But he survived the entire spiritual battle, his strength grew rapidly, and he was no longer the same as before.

When the last day of training was over, Lingzhan met the city lord in charge of this small border town and knelt down to accept the honor of being an outside soldier.

After leaving the training camp, he officially joined the external legion and met many seniors of the psychic race.

From childhood to now, it took him more than ten years to finally realize his dream.

It also completed the identity leap.

From then on, he will not be under the jurisdiction of the Psionic Clan, but a member of the Mist Clan, with a status higher than that of the Psionic Clan leader.

Spiritual War is full of hope for the future.

Thinking of the future years of conquests to open up territory for the Mist Tribe, he was so excited that he couldn't sleep all night.

Time flies by like a white horse passing by.

Eight years passed in a blink of an eye.

At this time, Ling Zhan was already a veteran of the small border town.

Over the years, he has experienced brutal battlefield killings and faced life and death crises several times, but he survived them all.

The idea of ​​fighting for the Mist Clan has never wavered in my heart.

The sense of belonging to the psionic tribe in my heart also diminished during this period.

He felt that he was a member of the Mist Tribe, not a humble and weak psychic tribe, and he never even wanted to return to the barren tribe's land.

His sense of belonging to the Mist Tribe made him extremely brave on the battlefield, and he made many military exploits during this period.

He was met by the city lord many times because of his achievements, and was awarded resources and honors.

He also successfully received many promotions in the external army and had his own subordinate soldiers.

On this day, Lingzhan was training soldiers, but he heard heavy rolling thunder coming from a distance.

Like a conditioned reflex, he immediately issued a filial piety order to the soldiers, then rushed back to the room, picked up the war blade, and rushed to the assembly point with his subordinate soldiers.

The soldiers in the small border town quickly gathered like swallows returning to their nests.

Then, under the leadership of the city lord, they organized their army and headed towards the resource battlefield.

After several hours of galloping, they arrived at the battlefield.

I saw the ground of the resource battlefield trembling, and streams of light constantly spurting out from the ground.

A new round of resource spurt has begun.

This place was once a battlefield in ancient times. There are a large number of ancient resources and weapons buried underground, and there are even ancient magic weapons.

There are many such resource areas throughout the second level of the Spirit Realm.

The small war town where Spiritual War is located was built for this resource land.

When the rolling thunder sounds, it heralds the beginning of a new round of war.

In order to seize the resources and magical weapons that spewed out from the ground, the battlefield was instantly filled with shouts of killing, and warriors from all hostile races came one after another, raising their weapons and charging.

The battlefield is like a meat grinder, and lives are constantly dying in order to snatch resources.

After years of conquest, Ling Zhan had already adapted to the cruelty of the battlefield. He led his subordinate soldiers to launch a fearless charge towards the resources wrapped in the stream of light.

"For the glory of the Mist Tribe!"

While roaring, Ling Zhan took the lead and charged into the enemy group, waving the war blade wantonly.

This battle lasted for several days.

During the fierce battle, Ling Zhan was unfortunately injured, but managed to save his life. Finally, dragging his tired body and carrying the rare resources he had snatched, he returned to the small war town.

Due to his outstanding performance in spiritual warfare, he was once again received by the city lord.

Seeing that he was seriously injured, the city lord even personally treated his injuries, and then sent a large amount of healing and training resources.

This made Ling Zhan very moved, and his sense of belonging to the Mist Tribe became even stronger in his heart.

But the turning point of fate came soon.

The frequency of resources spewing out from the battlefield has increased in recent times, and the small war town is in urgent need of additional troops, so the city lord sent a request for help to the Mist King City.

Since a group of external soldiers were recently transferred to other battlefields, this time the elders in charge of foreign wars in Mist transferred a group of Mist warriors to War Town to replace the missing soldiers.

After they arrived, Ling Zhan found that his treatment had changed.

The best resources in the city are enjoyed by the Mist warriors, and they can only use the remaining resources chosen by the Mist warriors.

The city lord once told him that he was already a member of the Mist Clan.

But after the Mist Tribe warriors arrived, he clearly felt that he was being treated differently.

In response, Lingzhan chose to work hard to regulate his emotions and comfort himself.

He feels that as long as he continues to prove his worth, he can receive the same treatment as an official member of the Mist Clan. There is no difference between everyone, and they are all opening up territory for the future of the Mist Clan.

But soon, something happened that changed Spiritual War’s mind.

Another wave of resource gush broke out.

The movement this time is particularly huge, and resources are pouring in.

Ling Zhan and the Mist Clan City Lord rushed to the battlefield together.

This battle was far more brutal than before.

Due to his outstanding performance over the years, Spirit War has become a thorn in the side of many hostile forces. In this battle, the enemies set up an ambush to surround him.

Caught in a tight siege, Ling Zhan did not hesitate to ask for help from the members of the Misty City Lord.

However, in the face of his request for help, the city lord who was robbing the ancient magic weapon simply refused to pay attention and continued to lead the members of the Mist Tribe to snatch the treasure.

Realizing that Ling Zhan had been abandoned by the city lord, all the subordinate soldiers who originally wanted to rescue him also left one after another.

At this time, the only people who were still fighting hard to rescue him were the two tribesmen who had become outside warriors with him, and the other new recruits from the psionic tribe who had joined later.

The battle came to an end, and Ling Zhan was lucky enough not to die, but there was no difference between him and his death.

His arms were cut off and he fell in a pool of blood.

All the psychic tribesmen around him died in the battle to save him, and he was the only one left alive.

Looking at the medical soldiers of the Mist Tribe walking around in the war, but no one cared about his dying self, Ling Zhan's heart hurt.

He suddenly understood one thing. Foreigners are still foreigners. Even if he wears the appearance of the Mist Clan, he is still a foreigner and will never be recognized by the Mist Clan from the bottom of his heart.

Life keeps passing by, and he looks up to the sky.

He knew that his life was completely over. Even if he didn't die, he would have no future since he had lost his value.

Facing the medical staff from the Mist Tribe who came to save him at the end, he looked calm:

"I have lost my value, let me die on the battlefield."

The battlefield medic glanced at Ling Zhan's scarred body, nodded calmly, and then chose to leave.

Before his death, Ling Zhan could not even see the city lord who had personally healed him.

A new round of natural disaster storm in the resource land is about to hit, and warriors from all races are leaving at this time, including the Mist Tribe.

Looking at the sky that was constantly changing colors before the natural disaster struck, Ling Zhan let out a hysterical roar to the sky.

He finally understood one thing, the glory given by the Mist Tribe was all fake, and the Mist Tribe had never been his destination.

At this time, he thought of those tribesmen who sacrificed their lives to fight for him.

Lying among the bloody corpses, Ling Zhan began to cough continuously, tears falling from the corners of his eyes.

He suddenly hated the education within the clan and hated the elders who had taught him since childhood that the Mist clan was the future. They had misled him.

The psychic race is his true destination.

It's just this truth that he didn't understand until he died.

The natural disaster storm rolled up countless corpses, tore everything into powder, and gradually approached.

Ling Zhan closed his eyes at this moment and waited for death to come.

The natural disaster storm stirred up mud and sand as it advanced, and suddenly a golden light suddenly appeared from it, and then flew towards the spirit war at an extremely fast speed.

After the silent impact, a golden leaf shadow suddenly appeared on Ling Zhan's forehead.

Feeling something abnormal in his body, Lingzhan immediately opened his eyes.

I saw countless pictures passing before my eyes, and at the same time, the golden leaf mark on his forehead became increasingly clear.

But Ling Zhan ignored the changes in his body and closed his eyes again.

At this time, the natural disaster storm was approaching, and the entire resource battlefield was about to be shrouded in natural disasters. He had no way to escape.

At the critical moment of life and death, a space vortex suddenly appeared around Ling Zhan.

Feeling the fluctuations in the space, Ling Zhan immediately opened his eyes, and suddenly found a little Roudu boy carrying a schoolbag walking out of the space vortex.

"Who?" Ling Zhan asked immediately.
Chapter completed!