"You don't want to die, right?"

Tyrion's voice sounded again:

"You see, you will become a palace priest in the future, and you will have a very bright future. And I remember that not saving someone at the risk of death is also a serious sin in the Holy Light doctrine. Don't you want to repent?"

Facing the death knight's questioning, the pale-faced Chaldean priest couldn't help but think of that cold and dark night again. The pain and fear that felt like the next day made him couldn't help but tighten the rosary beads in his hand.

After this incident happened, for the past year and a half, he would think of the innocent ranger who died tragically almost every night.

He hated his own powerlessness, hated his own cowardice and fear, and even more hated General Blackmoore, who killed the ranger wantonly and now wanted the Chaldean priest to endure such pain.

It was a hard life enduring the condemnation of the Holy Light and self-questioning, and the Chaldean priest had had enough of it all.

After a few seconds, he raised his head and looked at Tyrion in front of him with difficulty. After a moment, there was a touch of determination in his eyes:

"I am willing to take you there... but Mr. Rogge is buried in the church of Durnholde Castle. I buried the poor man with my own hands. But now Durnholde Castle has 2,000 garrison troops, and you can't enter.

.”

Tyrion raised his head and looked at the moonlight above the hilly forest. He had vaguely expected Rogge to escape death, but now it seemed that the poor ranger had not been able to return to his hometown in the end.

He has been waiting alone in this land far away from his hometown for 18 months. How lonely it must be.

"Death knights, have you heard this?"

Tyrion's voice rang in the forest: "Our brother died. He died in obscurity. He was buried in a castle garrisoned by 2,000 people. I am going to take him home. Which of you and

Shall I go with you?"

Serent and Luminas silently took out the weapons from their waists. Grokush stood there with his arms folded like a mountain, waiting for orders. The two Sarain reached out and pulled down their mage hats.

In the dark night, the Dark Rangers, whose number had increased to 25, appeared one after another.

"Then let's go and take him home."

Tyrion strode forward, the cloak behind him fluttering in the night, and his gray hair flying in the wind. Behind him, the murderous death knights followed their leader. Before, they had been in pain.

Now, it’s time to teach the arrogant nobles of the Alliance a lesson.
Chapter completed!