As if suddenly perceiving something, the figure shrouded in a seamless cloak, exposing only a pair of bright eyes, abruptly turned their gaze toward the forest not far behind the group of knights.
This was a gloomy oak forest, where occasionally some unnamed vines could be vaguely seen clinging to the tall trunks of the oaks, brandishing like claws and giving off a strange aura. Even under such brilliant sunshine, the darkness and eeriness of this forest could still be felt.
The sensitive middle-aged knight also sensed the corrupt stench emanating from the depths of the forest. It was the unique smell of undead creatures. For them, the faithful of the Church of Light, this scent was the most detestable and loathed.
The cloaked figure stealthily extended their left hand, which had been hidden under their clothes. It was a wrist that seemed too slender, with the thumb tightly pressing against the forefinger and middle finger, shining radiantly like a finely carved crystal stone artwork in the sunlight.
A white halo the size of a pigeon's egg began to form at the fingertips, and in an instant, a light ball was formed. The tightly held forefinger and middle finger abruptly snapped forward, and the light ball shot into the dark forest like an arrow released from a bow.
With a dull "pop," a muffled sound came from deep within the forest, followed by a series of "crackling" noises as skeletons shattered. Finally, all was silent as death.
The middle-aged knight looked on in amazement at the figure wrapped up tightly, his heart unable to articulate the shock he felt.
This Protector of the Sanctuary's Holy Sound Breaking Magic had reached such a level that they didn't even need to chant a spell to create solid sound wave light balls. It appeared that the Protector of the Faith's cultivation had reached the Earth Furnace Stage. He really needed to work harder; otherwise, he would be increasingly left behind in the mastery of holy magic.
Having easily disposed of the annoying undead creatures without any superflous movements, the figure moved silently, like a voiceless ghost, and suddenly disappeared from everyone's sight, instantly reaching a spot thirty feet away.
Even before they could discern his moving figure, the other had already faded into the distance, leaving only the fluttering remnants of his trailing robe in their field of vision.
The middle-aged knight looked enviously at the figure who had flown off into the air, knowing such a feat in the Land Soaring Technique required not only a high level in wind magic but also depended on one's innate talent. Not everyone could reach this height. Lord Gaya, who was hardly seen as clearly as a dragon, really made any of his peers at the same level feel ashamed.
The middle-aged knight believed his strength was not inferior to the Protector of the Faith, but he also acknowledged that in holy magic cultivation, he was quite behind those who devoted themselves entirely to the practice. After all, he had many more important things to do, and strength was not measured solely by the level of holy magic mastery.
Seeing his subordinates still standing there with their mouths agape, the middle-aged knight shook his head, leaped onto his horse, and with a brisk hand wave, he scolded, "Let's go, stop making a spectacle of yourselves. With effort, reaching the level of a Protector of the Faith is not impossible!"
The roaring Thunderhorse stirred up a trail of dust, and in an instant, more than ten knights had disappeared into the distance. Only two knights remained to deal with the aftermath, meticulously turning over the soil and silently burying into the earth what had caused them nearly half a month's effort.
When the last two knights finally vanished on the horizon, everything seemed to quiet down. The dim oak forest, the desolate hills, even the scorching sunshine seemed somewhat eerie. All appeared so desolate and hauntingly beautiful, as though not a trace of life existed.
Time slowly passed, until finally, a certain noise came from deep within the forest. Through the gaps in the dim woods, one could vaguely see something wriggling under a pile of rotten branches and leaves beneath a large tree.
With a "rustle," amidst falling branches and leaves, a human-shaped thing staggered to its feet and clumsily made its way toward the edge of the forest.
As it moved closer, the true nature of this humanoid thing finally revealed itself.
It was not a monster in human form but indeed a person, a young man with a tolerable appearance. However, the blood trickling from his eyes, mouth, and nostrils spoiled what was otherwise a handsome face. His once exquisite but now tattered robe was covered in twigs, dead leaves, and mud, indicating his dire straits.
Spitting out a mouthful of phlegm mixed with streaks of blood, the young man finally reached the spot where the knights had just lingered. He stretched in an inelegant manner and spitefully spat toward the distance, "Damn it, are they just a few Thunderhorse Knights to be so arrogant? I swear by every god but the God of Light that one day, I will repay this humiliation a hundredfold!"
After gasping for air, the young man seemed to sense something, brushing the leaves and mud off his head before shaking his tattered robe, and finally hung his head to inspect the freshly filled pit in front of him that the knights had just leveled.
He had just witnessed the Holy Church's Holy Knights hunting down a thief who now lay as a corpse beneath the soil at the edge of the forest, a sight that terrified him to the core and made him hastily flee into the depths of the trees.
He thought himself careful, having transferred his life force to his undead pet, but he hadn't expected the opponent's sonic spell to be so formidable; it almost shattered him hiding in the depths of the mud, convulsing him to his core.
If it weren't for his quick wits and the use of the Earth Dissolving Technique to dissipate the aftershocks with mud, he feared he'd be stuck in this damned mud forever, unable to rise again.
Even so, the damage to his internal organs wasn't something that could heal in a day or two; who knows how much money it would take to treat it?
Thinking of this, the young man couldn't help but curse himself for being as stupid as a pig. Why had he attached his life force to his undead pet, to needlessly suffer that Holy Sound Breaking Magic?
From the unknown Protector of the Sanctuary from the Church of Light to his undead pet, and then to the lying corpse, the young man swore enough before he stopped, blood dripping from his nose and corner of his mouth due to the excitement, staining his already net-like, rotten robe with specks of bright red.
As if remembering something, the young man carefully took out an ancient-looking, somewhat aged pouch from his bosom. The material of the pouch was dark cyan-grey, smudged with some unclear spells, and tied crudely with a coarse floral cord, looking incredibly tacky.
With a light shake and a quiet chant, the pouch suddenly inflated to double its size. The pouch's opening moved as if on its own, as if something was about to surge out, but to the young man's surprise, there was only a peculiar quiver, and nothing came out.
The young man's face went pale instantly, frantically reciting the spell repeatedly, but the pouch remained indifferent.
A look of despair washed over the young man's face, and he had no choice but to reach into the pouch and rummage wildly. He pulled out his most cherished pet, now a shattered miniature skeleton, which had completely broken into more than a dozen bone fragments.
Seeing his beloved pet shattered by that magic pulse wave, the young man swayed, nearly fainting.
This was the treasure he had painstakingly excavated from the ancient battlefield.
Although it was very old, it was still a high-level warrior, whose body he had solidified with his powerful magic. In his eyes, it had already possessed considerable combat power, enough to charge into battle for him once engaged.
But now, thinking of this, the young man couldn't help but curse the nameless Protector of the Sanctuary from the Church of Light. He had destroyed his most important pet and sidekick, returning him to square one. If this warrior he valued so highly was shattered, the other two weaker skeleton warriors in his pouch didn't stand a chance; they probably turned to dust.
Feeling as though his blood had been drained, the young man lost all his strength and collapsed to the ground, gazing blankly at the blazing sun in the sky, his body turning icy cold, as if unable to feel a bit of the sun's warmth. How was he supposed to proceed?
After painstakingly learning a few skills and finally achieving some results, could it all be shattered so carelessly by someone whose face he hadn't even seen? Was his ability and power really so fragile?
The young man felt as if his life was slowly withering away. How much money and effort would it take to find a few such suitable products again?
Suddenly, as if struck by a revelation, the young man scrambled up from the ground. Like a fly drawn to rotting meat, he agilely lunged towards the pit beside him. Wasn't this a ready-made test subject? Although the Thunderhorse Knights said the individual seemed to be a thief, a thief who could provoke such a pursuit from the knights couldn't be a simpleton, right? With this thought, his spirits soared; he disregarded the injuries he had sustained, and immediately picked up a branch to frantically start digging.
Perhaps the knights were too lazy, or perhaps he was spurred by boundless enthusiasm, but in just a short time, the young man unearthed the casually covered mulch atop the body. The corpse lying tranquilly in the pit appeared so peaceful; its face, once fair, had turned a peculiar shade of gold. Even the dirt scattered across his face couldn't obscure the strange golden color.