Surviving The Fourth Calamity-Chapter 815 - 611: Finally Catching Up to the Undead Tribe on the Battlefield

Hill glanced again at the Undead Tribe marching urgently, and took out his Magic Book.

Their pace was already as fast as possible, but the ever-present Demon Trees waved tens of thousands of branches to block the path of the Undead Tribe.

Fortunately, the Black Rose and the Youth Journey of the Wenjian World were the families deployed this time. These trees, with trunks and leaves particularly sturdy after being demonized, were vulnerable and fragile under the tusks of the road-clearing Wild Boar Legion.

As for Wenjian’s side, since most animal companions are sea creatures, they had to rely on themselves, but they had the blessing of Lansendel.

This one truly protects his own, always providing meticulous care for those he acknowledges.

The priests of the Dawn Church, relying on the protection of their Main God, can traverse the Nai’se Mountains and the corrupted creature-infested desert to enter the Tower of the Dawn, which was not yet restored by Mis Zhunuo.

Not to mention these Undead Tribe who are considered high-level even on Toril; as long as they’re in a place filled with Darkness, their attacks will carry the Power of Light blessed by the Lord of Dawn.

The mages of Wenjian unwittingly cast fireballs with the blessing of Light.

But in truth, the thing that makes these Undead Tribe fearless is that no matter how thick or terrifying the surrounding mist is, they feel nothing at all. The Abyssal aura has no effect on the Undead Tribe, except for a slight impact on their vision.

The damage to the soul is useless to them.

"They’re setting it on fire..." Oberon pressed his face tightly against the Crystal Wall, forming a strange shape, "Are these... really Elves? They’re actually setting fire in the Supreme Forest!"

Hill gently turned his head away, not knowing how to answer Oberon’s question.

Do the Elves of Toril know that the fire with the blessing of Light can burn these Demon Trees? Of course, they know, but no Elf can do it.

That is where the souls of their ancestors reside, the psychological anchorage of all Elves on Toril.

Moreover, the sin of burning a Holy Forest is something no one dares to bear, even if most of the trees have turned into demon pawns, it is the same. After all, it is only temporary; as long as they are still alive, there is hope for recovery. According to the judgment of the World Will, that would be harm to nature.

And as long as the Hell’s Gate is closed, the chance of these trees returning to normal is indeed significant, it only requires the Druids to spend a few years.

Don’t assume that the deities did not intervene to save these trees, but those who destroy them may face curses related to nature from the All Gods.

Oberon looked back at Hill: "Even if you take action, don’t use power beyond that of a deity. It’s best to keep spell intensity below the Legendary Spell level."

Watching Hill’s puzzled face, Oberon gave a bitter smile and said, "Your world must be very stable, with Demons not stretching their hands as far as they have in Toril.

The Hell’s Gate here in the Supreme Forest has existed for so long yet has never been shut, not because the All Gods are incompetent but because it can’t be done.

The space here is very unstable, using power exceeding that of the deities will cause it to shatter, and it has already connected too deeply with the Abyss, making it very difficult to seal completely.

Demon Lords can easily tear space rifts and invade the entire continent from here.

To be honest, this isn’t the first or second time it’s happened, only stopped by the descent of the All Gods.

The Demons also realized later that even if they entered at a level beyond that of the deities, it’s still useless; the Toril Deities still have the power to kill them.

But as for the lower-level demons, the All Gods would not waste their divine power unless they happened to encounter them."

Oberon watched as more demons surged forth: "So over the past few centuries, the Abyss treats this place almost like a training ground before a Blood War. The sudden arrival of so many demons must mean that a Blood War with Hell is about to start again."

Some things are absolutely not what the deities are willing to tell their followers, and so Hill only understood today.

For the Toril Gods, who rely heavily on faith, there is no way to tell their followers that the reason the Hell’s Gate cannot be closed is not for lack of willingness, but because it can’t be done.

Hill’s longtime doubt was finally resolved: why did Coron watch as those demons rampaged in his most devout place of worship on Toril.

This fragmented space in the Supreme Forest... it’s perfectly normal for Rose to be favored by the Bottomless Abyss.

On thinking it over, it indeed related to the Spider Queen, as the Supreme Forest was nearly overturned when the Dark Elves first fled underground.

AO never cared about these self-inflicted problems on Toril anyway, as Demons didn’t have the means to completely invade the world.

Instead, it is Coron, if he intervenes, the one from the Abyss might come over, the Double-headed Prince could appear, and then there would be no chance left for even a speck to remain of the Supreme Forest.

Oberon’s warning, of course Hill understood, so he sat on the sofa, worrying while looking at the Hell’s Gate over there.

He glanced at his magic book, scratched his head, and put it away. As long as he used this, the spell’s intensity would inevitably exceed level 35.

Oberon looked at the Hell’s Gate a few more times and then patted the crystal wall in front of him. It was something he never expected to be this strong; although the abyssal aura was clearly right in front of him, it didn’t seep in at all.

He stood in front of the crystal wall all along, intending to help Hill block the abyssal aura, since it was he who wanted to come here. Although he couldn’t use divine power, Oberon knew very well that his little strength would absolutely not cause any spatial disturbance.

Since it wasn’t needed, Oberon turned around and went to sit on the sofa farthest from Hill, dazing off.

He had talked too much today, was a bit tired, and didn’t want to communicate with anyone.

Hill looked up at Oberon, who began withdrawing into himself again, and shook his head helplessly. These fairies really didn’t fit in with most of the little fairies. They were beautiful, didn’t like to talk, yet were honest, reliable, and had a strong sense of responsibility. It’s odd how such a peculiar variant appeared among the little fairies, possibly because they interacted more with small animals like deer?

However, aside from being talkative, Vila was very much like her father in other traits.

If she had the kind of personality typical of the Little Fairy Queen, Hill definitely wouldn’t have accepted her.

Hill thought for a while, then put some of his divine artifacts into a pendant. He moved his body a bit, feeling somewhat unaccustomed to the sudden weakness that came over him.

Then he attempted to form a water ball at his fingertips, slowly reducing his mana.

Thankfully, his memories of practicing spell accuracy were still intact; otherwise, Hill really wouldn’t know how to control the spell’s intensity to be strong enough yet not surpass the divine power level.

No wonder no legendary mages or legendary archdruids ever joined battles. Before the Weave had issues, Toril’s spell use was mainly about high power without such precise controls.

Mages have learned to control every bit of their mana, thanks to Cyric’s earth-shattering sword. The Weave being disrupted, spells suddenly becoming something else were trivial; many mages had their heads explode outright.

Hill adeptly divided his mana into 100 portions, then withdrew them one by one.

The water ball he left behind was about level 27; Hill didn’t want to be too adventurous.

He slowly gauged the mana requirement of this water ball, feeling he needed to be prepared even if he might not have to take action.

Hill glanced at the Undead Tribe that had already stormed into the battlefield; the wild boars had all been put away.

For the Black Rose, a pig’s life was more important than their own.

Although some little pigs didn’t have a master yet, before growing up, they could live in the pet space of their biological mothers. William was truly considerate, thoroughly planning things out.

Probably from accumulated work experience, he fully appreciated the importance of pets: instead of having the rescued folks struggle whether to survive alone or die with pets seen as their own children, it was better to find a way to save both together from the start.

This approach wasn’t intended to instantly give the Undead Tribe an animal companion, but at least it gave them buffer time. If they’re truly reluctant, they had to do as ’Cunlü’ did; apart from rabbits, there were only four animal companion spots left for the couples, all bound with beloved little pigs, just like the Duchess.

’Perfect Bald’ also turned a blind eye to ’Cunlü’s’ insistence that their close friends must bind wild boars, because the Duchess’s descendants were indeed strong, and as the Black Rose were already known as the House of Pigs, no one cared what Flat-headed Brother was, so raising anything else made no sense.

Might as well choose strength directly, look at the Black Rose now, does anyone dare challenge them in gang wars? Non-combat victory is common.

’Cunlü’ had some sense; at least they left rabbit places!

Speaking of which, how many magical beasts would still be willing to sign a contract with their family? They’re all covered in pig or Flat-headed Brother scent; as soon as they arrive at Hill’s valley, other magical beasts avoid them.

They can only let go of the situation ever more freely.

When discussing this issue with Hill, ’Old Age Striking King’ finally commented, saying that Baldy was lying to himself—strength isn’t powerful, it’s the scent.

But this Loli herself bound to the Flat-headed Brother didn’t actually care; after all, if she and ’Cunlü’ fought, they were equally matched; muddy pond and stench attacks always led to mutual destruction.

Now, they directed their anger only in verbal disputes, having abandoned the previous practice of often fighting to determine who was right.

The Undead Tribe is very happy now; they love fighting these group wars. Fighting at Hill’s earlier was not satisfying at all. They aren’t afraid of those corpses, but fighting them felt dull, completely lacking the sensation of intense brawling.

Demons, those old friends, provide fun!

The Undead Tribe howled, decisively using various shock skills to charge into the battlefield, scaring the Guard Army of the temples who were defending.