Cairn Ophelia galloped, the wind of the moor howling in her ears. Not far behind him was the sound of hooves followed by the cavalry, but he did not look back. The smell of blood along the way, the scorched earth, made his brow even more furrowed. He knew that he was about to arrive at the place that Reno had used for "justice."
Elena's crime, the deprivation of the Angels, Reno's high-profile sentencing... It was all so perfect, so perfect, it seemed like an elaborate play. The truth, however, Kane believes, is never that simple. He had to see for himself what lay behind Renault's so-called "evidence."
At the far end of the moor, the remains of the "trial" left by Reno looked particularly desolate under the gloomy light of the sky. On the scorched earth, the broken stone columns and the diffuse black smoke seem to record the cruel end of that game. Kane rolled off his horse, raised his hand to signal the guards around him, and walked slowly toward the blackened center.There was a pungent smell of sulfur in the air, and Kane's eyes grew heavy. He crouched down and touched the ground with his fingers. The cold soil felt eerily hot. He glanced around and saw a burning mark, a strange rune on the ground, like the remains of some ritual.
"The breath of the devil." Kane whispered, flicking his fingers over the edges of the runes. In the imperial doctrine, the power of the demon camp has always been the opposite of the angel camp, which is extremely aggressive. Kane was clear, however, that this scent should not be around Elena - her devotion to her faith is unmatched.
"Someone has planted the power of the demon camp here, but it can't be Elena." Kane's brow furrowed. He stood up and looked at the blood-stained earth not far away. In his mind came the scene of Elena's final framing - the sword that pierced not only her body, but all her glory.
The captain of the guard came forward and whispered, "What do you think, Your Highness? Do you need to report back to Wang Cheng?"
Kane glanced coldly at him, with an unmistakable firmness in his voice: "Reply? Tell Renaud how well he did it? No need. All he needed was a perfect facade. I needed the truth." He paused and added in a low voice, "There are more people involved in this framing." The power of the devil does not appear here for no reason."
Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Elena walks alone on the borders of the Empire. The road at the foot is full of sand and thorns, the sky is gray, like the angel god's eyes can no longer touch the death. She wore a tattered cloak and clutched a rusty sword, both for protection and to remind herself that she was no longer the glorious general who was protected by the light.Raynor's sword pierced her chest but failed to end her life. When she woke up, she found herself in this wilderness of exiles, the words "abandoned son Camp" on the panel like an irony of fate. Despite her anger and pain, Elena knew there was no point in despairing alone. She needs strength, she needs Allies, and the answer may lie in those age-old legends - stories about abandoning her side.
Abandoning the sub-camp, a taboo subject in the Empire. As a child, she had heard the rumors. Souls abandoned by the angelic gods gather in an unknown land, where they establish their own order, independent of the laws of light and darkness. They were traitors and freemen. No one knows exactly where this land is, or if the existence of the Renzi camp is real. But at this point, Elena has no choice.
She has to find them.
"Abandoned son..." Elena whispered the name, as if calling for some distant hope. Her feet kept moving forward, even when the road ahead was difficult. She walked through abandoned villages and saw border towns destroyed by war, and along the way, desolation and desolation became her companions.
In a dilapidated camp, Elena hears more clues about the abandoned camp from an old businessman. The wrinkled old man mentioned an area further west known as the "Valley of the Lost," where many exiles disappeared. No one knows what's in that valley, but legend has it that all the exiled souls found a home there.
"Lost Valley... Is my only hope." Elena whispered to herself, and a faint light lit up inside her. She lifted her head, her eyes fixed, and began her journey again.
As night fell and the wind chilled to the bone, Elena lit a small bonfire and rested against a dead tree. The firelight shone on her face, which was still a little tired, but a little more determined. Her hand gently caressed the scar on her chest, the fatal wound Renaud had left her, the mark of her rebirth."Do you think you can kill me, Reno..." Elena whispered, with a sneer on her lips, "My life belongs to me now, and your lies will be exposed one day."
In the distance, the wind seemed to hear a faint whisper, like a response, like a mockery. Elena closed her eyes, clutching her dagger. She didn't know the dangers ahead, but she knew she would never be pushed around again.