Yrel looked back at the banshee who had most of her body swallowed up by the holy light. She crawled forward with difficulty on the ground, screamed and threw herself at her friend. Death energy spurted out, killing the unconscious banshee.

He was pulled back into his body, but the fire of holy light entangled in the body of the banshee also ignited her armor full of holes. The death lord, burning like a pillar of fire, sat helplessly in the snow.

, her body was so empty that she didn't even have the power to extinguish the flames.

Yirel turned around with difficulty and saw the conspicuous blood stains on the ground.

Dathrohan, who had been pierced through his body, climbed into the position with difficulty. He stretched out his hand and grabbed a Silver Hand battle flag that fell to the ground. He leaned on its flagpole and headed in the direction of the Human Empire.

, using his last breath, he knelt down and struggled to lift his dying body up.

"I...failed..."

"The Holy Light...gives us...eternal life..."

The blood dyed the flagpole red along his hand, a cold wind blew by, and the broken battle flag, which was covered in blood like Dathrohan, fluttered, and the knight who held it up lowered his head, and blood flowed from his helmet.

The blood dripped down little by little, and his body was pierced by a long sword. On this battlefield far from home, a martyr with sincere faith died.

He had a chance to survive, but he did not choose to escape. Yrel watched the fluttering battle flag slowly fall on the lifeless body, wrapping the body, and the pain in his soul subsided slightly.

For a moment, she almost immediately fell into a strong sense of déjà vu.

She remembered what Tyrion once said unintentionally:
Chapter completed!