Mage Legend-Chapter 344 - 25 episodes The Sound of Music

Travel and Travel Beyond Travel Chapter Twenty-Five: Song

<br>The pace of the undead army has never slowed down; after losing life, they no longer feel fatigue. Meanwhile, the agony of unrest and jealousy and hatred toward all living beings with vitality will accompany them forever.

For those elf warriors who have become corpses, the undead pay absolutely no more attention. Whether vampires or ghosts, they glide silently past those battle lines, continuing in the direction of the Erutalon River. Although heading directly to the Heather Holy Mountain could save more distance, the undead seem indifferent to wasting a little time. To them, time is as meaningless as compassion and conscience.

However, Lynch believes that to avoid the layered ambushes of the elf archers in the forest, flying over the Erutalon River is a good choice. It offers enough cover and avoids falling into ambushes due to obstructed views in the woods.

Due to the appearance of the undead banshees, many areas lost their hold, and the fragile bodies of the elves seemed unable to withstand such a powerful curse. The warning horn sounded, and the front-line archers immediately retreated. They never expected to block the attack of the undead on the front line.

In the Elf Forest, many tall wooden towers have been built, using local materials like willow, poplar, beech, and other tall tree branches. When Mage Lynch asked the elves to put down their flutes, which played beautiful poems, and pick up axes, not a single elf did not oppose this action.

"This is not only cutting down our trees, but it is cutting down our lives!" the elves said. "This is simply a crime."

The word crime in the Elf Language holds a terrifying meaning, almost representing "an unforgivable error." Mage Lynch had long anticipated this, and he calmly said to the elves, who were on the edge of anger:

"We only need some sturdy branches, not complete felling of those trees." He said, "Regarding this point, I hold the same view as you."

The elves were finally persuaded (the trust and support of the Elf Queen for Lynch played a significant role). After all, the threat of the undead still lingered, and compared to the land being forever polluted by that black death force, the temporary damage to trees that can recover in a few years was an acceptable loss. However, the construction progress of these towers was very slow, with almost no elves volunteering for this "work."

It wasn’t until the Great Druid spoke that the work accelerated: "Since these trees have already contributed their bodies for our Holy Land, should we just watch the branches that have shielded the wind and rain in the past, now, and future rot on the ground? Are you going to betray the intentions of these trees, even denying them the heart to form protective towers for us?"

Thus, in the Elf Forest, these towers stood like sturdy nails, firmly embedded in the path of the advancing undead army. Upon hearing the horn, the elf archers immediately headed to the nearest tower to their defense position. There, they would receive the best care.

Because, priests of the Elf Clan and priests of the Moon Goddess were spread throughout these "small fortresses." They were gathering strength, with healing potions already prepared, along with plenty of holy water and divine scrolls specifically for dealing with the undead.

As long as the Elf God hasn’t abandoned his followers, everything was in Lynch’s consideration — at least within the pre-out-of-control plan. So when the undead rushed toward these towers, hymns would resonate over the Elf Forest.

The priests chanted loudly, praising the name of the Moon Goddess who represents life and kindness. At that moment, they radiated a silver glow, like cascading mercury pouring onto the land beneath the towers, mist-like in this wooded area. The bodies of the undead seemed to be splashed with highly corrosive acidic liquid, burning through them before they could react.

"This is how battles should be fought!" the elf archers regained their morale, drawing their arrows and relentlessly shooting the troubled undead monsters, their bodies plunging into the waters of the Erutalon River.

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