Chapter 592 443 The Ancient Saint Is Back (No Protagonist)

The branches kept beating at them, and the flickering light confused their senses, but they still rushed forward with a clear and irresistible image burning in their hearts.

One of the bighorns was subdued, and as the leaves and mud flew away, the sharp roots cut its legs. It let out a huge roar and fell with a loud bang, roaring in pain, its hind legs broken. Groups of angry wood spirits emerged from the bushes and bitten. After struggling for a while, their blood formed a thick trickle on the ground.

The great horned beast's companions did not stop to help it, or even acknowledge that it had been captured by the vengeful wood spirits of the forest. The dazzling light obscured its form, its roar of pain was masked by blood bubbles, it gurgled, and finally died.

The remaining beasts continued to rush forward, leaping to avoid grabbing roots and whipping branches. The forest struggled to stop the intruders from advancing, sending words of warning through the tree's root network, the fluctuating energy in the snapping and crackling of the branches. The cries of wild beasts and wood spirits echoed. The forest gradually enveloped them, their paths changing and reshaping themselves, but they kept running, even beyond the magical barrier of the forest.

The nostrils of the beasts burned with the most delicious smell, the flesh of living creatures.

Mask Heglia moved through the dusk, shards of starlight lighting her path and scattering the frost on the trunks of oak, elder, and ash trees. As she fell from the branch, a group of tiny figures followed her, gleaming with play like dust.

Heglia moved silently like water, settling on the ground like a dancer. Her slender and muscular body was covered by a long loincloth and chestcloth, and a dark cloak covered with thorns and thorns. In his right hand he holds a bone-hilted sword with a blade beautifully carved into the shape of a leaf, and at his waist hangs another sword of the same design. Her face was covered by Loic's mask, and as she stood, her pale limbs shone in the moonlight, revealing a beautiful network of tattoos.

As he hummed a pleasant song, Heglia stood in a small clearing and carefully studied the frozen earth. The enemy's footprints were unmistakable. Deep and wide hoof prints left traces in the frost, a scar of putrefaction left on the white frosty ground. She lowered her body and traced the footprints with a long and elegant finger. Then she nodded with satisfaction. There was no fear on the face behind the mask, only excitement.

"Very good."

Hegria's words dispersed her shimmering entourage like a cloud of mist, and as the wood spirits tumbled around her, tiny forms were captured in more detail by the light, some spiny, some scaly like snakes, but all All were shrouded in a thin wing-like light.

Heglia, who ignored the wood spirit, stood up and looked around the open space. Her eyes fell on two small shadows. The shadows were not wood spirits, but a pair of weasels that had been following her, surrounding her with flowing grace. Holding her.

"Mormo, Mauro." Heglia said while bowing solemnly.

The pair of weasels did not ask for a seal, but looked at Heglia thoughtfully, but ultimately did not answer.

Heglia, who received no response, could only continue to explore the open space. There was a broad oak tree a few meters away, curled up like an old wild boar. She raised her sword and walked toward the oak tree, chanting a short poem as she approached, and then carefully inserted the blade between the ridges of the bark. After pulling out the blade, she put the metal against her lips, closing her eyes and savoring the thick resin taste.

The tall figure stiffened as the essence of the tree merged with itself, Hegeria tilted her head back, reveling in her growing power, and as she did so, her hood fell down, revealing her dyed orange hair .

Hegaria's almond-shaped eyes flickered as the sap spread through her body. Sap flows along her pale limbs, her tattoos undulating as if haunted by a ghostly breeze. She waved her shoulders under her cloak, soaking in the feeling. Then, after carefully sealing the tree wound with a piece of bark, she turned around on her heels and ran away into the distance.

The outsiders left a trail of destruction wherever they passed. Heglia looked at every broken branch and broken root with scorn. Although she was still young and had only spent sixty summers, she Having had enough experience, she knew this situation was unusual. Even the clumsiest beasts will try to cover their tracks, but now, the prey seem happy to be discovered? The beasts seem to be announcing their presence with proud and deep roars?

"Stupid! Don't they realize that the forest is waking up? Have they forgotten that spring is just days away? Once the trees break out of their slumber, nothing will be safe."

A smile appeared on Heglia's face, she had made her decision, she would be ruthless, she would act decisively. She felt a rush of joy at this, knowing that her pack would follow her.

A low trill blew from Heglia's mouth, and soon she received the same response somewhere in the east. As she made her way through glittering hollows and frosty woodland, she faded in and out, appearing briefly like a Kodama while Mormo and Mauro chased after her like an extra pair of shadows.

Heglia reached a narrow, moonlit valley and crouched down at the confluence of two frozen streams, sniffing the air and assessing the mood of the trees. There are paths in the forest, but they are rarely believable and never the same. Under her father's teachings, like other Asrai, she learned to listen to the sounds of the forest. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the trees. Then she opened her eyes and stared at the hoof prints she was following.

“The enemy stopped here, they waited by the frozen water, then scurried off to the broken glacier of trees on the north shore, taking the path I would take if I were looking for the quickest route home, snort."

Mormo and Mauro meandered out of the trees and climbed onto Heglia's shoulders. They did not follow Heglia's gaze, but turned their heads to look elsewhere.

"Tired?" Heglia frowned. She heard movement and a gentle breath. The words came from her mouth as she lowered her head again to check the footprints.

With a burst of deep laughter, "Wild Dance" Vetier appeared, his attire as primitive as Heglia's, with tattoos and a loincloth and nothing else. But the resemblance ended there. He was a head taller than Heglia, with a broad chest and muscles as strong as twisted steel, making him a giant by elven height standards. He had no cloak, and his long hair was as bizarre as Hegeria's, with long, greasy blue hair falling around his prominent chin.

"Fin, you still have no sense of humor, but I'm happy to wait for you to rest." Vetier's serious tone lasted only a few seconds, and then a bright smile appeared on his face.

Heglia laughed and looked up at Vetier's face. Fen was her nickname. Only her father would call her that, and "Wild Dance" Vetier was her father.

"It seems that they are heading straight to our hall."

"Is it a coincidence?" Heglia nodded, agreeing with her father's statement. She stood up, looked at the other side of the stream, and raised the question in her heart.

"Is it important?"

The third Aslay came out of the shadows. He was different from the Whittiers and his daughter. Aslay had a strong figure and clear eyes, while he was hunched over and had a gloomy face. His face is wrinkled, with thin lips and turned-down corners. The right side of his face is made up of silvery scars, apparently the result of a horrific burn, while the left side is obscured by a featureless wooden mask. His left arm was bent like a withered tree, and one of his eyes peered out from his pale skin.

"They move through the forest as easily as we do. They are moving fast. If not controlled, they will reach our hall in two hours." Aslay's voice was a hoarse wheeze, and he knelt awkwardly. , grabbed a handful of rotten leaves. When he squeezed it with his hands, the leaves squeezed out black liquid. He raised his head and let the liquid flow into his mouth. After a moment, he opened his eyes, stood up again, and said solemnly.

"No control? There are five of us and there are only thirty of them. I think we can control them." A proud smile appeared on Heglia's face. She turned to look at Karan and raised her eyebrows. road.

"Then take action, you have the final say." Vetier shrugged indifferently, then he picked up a branch and braided it with his hair.

Looking at the Vetier father and daughter who were running across the ice so quickly that their feet were so light that they didn't even leave a trace, Karan shrugged and stroked his scarred face. For a moment, he wanted to face the others. He walked in the opposite direction, but he quickly shook his head. Then he untied a small leather bag hanging around his neck, took out a handful of seeds, and cast his gaze toward the stars above his head.

"I can't imagine what it would be like to have Phil Daric ruled by Heglia, well, how could I put up with this fool? Even for the sake of my children?"

Karan said as he removed his mask, revealing a mess of scars. He popped the seed into his mouth and closed his eyes, and after a minute or so his shoulders relaxed and the pained expression disappeared from his face.

"I have to...when I leave..."

The thought was so terrifying that Karan couldn't finish the sentence. He finally shook his head, put the mask back on, and started chasing Heglia.

When Hegeria felt the fusion of various powers, the shackles on her body disappeared, and her soul merged with the forest. The winter branches were a gray-green blur around her, and she showed grace as she ran, weaving through the jungle. In less than half an hour, she arrived at the target location. Without pausing, she easily jumped onto the branch of an oak tree and looked down at a wide open space.

What she saw made Heglia sick. She had hunted down outsiders countless times, but their presence always shocked her. It wasn't the appearance of the beast but a deeper feeling that the beast's thick fur reeked of disease and sweat, but they were hollow. No matter how bestial they may seem, with their cloven feet and greasy manes, these children of Chaos are nothing but a void, a wound in the soul of the forest.

Heglia sneered at the beasts, their leader a massive, scarred minotaur wrapped in human skin, with a bloodstained thigh bone hanging from his belt that made a terrible sound when the minotaur moved. The minotaur was bent over what looked like an old broken tree root, and she moved forward quietly to see what the minotaur was doing.

The minotaur was grunting and hissing, as if in conversation with something.

As the last of the daylight disappeared from the horizon, the world was illuminated by the light of the twin moons. As the minotaur moved to one side, grasping its leathery neck in anger, Heglia glimpsed a flash of light on the tree root. It was a pale wood spirit, a tiny glittering spirit, huddled on a moss-covered stone.

Heglia turned her head and looked at the glowing shape behind her in confusion. These wood spirits had followed her from the first sign of impending violence, eager as always to see blood and fun. One of them floated over, a slender snake bone, a pale rose chain, a hideous smile and a dirty rosehip helmet.

As if to ease the embarrassment, the snake Zhang opened his mouth and smiled at Heglia, revealing his needle-like front teeth, and the rose thorn sword swung with his tail while laughing.

"What's going on, Gor? Did your brothers betray their homeland?" Heglia pointed at the light under the Minotaur and asked in a low voice.

The snake twisted its body violently and cursed, then it rose up and looked down at the scene in the distance. When it saw other wood spirits communicating with the Minotaur, the pale flames in its eye sockets flickered brighter. It waved the thorn sword to call on other wood spirits to come over, and the wood spirits who obeyed its orders trembled through the air and came to its side, looking at the Minotaur in the distance. These wood spirits were as confused as it was, and then they quarreled in sharp and undulating language.

After getting no useful answer, Heglia put his finger on his lips and blew a short bird song. Then she got a response, and then she heard more for the next few minutes, each one coming from a little further away. She nodded in satisfaction, and as the abominable beasts prepared to leave, she jumped down from the branch.

Heglia fell through the bushes, pretending to stagger to the ground, and the beasts turned to face her and roared.

The great horned beasts, their trunks covered with scars, dirt, and blood, their noses trembling with excitement, moved in a circle around Heglia. Some had bull heads like minotaurs, and some had curling, swirling ram horns on their heads, their skins were red, and their mouths were filled with fangs.

The beastmen were as thinly dressed as Heglia, but unlike Heglia's pale and flexible body, they were muscular and hairy behemoths. As they crowded closer, raising their vicious axes, Heglia could see the hunger burning in their blood-red eyes, but they did not attack. They roared and churned the ground with their hooves, waiting for the minotaur to make its first attack.

Heglia frowned as the minotaur pushed through the herd of greathorns, her head splitting at the sight of the minotaur so closely.

The minotaur was nearly 3 meters tall, with thick spiked iron plates wrapped around its huge arms, its huge bull head drooping between its fat shoulders, and the stench of rotting flesh pouring from its mouth as it approached Heglia. It stared at Heglia with its blood-red bull eyes and raised its broken axe. With a roar and a flock of birds startled from the trees, the beastmen war group moved.

Fir Darrick, the Deceiver's Grove, is a supreme territory in Athel Loren, ruled by Vethil the Wild Dance. This is the holy place of Loik, and shrines dedicated to him can be seen everywhere. Here you can find the landmark building: the War Dancers' Banquet Hall, which is the closest thing to home for the War Dancers. As a result, the glades here are always filled with laughter, although many of them are malicious. Every deception needs a victim, and the consequences can range from injured pride to slow death.

Now, the deception begins.

As the beastmen charge, Heglia chooses to turn and flee, running wildly on the frosty avenue.

The Great Horned Beasts roar past, followed by the Minotaur, stomping heavily in the trees, realizing that the Minotaur, who has been led off the original path, roars and commands, but the Great Horned Beasts no longer obey its call, hungry, too hungry...

For Heglia, the pursuit of the Beastmen is as slow as ivy climbing a tree trunk. She could easily shake off, but as the Beastmen clumsily cross the forest grass and gullies, she always hangs on, trying not to run too far. She moved through the trees like a ghost, taunting the Beastmen with her staccato song, leaving a dark melody that echoed through the glittering branches, mocking the Beastmen's clumsy, awkward pursuit.

Leading the trail of the dullards, disgusting, stinking, and doomed; dancing in the woods of the deceivers, burying their bones.

Singing the ballads of fools, clumsy, fat, and slow; offering them to the Everqueen, the vines, and the crows.

As Hegria thought about the aptness of her words and the exquisiteness of her melody, she grinned and laughed wildly.

After a few minutes, the minotaur stopped chasing, roaring at the greathorns to turn back, but Hegria's song made the greathorns so frenzied that they were deaf to other sounds.

When the path becomes narrow and difficult, the bighorns begin to pant and cough, stumbling over roots and wrestling from jagged branches, but they won't stop. They could not let the dancing ghost escape, and the harder the chase became, the angrier and more determined they became, growling and grunting as Hegaria bounded through the dark forest avenue.

After dozens of minutes of a furious chase, the bighorn came to a clearing, a circular area of ​​shrubs and gravel that ended on a rock overlooking a cliff.

Heglia stopped on the edge of the cliff, and when she could no longer escape, she turned to face the Beastmen.

The beastmen lumbered out of the woods, panting, heavy axes dragging frost. But when they saw their prey trapped on the edge of the cliff, they howled with joy, raised their tattered weapons, and stamped their hooves on the frozen ground.

Heglia calmly drew her sword and leaned down in a low posture, still smiling when the monsters approached. Her smile was not directed at the beastmen, but beyond them, towards the four slender figures who quietly walked out of the shadows of the trees.

The beastman closest to Heglia noticed something strange. It turned its head and looked at it with its crimson eyes. When its eyes suddenly widened and prepared to issue a warning, Heglia's companions had already started dancing.

Wettier and the other war dancers danced towards the monsters at an astonishing speed, twisting and turning in the air, so that the beastmen seemed to be surrounded by elves. Their movements are as smooth as flowing water, and each step carries an elegant power, as if they are part of nature and integrated with the forest.

The figures surrounding the rude monsters were as vague and formless as the winter breeze as they tried to defend themselves. They moved as if to welcome the melody of Herculia's song, and the poignant melody grew louder as they staggered in confusion, trying to catch their attacker.

The bloody dance didn't last long. When Hegria joined the blade madness, the big horned beasts fell to their knees one after another, scratching blankly at the wounds all over their bodies. The deep fatal wounds seemed to appear out of thin air. And it seems to come with the sound of singing.

When the last monster fell, Heglia was left to fight alone. The other war dancers began to retreat, shaking the blood on their swords, and quietly watching her acrobatic performance.

Heglia strode forward, wielding her sword, and wandered across the battlefield like a cunning cheetah. Her movements are graceful and swift, and every attack is so accurate that it makes people fall in love with her. Finally, she made one last beautiful spin and pierced the Minotaur's neck with her sword. The owner's head rolled off and fell into the cliff.

The victory in this battle was Hegaria's. She demonstrated the unparalleled strength and skill of the war dancer, winning a victory for Athel Loren and offering the highest praise to Loic's glory. However, what is even more striking is the impeccable decisiveness she displayed.

"So few! It's not fun."

Heglia was so drunk with bloody lust that she did not hear her father's words. Crouching next to the body, she pulled out a dagger and began cutting off the scalp, whispering as she did so. It was only after she cut off a piece of scalp that she noticed her father looking at her and stood up, wiping the blood from her cheek.

"Fin, what's troubling you?" Vetier looked at Heglia expressionlessly. After looking at each other for a moment, he asked slowly.

"I'm not sure, this is our home, father, why do you want to leave here? Do you think we should seek help?" Heglia's eyes were wide open and flashing, as if she was about to shed tears.

"Something is strange, I can't..." When Vetier noticed that others were watching him closely, his voice gradually trailed off, and after his face turned into a scowl, he sighed and continued, "You want Do you listen to my advice?"

"I don't want to! But I know that with the end of this trial, I should know anyway."

"Thank the gods, you are not as stubborn as I was when I was young." After saying this, Vetier turned around and nodded to the bloody wreckage, then continued, "Take care of the bodies, the forest is waking up. Even in these The forest will also find nourishment in evil creatures.”

"I know what you're thinking, Finn, we can't risk failure, the forest will get what it needs, and we have work to do. But... times are changing, Loic told me something, mine There is a fork in the road ahead, which is why I am going to hand over Phil Darik to your management." After the others dispersed, Vetier came to the cliff and looked at the night sky, waiting for Heglia to come over. , he said slowly.

"Are you going to follow that outsider? Is this Loic's will? Or is it your idea? Are you tired of this place?"

"Fin, do you still remember what I told you about Ulthuan when you were sitting in my arms when you were a child?" Vetier said while no longer looking at the night sky. He reached out and stroked Heglia's hair. Like he did when he was a child, when Hegaria nodded, he continued, "According to the elven laws, Ulthuan was given to the elves by the ancient saints, and the elves have the right to live and use it. Athel Loren? This forest is The Garden of the Ancient Saint, the Ancient Saint has never transferred or given this place to the elves, never, not before, not now, not in the future..."

Heglia's mouth opened wide. The impact of this information was too great for her, and she couldn't accept it for a while.

“This is also the reason why I chose to take the fork in the road. In the future… I don’t know what will happen in the future. I really don’t know. Maybe I will leave this forest? Finn, he is not an outsider. He is different from the previous envoys from Ulthuan. He is not a guest! You must know one fact, now! The Old Saint is back!” (End of this chapter)