Chapter 334: The Whole Territory Falls
The mirror god overlooked the world in the crystal mirror and used his wings to draw a few strokes on the book, penetrating the influence it had recently spread.
The originally empty and invisible island gradually gave birth to crystal clear crystals, and mirrors reflecting all things in the world reappeared on the island.
The world is in its eyes.
It once again sank its consciousness into the old man's body, stroking the crystal mirrors.
The shrill and old laughter disturbed the tranquility of the early morning and made the waves even more noisy.
In the depths of this ocean, in a place no one knows, a chess player returned to its position.
Hotar immersed his thoughts into the mirror and instantly reached an infinite height.
The blue planet is right at its feet. All living creatures are connected into a long river by fate, and this vast river points to its origin.
Tzeentch is the writer of destiny, and as his proudest work, the Lord of Change certainly has similar authority.
Mortals believe that all planets are floating among billions of stars. If Hotar had not been above this planet, it would not have paid any attention to a grain of sand in this vast universe.
This is an extremely humble planet, just like the creatures it carries, inconspicuous in the vast universe.
Those puppets in the mortal world always sing praises to the miracle of the birth of life, but there are countless such "miracles" in the universe, and only narrow-minded mortals will admire them. Hotar is certainly not a mortal.
It has destroyed countless similar planets and witnessed countless identical places of life, so it does not think that the existence of a planet with life is such an incredible miracle.
The only difference is that this planet has so many powerful life forms that it is a bit strange. It should have been wiped out from the sea of stars eight thousand years ago, but it has stood firm for eight thousand years in the face of Isil's power.
It was a brave and fearless feat, but sacrifice and persistence were meaningless in the face of the tide of chaos.
For Hotar, the rebellion of mortals is a good pastime. It likes to collect the brilliant individuals among them and then cover up their brilliance with luxury and arbitrariness.
Hotar fell downward, leaving the clouds and stars behind, and in the next blink of an eye, it stepped on the soil of the old world.
The sun can no longer be seen in Ostermark, as blood-sucking insects have raised countless undead spirits in this human land.
Hotar's projection walked on the streets of Baker Harbor, passing through dense skeletons, crossing the temporary protective bunkers and street fortresses built by local residents, and walked straight to the imperial general who organized the local resistance.
Poor mortal, he couldn't even see the gods right before his eyes.
The middle-aged but still strong mortal arranged a variety of counterattack plans on the table. Hotar saw the letter he had just written and stamped, but which messenger could deliver the letter to the emperor from the tide of the dead? I don't know what it means.
Why bother? All he needs is a prayer, a sincere one, and the mirror spirit will grant his wish.
Angelo Veneva, the military councillor of Bakerhaven, a staunch supporter of the Ostermark Alliance, and the Imperial General, carefully sealed the letter with wax and softly called for his champion.
Almost at the moment the voice fell, "Imperial Sword Saint" Ximili stepped into his study.
It seemed that he had been waiting outside the house. The general could understand his feelings, as could every person in Ostermark.
Who could have imagined that when they opened their eyes and walked onto the streets in the morning, they would be greeted by an endless stream of dead souls? It was like a joke played by Morel. The vampires didn't even fight them, but just went about calling the dead back to the world.
The current vampire count was probably a madman. No soldier could guess what they wanted to do. They just wanted to use the endless undead to divide the cities of Ostermark? No matter how absurd it was, the crazy actions of the undead did threaten the safety of the residents of the Ostermark Alliance. Cities or fortresses with garrisons still had the power to fight back, but civilians in other places had no military protection.
Of course, Angro believed that every Ostermarker had experienced countless hardships and they knew how to deal with this situation.
There will be brave men who stand up and lead the people, just like Sigma 2,300 years ago. There will always be heroes who appear in times of crisis and lead the people of the empire through difficulties.
They may be insignificant, just butchers or lumberjacks on weekdays, but when danger comes, every warrior buried by life will bloom with a brilliance brighter than gold and issue a firm cry to the panicked people.
Angelo believed in them, just as they believed that the "Fifth Ostermark Legion" in Beckhaven would repel the undead in the capital and gradually recover their homeland.
"Don't be afraid! Mor will protect us! Hold on! We will wait here for rescue from the Fifth Legion of Ostermark!"
Wearing ill-fitting chain mail, Tori patrolled the village, encouraging every timid villager.
The organized militia blocked the wooden door at the entrance of the village with tree trunks and water tanks. The tall wooden wall was people's last psychological comfort. Yes, psychological comfort, it could not stop vampires.
Tori nervously stroked the sword mixed with silver powder with his hand. This was left to him by his grandfather "The Undead Killer" Barry before he went to sea. His chain mail was a relic of his father.
Their family has served in the Black Guard for generations. Tori should have been in the army now, but the captain inexplicably suppressed his application to join the group a few days ago.
Perhaps Lord Cimeli thought Tory unqualified, and even a handwritten letter from old Barry couldn't change his mind.
It's a shame, Tori will prove herself.
He is also a soldier and has received military training since childhood. It is impossible for him to fail the screening.
The sound of bones scraping against wood was extremely harsh, and the dark clouds in the sky blocked out the sunlight, making the day seem like night.
It's like a ghost story come true.
The resurrected skeletons couldn't push open the wooden wall, and Tori was only worried that the vampires would suddenly attack the village.
Things always take a turn for the worst.
A loud bang came from in front of Tori, shaking the entire village.
The screams of the young girls and the panic of the cowards mixed together, and the crying of the children was like a trembling crowd, powerless and weak.
Tori gripped his sword tightly, leaned his back against the nearest wall, and stared at the street to the east.
At the end of the street, there was a long and narrow hole in the heavy hardwood door.
Some monster tore it apart with its claws, undoubtedly a vampire, only vampires could have such amazing strength.
It seemed to be playing a game and did not launch a direct attack on the village.
It wasn't an equal fight, but the opponent's contempt succeeded in arousing Tori's anger.
This was the opportunity for the teachings of his elders to come to Tori's mind, and the guidance of his ancestors allowed him to suppress his anger.
(End of this chapter)
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