✓ Operating log of the Tavern of the Dead

115

The entire teleportation array was buzzing, and it was a very wonderful scene, under the cloudy and gloomy sky, the sculpture of the god of light guarded the undead from the teleportation array and rushed to the battlefield.

From the very beginning, the Starry Ring has left a trail behind. The time of the dead is forever frozen in the time of death, the existence of the past, but there is no future. They keenly grasped this somewhat subtle contradiction, and made a small consequence.

The end of existence is nothingness, the end of life is death, and if they fail to completely stuff that nothingness back to the other side, then use the end against the end, and lock Him somewhere.

Nobody knows if it's going to work, and no one knows if it's going to work. The best witches, astrologers, prophets, and dream apostles come together to figure out the end.

It was a big gamble, there was no reward for victory, and there was no way back from defeat, but they didn't hesitate.

Most of the undead can exist in the world because they have obsessions, and their obsessions are unwilling.

Just as the sun and the moon alternate, life and death alternate, flowers bloom and then wither, glorious empires fall apart, the world flourishes and declines, and when its existence grows to a certain extent, nothingness will appear, devouring everything that exists. Of course, one day after that, a new existence will eventually awaken from the desolation.

However, even if it is born from the same soil, is the flower that blooms this year the same as last year?

People sing about all the spectacle they see, the legends of the heroes are immortalized, and the old ruins of the kingdom are visited by those who take the trouble to visit, but everything that disappears into nothingness leaves no trace, no one remembers, no one knows, no one knows.

- Unwilling.

The gods were not reconciled, so they drew the boundaries of the world.

The starry ring was unwilling, so it blocked the crack at the cost of falling.

The undead who have awakened from the past are not reconciled, so they have come here in broken time.

The outcome of this battle is not destined to be won.

But none of them wanted to lose.

Nothingness enveloped the sky and the earth, and He had eaten so much of existence, and every piece of nourishment had turned into a separate body, and their past had vanished, leaving only deep and shallow malice and resentment lingering. The undead go to war generously, regardless of the cost, with the sole purpose of leaving their opponents here.

There was no smoke, no blood, not even a sound.

There are weapons that break, soul fires that falter and extinguish, and bones that turn into powder, but who cares? They are ready, fearless, and without regret.

Aldro was such a delicate and naïve dragon, his left wing was broken to a broken bone, his tail was also broken in half, his ribs were full of cracks, he couldn't fly, but he didn't cry, he still clenched the shadow in his mouth, and pressed the thing firmly under him, and the dark shadow spread into his skull, wrestling with the violently shaking soul fire.

Olivia was shattered, one wound across her face, from the heart of her forehead to the corner of her mouth, deep into the bone, and another in her throat, which was close to severing her neck, which would have been fatal if she were still alive. But the gray elf was laughing, she clenched her stabbing sword and pinned her opponent to the wall: "I knew that today, I should have taken a few more swordsmanship classes before I died... But I'm dead anyway, so it's not too much of a loss.