Chapter 1060 The Blood Pool Has Dried Up

There is no need for much communication between mortal enemies. When the witch Hellebron, who betrayed Ulthuan, appeared, the hatred of all the Asur for her was second only to Malekith and Morathi.

Harganthi's crimes could be listed in a thick monograph, and 80% of them could be attributed to the witch.

Hellebron did not pay much attention to the young Draknir, who was not well-known, and thought that at best he was just a young version of Imrik.

Without a dragon, a star lance, or a Caledor armor, how could she fight a 6,000-year-old guy?

But soon, Hellebron found that she was wrong.

Her nimble body dodged Draknir's heavy and sharp sword attack, but when the broken double blades hit the shield, a breath like a dragon's roar spurted out from the decorative pattern in the center of the shield, almost burning Hellebron's proud purple-red hair to ashes.

"Shield with Fiery Dragon Pattern?!"

She recognized this shield. Even after countless years, she still remembered the heroic figure of the Dragon Tamer's Son when he picked up the artifact shield to resist the Chaos Army.

But didn't that guy die inexplicably, and even his body was not found?

The surprise in her heart slowed down the witch's attack, allowing Draknir to seize the opportunity. Most of his martial arts were learned from Belannaar. The swordsmanship of the Supreme Archmage was so exquisite that he almost mastered all the mainstream swordsmanship in Ulthuan.

And Masno, Davion and others spared no effort to teach the prince by words and deeds, and passed on their valuable experience over the years. Even though he had experienced few life-and-death battles, his martial arts were by no means ordinary under the sparring of a group of big guys.

What's more... he is not just a warrior.

Hellebron, in a jumping posture, dodged the long sword that was slashing towards her neck by a hair's breadth. The witch was so fast in the air that she seemed to ignore gravity. She stretched her hand to her waist, and the deadly black lotus poison was the best medicine to defeat the enemy.

Under the witch's exquisite control, the black lotus, as black as ink, covered Draknir in a covering state. Just one drop that penetrated into the skin was enough to affect Prince Caledor.

But Draknir only raised his left hand shield and said coldly to Hellebron who seemed to be flying in the air.

"The sky is definitely not a realm that Druzy can reach. You dirty bugs should lie on the ground and live with the mud!"

Even after casting a teleportation spell at the military level, the prince whose brain's microcosm is comparable to that of the Slann, still did not have disordered magic wind in his body.

He was an absolute gifted monster. Even his father, Imrick, praised him so much when he was communicating with his wife behind his back.

With Draknir as the center, the air within a radius of hundreds of meters seemed to become extremely heavy, and the crossbows and black darts used for sneak attacks and assassinations were moving at a snail's pace visible to the naked eye.

When the mental power reaches an irresistible level, everything will become completely different from the impression, and time and space will submit to the will of the caster and reach the power of the mortal gods.

Draknir cannot make time and space submit with personal power in the mortal world like Lord Kroka, but he can use gravity magic to slow down Druzy's speed, which can be easily done with some effort.

No matter how experienced Helleben is, she never expected that Draknir, who just behaved like a pure warrior, could seamlessly transform into a mage in a breath, and even ignore the protective effect of the black fire amulet she carried!

In panic, under the old face covered by the mask, Helleben expressed her evaluation of Prince Caledor.

"You are a monster!"

The long sword given by the ancestors was pointed at Hellebron by Draknir. After years of improvement, the weapon that symbolizes the glory of the family has fully adapted to his fighting style.

The good magic conductivity is enough to cover up the reality of the lack of enchantment effect.

Like the energy of pure moonlight gathered from the bottom of the hilt, Draknir chose to give Hellebron a decent death, completely erasing the body and soul of the witch from the mortal world.

Prince Caledor's face was still cold, like all the descendants of the Caledor family in Hellebron's impression. Draknir sentenced the bride of Cain to death in an unquestionable tone.

"If it is to kill Druzy, I am willing to become a monster!"

The gushing of soul torrents hit Hellebron's body. The improved magic formed by the gathering of pure eight winds was not inferior to the original spell.

There was no movement, not even the screams and wails that the enemy of Caledor should have before his death. As the soul torrent slowly disappeared, the only items that proved that Hellebron had been an enemy of Draknir were the broken double swords and the black fire amulet that fell to the ground.

"Hellebron... is dead?"

Tularis was surprised and ignored the spear stabbed by Neralis. After feeling the severe pain in his chest, he howled like crazy.

The death of the mistress made the Whip of Terror feel such a strong sense of anger for the first time. The God of Bloody Hand was so kind to this believer that he did not forget to bless him even when he was fighting with Pakal.

Or maybe it was the first time that the incarnation of Cain felt nervous. The development of things was far beyond expectations. After Asur, the Chosen One of Sotek, volunteered to be a sacrifice and summoned Pakal, the challenger who was supposed to go to the decisive battle site immediately did not leave.

Now there is another prince of Caledor whose background is unknown...

What happened to you Caledor in these years? You have such strength but were defeated in the battle of Finuval Plains?

No matter how everyone on the field reacted, Hellebron was already dead, and Shadow Blade was forced to take over Tularis's burden, emerging from the shadows to fight against the radical of the Twilight Twins, Neralis.

The heavy slasher, originally a weapon for execution, was like a gust of wind when wielded by Tularis. His hoarse voice was full of madness, and he cursed Draknir, who killed Hellebron.

"Prince of Caledor, fight in the way of a warrior. You cowards, you used to rely on dragons, and now you rely on magic?"

Draknir, who calmly blocked the slasher attack with a fiery dragon pattern shield, asked back without emotion.

"If Caledor relies on dragons and magic, what about Druz? Rely on betrayal and conspiracy, or rely on your weak bloody hand god?"

"Blasphemy, I will..."

Tularis's rebuttal was hit hard by Draknir. Under the physical strength comparable to that of a dragon, the Whip of Terror only felt that his arm seemed to have lost consciousness.

Draknir's eyes also began to show madness. For this war, he had sacrificed a lot of things, and those precious people who passed away would never come back.

Just like the damned Hellebron, eternity became part of the elves' division.

"Today, I will end Cain's madness, and Caledor will replace the authority of the gods and lead the elves back to the greatness of the dawn of creation!"