A different world game? A different world game!

The wasteland in front of the mine was a scene of utter devastation.

Screams and wails rose and fell, and the strong smell of blood lingered in the air for a long time.

"Ok!"

Serena gripped her knight's sword tightly with both hands and yanked it out of the chest of the grey-skinned elf before her. As the blade was pulled out, a large amount of blood gushed from the wound.

The Darkmoon Elf fighting her stared wide-eyed, his eyes bloodshot, his gaze gradually unfocused, yet he still kept his eyes fixed on her.

“Dark Moon…will eventually win…freedom!” he murmured, then collapsed to the ground.

Serena drew her sword, ignoring the corpse, held it horizontally in front of her, assumed a fighting stance, and cautiously surveyed her surroundings.

However, at this moment, the enemies standing around were gone.

The Darkmoon Elf's minions had been slaughtered, and humans and orcs lay scattered on the ground, their blood mingling and pooling, turning the entire battlefield into a blood-red lake.

She saw her captain—the centurion—gripping a gleaming cross-shaped sword, chasing after them.

He was chasing several wounded Darkmoon Elves.

Serena felt that the entire battlefield had fallen into an eerie silence, with no other sounds except for the wails and screams of the wounded.

She couldn't hear what the Darkmoon Elves were saying; she only saw them lying on the ground, some with angry faces, some pleading bitterly, and others looking confused and numb.

The centurion gave chase, brandishing his cross-shaped sword.

A flash of azure light, and one after another, the vibrant lives of elves perished.

Serena turned her gaze in confusion in another direction, where screams were coming from.

Not far away, a fallen Darkmoon Elf trembled as he got up from the ground, his other hand still tightly gripping the blade.

On the other side, a Radiant Elf, also covered in wounds, roared and cursed as he swung his sword at his opponent.

Both sides fought with their last ounce of strength, and finally, the Darkmoon Elf fell to the ground.

Immediately afterwards, the Radiant Elf also swayed, could no longer hold on, and collapsed.

"The enemy is still resisting. Grip your swords and give them the punishment they deserve!" The centurion's voice echoed in Serenaa's ears.

"kill!"

Crimson once again filled Serenaa's pupils.

She roared, gripped her sword tightly, and charged toward the still-fighting Darkmoon Elf.

The sword was wielded mercilessly, thrusting and slashing.

Just as she was fighting bravely, a figure rushed from the side, knocked her to the ground, and pinned her down.

Faced with this sudden attack, Serenaia did not hesitate to prepare to cast a spell to blast the attacker away.

"Serenaia! Wake up! It's me!" the person on top of her shouted urgently.

Serena's gathered magic dissipated instantly.

"What are you doing!" Serenaia couldn't help but scream.

This is a battlefield where life and death are at stake, and this behavior is tantamount to murdering a comrade, which infuriates Serena.

"Open your eyes, don't just look at your feet, look around!"

Hearing her friend's slightly weak voice, Serena looked around in confusion.

There are no more Darkmoon Elves on the battlefield.

Of the more than 500 members of the "Thorn Society," only 20 or 30 remain, standing on the battlefield with bewildered expressions.

Some crazed comrades were gripping their weapons, finishing off the unconscious Darkmoon Elves lying on the ground.

Such a scene, in the civil war among the elves, has far exceeded the scope of what can be described as "madness".

The bloodshot color in Serena's pupils faded instantly, and she regained consciousness.

It was as if various sounds were flooding into her ears again in the silent space.

Screams, roars, wails, curses...

"What's going on?" Serena murmured to herself in confusion.

Suddenly, she felt something was wrong and quickly looked at her friend who was on top of her.

It was a corpse that still retained a trace of warmth, but was already lifeless. Serena's gaze was blank, her mind a complete void, unable to think.

……

"You're all insane! You're all insane! How could you do this? Why would you do this?!"

Bathed in the City of Life, one of the main cities of the Radiant Elves, lies a branch of the Tree of Life, vital to the elves.

In a courtyard of the city, the furious roar of an elf echoed. This roar, devoid of its former elegance, was now filled only with boundless rage.

An elven general, clad in knight's armor and with a sword at his waist, is venting his fury wildly.

In the long course of his life, for hundreds of years, he had never been so angry, nor had he ever roared so desperately.

The people around were stunned into silence.

They had never seen the general so out of control.

The centurion, who was being glared at and berated by him, was still recovering from his wounds and looked defiant.

"I'm asking you a question! Speak up!"

The general didn't give the centurion a chance to speak. Then, he pointed to the centurion's back, where about thirty elves were standing.

These elves were all wounded, many had broken eyes, and many more looked bewildered.

“Over five hundred brothers! And this is all you brought back? What do you take your compatriots for? Cannon fodder?” General Albert questioned angrily, trying to get an answer from the other party that he could not understand at all.

"I'm just sending you to intimidate them, to tell those gray-skinned guys that if they continue this behavior, we will retaliate."

This isn't about asking you to launch a counterattack on the spot! It's not about asking you to start a war!

You actually killed all the elves in the mine! You're insane!

There were originally 431 Darkmoon Elves in the mine, but this madman didn't leave a single one alive, slaughtering them all without even taking a single prisoner.

Just crazy!

General Albert could think of no other word than "madness" to describe the situation before him.

"Shut up! I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now. Take him away!"

Seeing that the centurion wanted to explain, General Albert didn't give him a chance and gave the order directly.

Let the professionals handle it; he's already exhausted.

The centurion was tightly bound by the magic of the elven mage beside him, suspended in mid-air, and dragged away.

General Albert took a few steps back and sat heavily in the chair behind him, his face as pale as paper.

What was originally intended as a simple deterrent operation inexplicably resulted in heavy casualties among nearly a thousand elves.

Whether it's the Darkmoon Elves or the Radiant Elves, in the hearts of most elves, even though the two races have just split, they are still ultimately the same elven race.

Moreover, the deaths of the three Radiant Elves were already shrouded in mystery. Although the news had leaked out, the upper-middle elves had been secretly searching for clues.

But this time, the situation is completely different.

The slaughter of four hundred Darkmoon Elves, leaving not a single survivor, will surely drive the entire Darkmoon Elf race into madness.

For hundreds of years, the Elven race had never suffered such a devastating blow.

The ones who slaughtered the elves were actually the elves themselves!

Moreover, these are the Radiant Elves, who already harbor resentment among the various branches of the Elf race.

As an elven general, Albert was all too aware of the current situation.

Such news cannot be kept secret; each elf has accumulated a vast network of connections over hundreds of years.

Hatred will spread wildly through these networks.

What started as a tribal division is now likely to escalate into a real war.

He no longer dared to imagine what would happen next.

Looking at the dozens of young elves whose faces were clearly abnormal, Albert wanted to say something, but in the end he could only shut his mouth, sigh helplessly, and wave his hand.

Serena, looking bewildered, turned and left from the crowd. (End of Chapter)