"But there are 200,000 orcs outside the city now! The slums have fallen!" Vivian said in a crying voice.
When Fang Zhiyi heard the word "slum", Lily's image flashed through his mind. He became a little flustered and stopped listening to their argument.
Suddenly, his hand was grasped by something soft, and then raised: "He can fight for the kingdom!"
Fang Zhiyi looked at the important figures around him blankly. The king pointed at him tremblingly and said, "You must swear to disband the Elves Corps immediately after the war."
Fang Zhiyi thought about the little girl who brought him broth, flowers, and even hemostatic herbs when he was injured, and looked at Vivian holding his hand tightly.
"I swear."
At the altar at midnight, the orcs outside the city blew their horns continuously. Hearing that the Knights had suffered heavy losses, Fang Zhiyi stood in the middle of the altar. He clearly remembered the powerful forbidden technique his teacher had taught him. Although it came at the cost of some of his life force, perhaps it was for this moment.
The old guys in the Magician's Association insisted on using light magic to purify his magic circle, which made his feet feel a tingling sensation, like being cut by a knife. They said this was to prevent "darkness from invading the kingdom."
Fang Zhiyi began to chant, feeling the spiritual power in his body surge out continuously: "Use my body as the furnace, and my blood as the firewood."
There was light around the altar, and countless black magic auras swirled up. The light spells under his feet burned his feet. Fang Zhiyi saw Gong Yu biting his lips and looking nervous not far away, and Rhine beside her with a defensive look and his hand on the sword at any time.
Black magic soared into the sky, and Fang Zhiyi felt that his mental strength and vitality were constantly disappearing. At this time, the gate of the royal city had been breached. The orcs, who had not yet had time to cheer, realized that something was wrong. The elves crawled out from the corpses, with pieces of flesh hanging on their bodies, some human and some orc. Their eyeballs had long disappeared, leaving only a pile of black holes.
The orcs' charge came to an abrupt halt before dawn. When the orcs saw the tide of elves, their roars of fear were more piercing than the horns.
Fang Zhiyi stood on the altar, feeling that his heart was being burned by flames. Every time he summoned a spirit, an invisible needle would pierce his heart.
He saw the princess riding on a horse, the holy spear drawing a golden arc, the Rhine Guards beside her, and they rushed out with the knights.
"Are they cheering for me? When the war is over, they will know that I am a hero." Fang Zhiyi was already in a trance.
He wanted to laugh, but coughed up a mouthful of black blood. He saw his fingertips becoming transparent, like smoke blown away by the wind.
In the distance, the prince suddenly pointed in a certain direction, and Rhine immediately led his troops to charge. Amid the shouting and fighting, someone's voice mingled with the wind: "Look, His Highness the prince has repelled the orc vanguard!"
When the first ray of sunlight shone on the spire of the palace, Fang Zhiyi's eyes went dark and he fainted.
When he woke up again, he was lying in a cold dungeon. The guard was sitting outside the cell with an expressionless face, just staring at him.
Fang Zhiyi spoke slowly after a moment of silence. He felt his lips were already chapped. "Have the orcs retreated?"
The guard looked at him with a hint of pity in his cold eyes, and nodded after a moment.
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