Seeing his subordinates still clicking their tongues in amazement, the middle-aged knight shook his head, leapt onto his horse, waved his hand sharply, and scolded lightly, “Let’s go, stop embarrassing yourselves here. As long as everyone works hard, reaching the level of a Defender of the Faith isn’t impossible!”

The thundering thunderhorses kicked up a cloud of dust, and in an instant, more than a dozen riders vanished into the distance, leaving behind only two knights to handle the aftermath. They meticulously turned over the surrounding soil, silently burying the troublesome corpse that had cost them nearly half a month of effort.

When the last two knights finally disappeared over the distant horizon, everything seemed to quiet down. The dark oak forest, the desolate hills—even the scorching sunlight took on a sinister cast. Everything appeared so lonely and bleak, as if not a trace of life could be felt.

Time passed slowly. At last, some kind of sound emerged from deep within the woods. Through the dim gaps between the trees, one could vaguely see something stirring beneath a pile of rotting branches and leaves at the base of a large tree. With a rustling sound, as the branches and leaves fell away, a humanoid figure shakily stood up and stumbled toward the edge of the forest.

As the figure drew closer to the forest’s edge, its true appearance was finally revealed. This was not some humanoid monster, but indeed a person—a young man with a passable face. However, the blood seeping from the corners of his eyes, mouth, and nostrils marred his otherwise handsome features. His luxurious yet tattered robe was covered in dead branches, leaves, and dirt, showing just how dire his situation was.

Spitting out a mouthful of thick phlegm streaked with blood, Youngster finally reached the spot outside the woods where the knights had just lingered. He stretched lazily, then spat viciously in the direction the knights had gone, utterly lacking in decorum: “Damn it, just a few thunderhorse knights—what’s so arrogant about that? I swear by any god except the God of Light, one day, I’ll pay back this humiliation a hundredfold!”

After taking a few deep breaths, Young Man seemed to sense something. He brushed the leaves and dirt from his head, shook out his ragged robe, then lowered his head to examine the freshly filled pit before him. Just moments ago, he had witnessed the paladins of the Holy Light Church hunting down the thief whose corpse now lay beneath the earth, a scene that had scared him out of his wits. He had hurriedly slipped deeper into the woods, and fortunately, he’d been cautious enough to attach his life force to his pet. He hadn’t expected the opponent’s sonic anti-magic spell to be so powerful—it had nearly shattered him, even hidden deep in the soil. If he hadn’t cleverly used earth magic to absorb the lingering shockwaves, he might have been trapped in this damned dirt forever.

Even so, the internal injuries he’d suffered wouldn’t heal in just a day or two, and who knew how much money it would take to treat them. At this thought, Young Man couldn’t help but curse himself for being as stupid as a pig—why had he attached his life force to his own undead pet, only to take a direct hit from that holy sonic anti-magic? From the unknown Defender of the Faith of the Church of Light, to his own undead pet, to the corpse lying underground, Young Man cursed them all before finally falling silent. His agitation caused the blood in his nostrils to drip down the corners of his mouth, staining his already tattered robe with bright red spots.

As if remembering something, Young Man carefully took out a pouch from his chest. The pouch looked old and was made of some unknown material, dark grayish-blue in color, smeared with indistinct runes, and tied at the mouth with a coarse, gaudy cord, making it look rather tacky.

He gave it a gentle shake, chanting softly under his breath. The pouch suddenly doubled in size, and its mouth opened of its own accord, as if something was about to pour out. However, to Young Man’s surprise, the pouch only trembled strangely, and nothing came out. Young Man’s face turned ashen, and he frantically chanted spell after spell, but the pouch remained unresponsive.

A look of despair appeared on Young Man’s face. He had no choice but to reach into the pouch and grope around. He pulled out a shattered miniature skeleton, now broken into more than a dozen pieces. Seeing his beloved pet smashed to pieces by that anti-magic sonic blast, Young Man swayed on his feet, nearly fainting.

This was a treasure he had painstakingly excavated from an ancient battlefield. Though it was old, it had once been a high-level warrior, and its body had been reinforced by his magic, making it a formidable fighter in his eyes. Once unleashed in battle, it could charge and fight for him. But now… At this thought, Young Man couldn’t help but curse that unknown Defender of the Faith from the Church of Light again. He had destroyed Young Man’s most important pet and companion, leaving him back at square one. Even his most prized warrior had been smashed to pieces, and as for the other two, weaker skeleton warriors in the pouch, they were probably reduced to dust.