494: Lord Magic Eye

Elf World, Platinum City.

Suneika led a squad of Elven soldiers onto the dilapidated city walls.

On the blood-stained ground outside the city walls, 1,000 Tiance Imperial Guards stood in formation.

Their halberds were like a forest, shimmering with golden light.

The Elves looked down at these otherworldly warriors, feeling their legs tremble slightly.

Even Suneika, who had been conferred the title of General Zuo, unconsciously swallowed.

Below the city walls, the Imperial Guards stood silently, like statues of gods, exuding an invisible pressure.

The pressure was so heavy it felt as if it would collapse the crumbling city walls.

Suneika couldn't help but wonder if she had the ability to command such a group of demon gods.

Just as Suneika was doubting herself, the sound of armor rubbing together echoed.

The 1,000 Tiance Imperial Guards knelt in unison, like a golden wave.

Immediately after, they shouted in unison: "Tiance Imperial Guards, greetings to General Zuo, the Barbarian Suppressor."

The pressure surged like a tide, causing the Elves to retreat in alarm.

"Is this...is this the power of otherworldly humans? It's too terrifying..."

"Even an attack by 100,000 Orcs didn't have this kind of oppressive feeling!"

"Thankfully, they are allies..."

"It's hard to imagine that humans from another world could be this strong!"

The Elven warriors looked at each other, their faces pale.

Suneika, at the very front, was also deeply shaken, muttering, "No, this is not the power of humans, but the power of the Divine Emperor."

With that, she turned to the Elves and said,

"Notify Elven Royal City that we are to advance towards the Night Elves' territory; Platinum City will do the same."

"This is a great migration of 8 million people, concerning the continuation of the High Elves. Not a single commoner can be left behind!"

"Yes!" The Elves responded in unison... Just as the High Elves began their great migration, a mournful horn sounded above an Orc fortress.

This fortress was built within an Elven city.

The Orcs had erected crude-style buildings amidst the city ruins.

In front of each building stood sharp wooden stakes, impaling Elven heads.

The entire fortress was filled with a strong smell of blood, showcasing violent barbarism.

Just as the High Elves embarked on their grand migration, the mournful sound of a horn slowly echoed like a lament above a prominent Orc fortress.

This chilling fortress, like an evil mark, stood silently on the land.

It was the ruins of an Elven city.

From the collapsed walls and broken bricks, it was not difficult to see that this had once been a beautiful and prosperous city.

Now, however, it had been forcibly occupied by invaders, who had wantonly erected crude and menacing buildings.

Rough stones were haphazardly piled, surrounded by sharp wooden stakes, like the fangs of Orcs.

On these stakes, Elven heads, still bearing expressions of terror, were impaled, and blood slowly trickled down the stakes, as if weeping for this defiled land.

Throughout the entire fortress, a strong, almost suffocating smell of blood permeated, a scent mixed with fear, despair, and death, spreading wantonly through the air, staining every corner crimson.

"They lost the War."

Inside the fortress tent, an Orc Shaman, wearing an animal skull, stood on the fortress's watchtower, watching the defeated Orc army retreating in the distance.

If, that could even be called an army.

The Orcs' once powerful, drum-like footsteps now felt like cotton filled with lead, each step soft and heavy, difficult to lift.

The once majestic, fluttering banners were now tattered, with only a few remnants helplessly swaying in the wind.

All the Orcs were dejected, their wild aura long gone, instead resembling a pack of stray dogs.

"Too shameful!"

"Even if Orcs suffer defeat, they should not look so dejected!"

Beside the Orc Shaman, a tall and fierce Orc General said with displeasure, shouting at the defeated army outside the fortress: "You little brats! You don't look like Orcs, you look more like Goblins!!!"

With that, he picked up an Orc scout's javelin and hurled it at a retreating Orc.

The javelin spun through the air, carrying a terrifying whirlwind, and violently struck the Orc warrior.

The poor Orc warrior didn't even understand what was happening before he was sent flying a long distance with the javelin, then was firmly pinned to the ground.

"All of you, raise your heads! Otherwise, you'll end up like him! I will kill each and every one of you outside the fortress!"

The Orc General roared, his eyes filled with killing intent.

However, the Orcs outside the fortress remained listless, their eyes hollow, as if their Souls had been scared out of them.

The Orc General immediately picked up a second javelin, intending to kill another Orc as punishment, but was stopped by the Orc Shaman beside him.

The Orc Shaman advised, "Don't make it difficult for them; they must have experienced something truly despairing."

"Prophet, what exactly did they encounter? Did you see it through the crystal ball?" the Orc General asked.

The Orcs had been invading the Elf World for so long, yet they had never suffered such a great defeat.

One centurion was killed, ten chiliarchs were killed, and countless centurions were killed.

Out of ten thousand Orcs, less than 1,000 returned.

Even more exaggerated was that... this time, ten Behemoths were brought out, and not a single one returned.

These War machines had the stats of a Peak Emperor!

The Orc General truly couldn't imagine what power could make the Orcs collapse into such a state.

"I saw nothing."

The Prophet shook his head and said, "When I overlooked the battlefield with the crystal ball, I encountered a strong interference."

"Strong interference?" the Orc General asked, puzzled.

The Prophet nodded: "When the crystal ball was interfered with, I felt a prickling sensation on my back, as if..."

At this point, the Prophet paused, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes hidden beneath the skull.

After composing himself, he continued, "As if a sword was hanging over my head."

"Even you were suppressed..."

"Lord Demon Eye said that the Elves were already at the end of their rope, so how did they suddenly perk up again?"

"Could it be... their gods intervened?"

The Orc General asked cautiously.

The Prophet was silent for a moment, then shook his head, denying: "It's not the aura of the Goddess of Nature, and if the Goddess of Nature were to intervene, Lord Demon Eye would also intervene."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know either; I need to ask Lord Demon Eye."

As the Prophet spoke, he gently tapped the ground with his staff, instantly returning to his quiet tent.

And when he slowly raised his head again, his gaze fell precisely on the portrait hanging in the very center of the tent.

If a Divine Emperor were fortunate enough to see that portrait, he would likely be too stunned to speak.

Within the portrait was the image of a human man.

He held a Three-Pointed Double-Edged Blade, his eyes slightly closed, as if he were in a deep meditation.

And on his broad forehead, an exceptionally striking vertical eye was embedded.

That vertical eye emitted a black-purple light, filled with evil Qi, as if looking into it would cause one's Soul to fall... [Retired Emperors: Recently, some Imperial Fathers felt it was short, and the Imperial Son felt that if it was short, then the plot of each chapter was slow. The Imperial Son will speed up, and additionally, the identity of the Omniscient Eye will be revealed.]