Lilanddra’s face was pale, her lower lip tightly bitten, tears glistening in her eyes, yet she stubbornly refused to let them fall.

She changed into a dark hunting outfit for ease of movement, covered by a plain gray cloak, having removed her usual identity-signifying hairpins and exquisite accessories.

Two female high elves with the most solemn auras, clearly the strongest among her personal guards.

Duke remembered they were Lilanddra’s close bodyguards, standing to her left and right, their expressions deadly serious.

"Mother..." Lilanddra’s voice trembled slightly.

"Lilan, listen to me." The Level 3 Moonlight Priestess interrupted her, speaking quickly and clearly, "The castle cannot hold, the invaders’ objectives are clear, ruthless, and the clan leader Issera is trapped. The outer defenses have collapsed, you must leave immediately."

"No! I want to stay with Mother, to share the clan’s fate!" Lilanddra, agitated, tried to leave to return to the surface, but was gently held back by her bodyguard.

"Share the fate?" The clan leader’s voice suddenly rose, with a coldness that cut through hesitation, "That means the complete extinction of the Moonmark clan’s bloodline and legacy! You are the clan leader’s daughter, the chosen seed for the next Guardian by the Eye of Moonmark! Your survival is more important than a meaningless sacrifice! Remember this hatred, remember today’s defeat, live on, become stronger, and then... return!"

She pressed a small pouch woven from Mithril and Moonlight Silk into Lilanddra’s hand, containing what seemed to be a few faintly glowing items. "Inside are parts of the clan’s core legacy texts and the energy imprint of the Eye of Moonmark, protect it."

She then turned to Instructor Moran and the eight personal guards led by Duke, her gaze swept over each one like lightning, especially Duke, who deliberately displayed loyalty and steadfastness.

"Moran, you are experienced, familiar with the secret passage. These eight warriors have shown the most resilience, alertness, and relatively... clean backgrounds in recent selections, making them less traceable. Now, in the name of the Moonmark Clan leader, I order you: protect Lilanddra, and evacuate through the Shadow Song Path! Ensure her safety at all costs!"

"Shadow Song Path..." Instructor Moran repeated quietly, his expression more solemn. That was an ancient underground passage network known only to successive clan leaders and very few confidants, leading to the depths of the Shadow Song Valley and possibly other relatively safe areas, said to be filled with natural obstacles and ancient magical traps, and possibly connected to unknown hidden places.

"High Priestess, what about you..." One of the personal guards couldn’t help but ask.

"I will stay behind, commanding the remaining forces, to buy you as much time as possible for your withdrawal and attempt... to rescue Clan Leader Issera." The High Priestess’s voice regained its calm, yet carried a resolve as if facing death. "This is both an order and a request. The future of the Moonmark Clan is entrusted to you."

Lilanddra’s tears finally fell, but she bit her lips tightly, not crying out loud, only nodding vigorously, clutching the Mithril pouch tightly in her palm.

Instructor Moran took a deep breath, kneeling on one knee, "I swear to complete the mission!"

Duke and the other seven personal guards all knelt on one knee, bowing their heads to receive the order, "Swear to protect the young lady!"

Duke’s voice blended in seamlessly, yet he was swiftly calculating in his heart, that following Lilanddra to evacuate through the secret passage might be more advantageous than staying in the soon-to-fall castle.

Not only could he get closer to this key figure, acquiring potential intelligence, but also use the chaos of the evacuation process to create more opportunities for his subsequent actions.

Of course, the dangers and unknowns that the secret passage might hold also needed caution.

"Time is short." The High Priestess gave Lilanddra one last deep look, as if engraving her image into her soul, then resolutely turned away, walking toward the stairs leading upward, her straight back carrying a touch of solemn loneliness. "Activate the passage. May Suren and Eilistraee guide your way, may the Light of Moonmark never extinguish."

Instructor Moran did not hesitate any longer, striding to the seemingly seamless wall on one side of the Sinking Moon Hall, chanting an ancient, awkward Elven incantation while pressing a Moonstone Seal given by the High Priestess into an inconspicuous depression on the wall.

The wall silently slid open, revealing a deep tunnel extending downward, filled with damp cold air and the faint glow of luminescent moss, a whiff of ancient scent mixed with the earthy smell unique to the underground wafting out.

"Go!" Moran whispered, stepping first into the opening, with the two high-level bodyguards protecting Lilanddra closely following.

Duke and the other personal guards exchanged a glance, clenched the weapons in their hands, and took one last look at the direction of the Moonwatch Castle upper levels behind them, where the sounds of explosions and battle cries grew even clearer and more intense.

Then, he resolutely turned, following at the tail of the team, stepping into this unknown shadow song path that bore the last hope of the Moonmark Clan.

Behind them, the wall slowly closed, sealing off the soft light of the Sinking Moon Hall from the hellish flames of war outside.

...

On the Moonwatch Platform, the twisted spatial wrinkle, after persisting for a moment, finally began to show unstable fluctuations.

Inside, Clan Leader Issera’s silver hair fluttered, and the moonlight around her surged like an ocean. The ancient Moonmark Scepter in her hand burst forth with dazzling silver rays that pierced through the void, continuously striking the confines of her prison.

The beacon, after all, was a single-use trigger, and its energy could not last long while imprisoning a Level 3 Life with Moon Well support.

Just as the wrinkle trembled violently, on the verge of bursting, a shadow as dark as the deepest night quietly appeared at the edge of the Moonwatch Platform, none other than the Level 3 High Priestess.

She did not attack the prison directly but instead formed an extremely intricate ancient seal with her hands, chanting an obscure spell that penetrated the essence of space.

"By the covenant of a thousand years of moonlight, summon the foundation of the Shadow Song Valley... space, smooth out!"

A peculiar, gentle yet overwhelmingly irresistible ancient power emanated from her, resonating with the earth beneath her feet, the twin moons above, and even the invisible laws of this realm.

The spatial wrinkle that troubled Issera, under this power, began to dissipate and smooth out like silk being ironed flat.

"Teacher!" Issera emerged from her confines, her face pale, her breath somewhat disordered, but her eyes blazing with battle spirit.

She instantly reconnected with the Moon Well, vast energy once again flooding into her body, the scepter radiating brilliant light.

The High Priestess nodded slightly, her gaze turning solemnly towards the exterior of the castle, where a terrifying presence that made her soul tremble was approaching at an incredible speed!

"Be careful, there’s... an extraordinary figure coming."

As if to confirm her words, the sky above the Moonmark Clan suddenly tore open with an invisible force.

It was not a physical tear, but a retreat of the rules.

The silver and purple glow of the twin moons dimmed at this moment, as if not daring to vie for brilliance with the imminent arrival.

The rolling smoke, chaotic energy flows, and even the noisy sounds of battlefield slaughter were instantly replaced by an extreme heaviness of silence.

A figure seemed to step out from the depths of the void.

He was not wearing grand and exaggerated armor, just an ordinary imperial officer’s uniform, deep gray, well-fitted and neat.

His height was no more than two meters, appearing ordinary compared to some towering war golems.

His face was rugged, with lines as if carved by a knife, looking like a seasoned middle-aged man.

But when he fully appeared above the Moonwatch Platform, the entire battlefield, whether the advancing imperial army or the desperately resisting night elves, involuntarily stopped their actions, gazing towards the sky in terror.

Because that was not a man.

That was a walking, cold sun among men.

An overwhelming, majestic, transcendent, and immortal divine pressure, like a tangible tsunami, surged from him as its center.