Chapter 640
The battle at Jintha’Alor lasted for two hours.
As the curtain of night slowly fell upon the land, the voices and sounds of battles started to fade from the woods, first growing soft before turning into a deathly silence.
The adepts had employed the appropriate strategies and came prepared. Thus, it took no more than an hour for the elves to go from stubborn resistance to complete defeat. The remaining one hour had purely been for dealing with the tougher Second Grade creatures.
Despite being the clan leader of the Crimson Clan and the commander-in-chief of this operation, Greem had also personally participated in the battle and gotten a full taste of the pleasure of beating down upon powerhouses of the same grade.
The sinister and dangerous environment of the World of Adepts raised a bunch of fearsome adepts who were learned in the ways of murder. These people that came from another world had almost no apparent weaknesses to be exploited. In comparison, the forest elves living on the Faen Plane’s Garan Continent had weaknesses just as obvious as their strengths.
If this battle had only been an internal plane struggle, then they might still be able to use their understanding of the enemy and their home field to gain some advantage. However, when their opponents were elite adepts that came from another world, what little leverage they would usually have vanished instantly without a trace.
The weapons master had an agile body, expert weapons technique, pinpoint attacks, and astounding skill in combat. Sadly, his body was far too frail. His magical resistance was also not up to par. He couldn’t even establish himself within Greem’s stunningly powerful Ring of Fire, much less display his power.
The female deadshot faced the same problem.
Before this, the two elves had always been able to help each other escape Greem’s pursuit when he used his Fire Teleportation. However, now that two Flame Fiends were charging at them upon waves of fire, the frail female elven deadshot no longer had the opportunity or angle to escape.
Her clothes and armor ignited, and half of her long hair burned away. Greem threw a violent Magma Fireball close to the deadshot. The explosion shockwave alone knocked the girl unconscious.
The furious weapons master wanted to charge forth and save his companion, but the Flame Fiend of Terror saw an opportunity and brought him to the ground with a quick slash of its fire whip. The Flame Fiend then bound the elf.
The two Flame Fiends were mentally connected, allowing them to work together with no delays or mishaps. It was clean and neat.
Moreover, Greem’s soul aura had been left within the Terror Flame Fiend’s core, making it easier for him to control. Thus, when they stood side by side, anyone would have trouble determining which was Greem’s transformation and which was the golem based solely on appearance and aura.
When victory had been decided on the central battlefield, the battles at the edges of the fight gradually concluded.
The first to return victorious was naturally the Goblin Shredder that Tigule piloted.
The Goblin Shredder was in tatters at this point, covered all over with cracks, scratches, and dents of all sizes. The metal saw on one of its four arms had also been crushed flat. Even the alloy drill seemed somewhat bent. One of its four pairs of metal limbs had snapped. Electric sparks could be seen flashing where the arm was broken.
The Goblin Shredder might be in a terrible state, but its opponent, the Second Grade deadwood guard, had completely turned into a withered log. Its dry and cracked wooden body rested on the ground. A gaping hole had been drilled into its brow, and the thousand-year treeheart within it had been dug out. It was beating in the hand of the Goblin Shredder.
It was a thousand-year treeheart soaked with powerful nature energy. It was a valuable magical material that many casters sought.
According to past rules, the spoils obtained in the battles of adepts belonged to themselves. As such, Greem cast a glance and paid it no more heed. Yet, who knew that Tigule would wave his hand and toss the thousand-year treeheart toward him.
“Master, this magical machine warrior has many parts that still require improvement and optimization. I will be counting on master from now on!” Tigule’s sharp voice rang out from within the machine as if he was trying to get on Greem’s good side.
Greem smiled and didn’t say anything more.
He turned and tossed the treeheart to Clan Adept Deserra, who had just arrived by his side; he had Deserra properly store the item. Greem himself lifted his head and silently looked at the night sky that was about to turn dark.
The moon was about to come out……