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The edge of the Sleeping Forest has long since lost its former tranquility, and in fact, the Sleeping Forest can almost be said to have no edge.

Overlooking the entire battlefield, the towers are embedded in the forest area like nails, and they are like the sharp teeth of the canine teeth biting into the forest, they are surrounded by large or small circles of scorched earth, and in some places there are narrow lines of fire that are constantly burning, that is the edge of the Argus army sweeping the control area, the wounds caused by the war to nature are like the ugly scars on the beautiful skin of a young girl burned by Yanzhòng, which may heal, but will never disappear.

Hunter stood guard on the outer ramparts of the construction tower with a magic wand in hand. Because this stronghold is not in the front line, if it weren't for the temporary military station, field hospital, and supply warehouse in the short term, it might not even be built here, adding the "Daylight Technique" The lighting fixtures throughout the night also basically eliminated the possibility of the Night Elf raiding party from penetrating the heavy defensive line to attack in, to be exact, since the camp was established, not even a single Night Elf cold arrow has been seen, so the defense of this stronghold has always been very fragile, only four low-level mages patrol the ramparts every night, in fact, Hunter is only a trainee mage apprentice - but what can be done, this is war.

"Hunter, go down and have a drink!" Sayers greeted Hunter, a bearded but kind-hearted mage with a thick bear build, the largest mage robe on his body like a shirt. However, Hunter sometimes thinks that Sayes is like everything, just not like a mage, and even Sayes himself admits that as long as it is more than a third-level spell, he can't remember what he says, and he forgets the one in front of him, even if he rubs the ancestral gem pendant around his neck vigorously with the old method. While other mages often mocked Sayers for this, Hunter knew that the guys were actually desperately hungry. Sayes also said that when he was a child, he actually liked to play horseback and fight wars more than to bury his head in studying how many ways to write a magic rune, but his parents decided that in Argus, only mages could be considered promising, and they were also considered to be Vatan figures, and their energy was not big or small, and Sayers was mixed up until he was thirty or forty years old, and he really became a full-fledged mage - the only thing that was unsatisfactory was that he was drafted into the army.

"Are the guards going to drink in time, what should I do if I am caught by Lord Kraven! A batch of strategic materials has just arrived today, I think it is better to stay here and patrol honestly!"

"Relax! This hell war started before you and my grandfather's grandfather was born, and God knows if it will end after our grandson's grandson is born!" Sayas knocked on the battlements with his staff nonchalantly, leaned out and looked at the chaotic barracks below, the laughter of the low-ranking sergeants drinking and merry, and the painful wails of the wounded were mixed together, organized and undisciplined, these rookie militiamen who would never be issued with high-level weapons were just cannon fodder temporarily recruited to attract elven arrows after Argus adopted a large-scale offensive strategy, and he didn't even know if there was a tomorrow, so how could anyone care?

Sayers sniffled, though Hunter was sure he couldn't smell anything but smoke, "Come on, boy, the damn empire doesn't need you to do your duty!"

"Don't go down, I'll inspect the situation in the south for you, come back soon!"

"What a little ghost, then I'll bring you a jug of good wine as a thank you, haha-don't look like that, how can a man not drink!" Sayes hummed a little song from his same family heirloom and walked down the barrier, quickly blending into the shadowy soldiers who were dangling by the pillars of directional magic lighting.

But aren't we more mages...... Hunter smiled wryly and looked into the distance. It was dark tonight, there was no moon, even the starlight was fleeting, and the other tower on the far horizon shone faintly in his eyes like burnt charcoal, blurred in the deep darkness and distant shadows.

Mages do not keep vigil. This is a famous quote once uttered by a very great mage, but it is clear that the commander of the camp, Lord Kraven, does not intend to popularize this body. Looking up at the stars on such a lonely night, Hunter even wondered if he was a mage, and a character like him only needed a magic glasses with Eagle Eye to replace him, not to mention that Hunter didn't know Eagle Eye right now - perhaps, his whole value was just a skilled worker who could unleash two magic missiles and flip a lever.

A cold wind mixed with the smell of ash blew through, causing Hunter to wake up and stop his thoughts. He tightened the neckline of his mage robes and stood in a gloomy position - why hadn't Sayers come back?

"Get out of the way, do you think your thing looks good under a pillar of magic light?"

Amid the laughter, the drunken soldier made an obscene gesture to Sayyas, the "Bear Mage", and staggered towards the outside of the camp.

"Uh-" The soldier burped, narrowed his eyes at a beam of white light, and cursed indistinctly.

He found half of the trunk and staggered behind the tree, dodging the annoying circles of light that swept back and forth. The thick tree was now only six or seven feet tall, and the section was charred and uneven, and I don't know what kind of spell had made it like this.

The trickling water poured over the stump and into the already cooled embers beneath your feet.

The soldier closed his eyes in comfort, and his body began to shake rhythmically back and forth. A long time ago, he had been uncomfortable for a few days without food because he had failed to be selected into the regular army of the Empire, but now it seems that it is better to be a baggage soldier who is at home in peacetime and recruits in wartime...... He lifted his pants, patted his belly, which was already a little protruding from excessive drinking, rubbed his drunken eyes, and prepared to go back and have a few more drinks, get a good night's sleep, and he should be able to go back to the rear tomorrow.

Suddenly, he saw what seemed to be a little red fire floating on the stump. An unusually cold aura soaked the soldier's whole body at once, turning all the liquor into cold sweat and precipitating it out of the pores.

The soldier opened his mouth as if to shout something, but a bloody arrow came out of his mouth, knocking out a front tooth and pinning his head to the trunk like two pieces of tissue paper.

He had a near-death convulsion, clutching at the trunk of the tree, his two eyeballs that were gradually turning white and spreading to the top of the charred trunk. At the last moment, the soldier finally saw that it was not a red fire, but a beautiful and bewitching eye.

The owner of the eyes watched as the Argus soldier drooped completely, like a piece of flesh hung by a hook.

She turned her head to look at the camp beneath the tower—her slender body shrouded in a dark black air, which at first glance looked like a deeper, darker silhouette in the dark night.

"You bastard! you take an extra sip!" Sayes angrily reached for his flask, and after a few strokes, the muscular veteran was overwhelmed by the mage's brute force - the soldiers around the fire roasted their meat burst into laughter.

"...... What a bear......" The warrior rubbed his wrist and complained, "How did you come up with the idea of becoming a mage?"

"Hmph!" Sayes took a sip of wine and waved his arm triumphantly, "Serve it!

Sayers stopped suddenly, sniffling in confusion.

"What does it smell like?"

The others were taken aback by the chattering appearance of the god Sayas, if a person has something unique, it will not be covered up, although they have not been together for a long time, but the amazing physique and strange power of this mage, as well as his nose that is many times more than a dog, can be said to be well known, a huge camp of hundreds of people, Sayes can find the group of people who are roasting meat without any mistake, not to mention the guy who was negligent for a moment and forgot to screw the lid of the wine jug.

"What's wrong?" the gathered soldiers looked around—they had deliberately found a more remote location, as the pesky regular army soldiers and mages were rare on the outskirts of the camp, with the exception of Sayers, of course.

"What does it smell like...... Who's that...... Who's coming? Where did he pee, why hasn't he come back?"

"Well, yes, I'm going to look for ......" The warrior who grabbed the flask with Sayers stood up with his sword in hand.

With a sharp and sharp sound of wind, he shook a little.

A few bits of warm liquid sprayed on Sayyas's face, and then the warrior's body pressed down—

There weren't even exclamations, just the sound of arrows sneering at death, and the short thud of stabbing into flesh.

The black elves swept into the camp like geistes, they didn't actually hide their whereabouts, but they moved too fast, and the deadly arrows harvested life like dead ants, until the last elf jumped over the fire where a string of roasted meat of Sayes still remained, and the cries of terror and battle were heard from the camp.

Hunter stood on the rampart, and even forgot to crouch down to dodge - the attackers seemed to be Night Elves, but they seemed to be distinctly different, their bodies were even vaguely black in the light of the fully activated illuminated hedrons, and they walked through the chaotic soldiers with impunity, bringing death and utter fear, but they did not have the sophisticated and orderly fighting style of ordinary Night Elves, and they did not even bother to shoot an arrow at an obvious target like Hunt.

Magical fluctuations swept over Hunter, radiating in a divergent ring that covered the chaotic camp.

The movements of the agus militia were noticeably sluggish, but the black elves mostly paused, seemingly unaffected.

The Construct Tower flickered several more times in quick succession - all with a wide range of negative spells. Anyway, those guys in the camp are no match for the enemy even if they drink a bucket of agility potions, so what difference does it make if they are slow, blind, and weak?

"Cowards, don't be stunned! Aim at them—" A mage who was in charge of the night patrol with Hunter was not aware of his madness and tried to exploit such a scene, but unfortunately, before he could attract the attention of the camp commander, Lord Kraven, a sharp arrow piercing the skull ended his military career forever.

Hunter retreated in horror, leaning against the cold tower wall and shivering, unable to utter any syllables, as the heavens testified that he was only in the first battle!

The militia of Argus, who survived only because of the negligence or haphazardness of the black elves, surprisingly did not curse the mage bastards who hid in the tower, regardless of their own life or death, because they were shocked to find that the regular swordsmen wielding silver armor and silver armor had joined the battlefield, but the situation had not changed much - the black elves completely contradicted the perception that the elves were elegant and agile but also delicate at the same time, they put away their bows and arrows, pounced on the enemy like ghosts, and tore them apart with their bare hands.

In the conflicts and wars that have lasted for hundreds of years, the Argus have never encountered such Night Elves. Although there were only a dozen of them in total, and the number of silver-armored swordsmen alone was several times more than them, when the elves wrapped in the shadows made a sizzling sound, the spontaneous panic poured out, as if they were choked by the hands of demons, especially the eyes of the night elves that shone with a little crazy evil red light in the deep darkness - shouldn't the eyes of the night elves be white?