"What does conscience mean to you?"

He asked the tomb robber who had long disappeared: "Is there nothing you will be in awe?"

Severil retreated to the central hall and cried silently in the darkness and shadows, as if the bitterness of a lifetime was poured out at this moment.

He was born in this house a hundred years ago.

The soft light sways in the cold night with the spring breeze. The dome formed by the green and fragrant grape branches and leaves covers the courtyard in summer. The high windows and mirrors of the library reflect the orange-gold frost in the autumn morning.

For him, everything is still vivid in my mind.

Unfortunately, his early years are now gone.

At this moment, a light hit from a sharp claw saved his life.

When the dirty abyss monster came from the steps, Severell came back from his sadness and was able to dodge.

A ball of black shadow rang around him like lightning, and his hook claws whizzed past the elf's head and neck earlier.

A scorching and sharp claw brushed across Seville's face, and the powerful momentum forced him to turn sharply to the other side, causing the monster to lose the opportunity to tear open the prey's throat from condescendingly.

Severel exclaimed, and took a few steps back, and used the distance between his arms to confirm the direction. He drew out his sword.

His opponent was somewhat similar to a rotten goat, but had a long and thick tail, and circled behind it like a hungry venomous snake.

Its skin is dark red and hot, and its eyes are bright like green flames burning in the shadows of a dark area.

"Crying bitterly for the dead, elves?" it hissed, "Don't worry, I will leave your bones here with other wrecks."

"The insult to my ancestors is your own way of death and a lackey in the abyss!" Severell roared, lying the tip of his sword between the monster and himself.

The demon grinned, revealing its sharp and rotten fangs, and then the horns of its sharp claws and thorns rushed towards the elf like a storm.

But Seville was prepared for the monster. He let himself naturally slide into the sword master's meditation, a state where his body and mind were always devoted to the dance of thousands of craftsmanship.

Severil moved his sword cautiously and calmly, guiding the monster's claws away from his flesh, avoiding its tail thorns, and covering up subtle thorns and counterattacks.

The thin-blade sword's razor-shaped sword tip was searching for the demon's flesh and blood in the gaps of sharp claws and sharp thorns, and back and forth.

A stream of blood splattered.

The hot black blood scattered on the dusty floor, but the monster didn't care about these wounds.

It slashed violently, and the horns of the minions swept across Seville with strong wind.

The elves and demons fought desperately in a terrifying silence, with a dead silence besides the hollow striking sounds and scratches from the claws and swords.

The sharp barbs penetrated Seville's limbs, while the claws tore open his flickering chain mail, but he still fought hard, never letting the pain and fatigue make him diligently focus for a moment.

The demon tried to grab Seville's sleeve with a claw-shaped palm and then pushed it hard at him so that he could pierce him like a nail on the bed.

But Seville turned around slantedly, shook off the monster's claws, and roared out a spell of deadly spell, and used his free hand to tightly grasp the monster's arm.

The golden light burst out under the touch of the sword master, burning his opponent's arm into a useless piece of coke.

Just as the demon gasped and retreated, it held Severel's claws and loosened.

It squatted down and began to twist its body, dancing around its tail with terrifying spikes and winds, and could break the stone.

Seville jumped over the demon's attack and penetrated the monster's throat with the action of flowing clouds and water. The deep foot was one foot.

The demon forced him back with a chaotic whip and poke, but black blood surged in its mouth, flowing continuously between his yellow poisonous fangs.

It staggered toward Seville for two steps, but the green and fire-stricken eyes turned gray and then fell to the floor and poured into a small pond made of dirty liquid on its body.

Seville aimed cautiously at the opponent and pierced it with another piercing.

Then he took a few steps back and waited for the corpse to disappear - the monsters summoned always did.

But nothing happened.

Just where he fell, the body of this lackey of the abyss turned into a pile of filthy pus and blood.

"It wasn't called?" he whispered in shock.

This thing was not summoned to the material world by a spell, it must voluntarily pass some path between the planes where it is located.

It exists in this world in real price.

An ominous sign.

This monster appears in the world as a demon elves, or is it some other danger that intends to obstruct Seville and his elves?

Regardless of the answer, the clues he could find in the ruins of the Moville Manor are all here.

Who stole the ancient moon blade and what kind of relationship does humans have with this matter? There is no answer here.

Exhausted and depressed, Severell shook off the rotten blood from the blade, turned back to the stairs, and returned to the warmth of midsummer.

……………………

Seville returned to camp one hour before sunset.

This is a pleasant place, a clearing in the forest covered by leaves, only a stone's throw from the sound of the River Rewen. Twenty elves who obey Seville's command were patrolling here.

"His Excellency Seville is back!" a clear voice called.

Seville looked up and the moon-elf ranger Andalil stood on a huge rock overlooking the camp, raising his bow to greet him.

Born in Irranser, Andalil, was young and impulsive, and admired Seville's noble origin and personal achievements. He was so serious that Seville could not help but wonder if he was deliberately mocking him, but under the true feelings of the young elves, he never found any sarcasm and teasing.

Seville waved to Andalil's greeting and walked to his temporary residence that doubled as a lounge and command room.

The other two elves have been waiting here for a long time: Selena - another priest of the moon elves, the golden elves wizard Trian Dean - may be Seville's closest and sincere friend among the entire elves involved in the jihad.

Trian Dean has a sparse and sharp goatee made of smooth gold whiskers, which is unusual for the elves.

His cold attitude and shining green eyes, coupled with his beard, made him look sharp and gloomy and full of evil.

The mage glanced at Seville and raised his eyebrows, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I met a demon at the ruins of the Moville Manor."

"Demon?" Selena sternly said, putting the feather arrow that was on the ground, "His Excellency Seochellin, are you injured?"

"It's nothing bad," Seville said, turning his attention back to Trian Dean. "I solved it, but its body did not disappear. It was not called."

"The demon elves must have controlled some kind of portal, or the monster is one of the demons trapped in Hell Gate Castle. I heard that many monsters have been wandering in the ruins for many years." Trian Dean raised his brow higher, "Do you know what kind of monster is?"

"A half a foot taller than the taller elf, strong in shape, the pale ram's head has giant arc-shaped horns and has no wings, but on the snake-like tail, there is a tangled metal thorn at the end."

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content behind! "That is the Breezu Demon, sometimes called the sheep rot demon." The mean-faced golden elf looked at Seville more carefully, "You are very lucky to be back after this battle, Seville."

Severell shrugged and refused to comment. Priest Selena pulled out a slender poplar wand from her belt, knelt beside him, muttering the prayer of healing.

The sword master retreated slightly when he was stimulated by the hole, the bruises and bruises, but the pain of all the wounds quickly disappeared under the magic comfort of the moon elves.

He took a deep breath and nodded gratefully to her.

"What do the demons do at the Morveril Manor?" she asked and took back her wand.

"The house is now in ruins." Seville replied sadly:

"It was robbed, its protective magic was broken, and even the cellar below was looted. My mother's relatives were robbed in peace and were abandoned. The thief even stole the Moveril Blade, which had been silent for a hundred years, and now there is nothing there."

"I grew up there, and it was only fifty cold and cold left there. But seeing what it looks like now, we all mistakenly think that the children of Avando have left this land for decades, not decades."

"Who did this atrocity?" Moon elf Selena asked loudly.

"Some people with this emblem." Severell reached out and showed the pendant of the Mercedes-Benz horse to the other two, "I found it on the bones of a dead human in the house."

"I know this mark," said Trian Dean, "this is hung in a tavern in a human village called Midoriya."

Seville narrowed down the list of owners of the pendant and stuffed it back into his coat, "I know."

Selena sighed and shook her head, softly exhorting the sad sword master, "Severell, how long has the bone been there? How long ago has your family house been invaded? Maybe ten years, twenty years, or even fifty years? The humans living in Midoriya Village may have nothing to do with this matter. Don't do anything impulsive."

"I hope so for their own good." Severell stood up and looked at the sunset. "Did our spies find any valuable information in the afternoon?"

"No, everything is fine."

Trian Dean replied, he hesitating for a moment and said, "But the messenger we sent to Silver Moon City has returned."

Seville looked moved and looked at his mean friend, "Will the master of Silvermoon City help us regain Irranser City?"

He was the prince of the Silver Song family, and his father was the ruler of the city of Irlanthur, but two months ago a few elves launched a coup and killed his father.

The elves are a peace-loving race.

The city of Irranser in the Supreme Forest was once built to commemorate Karthas, a great arcane in the ancient Neseril Empire, and it was once reduced to ruins.

It was his ancestors who united the moon elves, wood elves and gold elves of the Supreme Forest who rebuilt this city of peace dominated by elves.

However, as the Silver Song family lost control of Irranser City, countless elves were brutally massacred and had to go to Silver Moon City to take refuge.

This made him realize that everything behind this was pointing to the conspiracy of some evil existences.

He must take advantage of the opportunity of Yongju Island Expeditionary Force to reach the Supreme Forest to regain the peaceful city of his Yinge family.

The prerequisite for doing all this is to get the support of the Silver Moon Alliance.

"Not ideal." Trian Dean caressed his goat Golden Beard and said to him, "Strictly speaking, we didn't see the Lord of Silver Moon at all."

"What does it mean?" Severil looked at him in confusion.
To be continued...