, Monet was spreading his teachings.

He felt the fluctuation of that trace of death's divine power.

He knew that his old friend was coming, too.