Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

The murky water wall, carrying broken wood and rubble, spread in all directions.

Like a runaway beast, it rampaged and flooded large areas of low-lying land.

The Darkmoon Elves hiding in the mangroves were scattered by the giant wave, and some were directly slammed into the tree trunks and lost consciousness.

Some were swept into the murky water, struggling desperately to surface, only to disappear into the churning rapids in the blink of an eye.

The cries of agony and pleas for help mingled with the roar of the waves, lasting only a few breaths before being swallowed up by the even louder sound of the water, and there was no echo.

After the floodwaters receded slowly, the land was covered with silt.

It revealed countless crystal-clear drops of starlight essence. These were the crystallized essence of Star Tear Lake accumulated over thousands of years.

Each one radiates a soft and pure halo, comparable in value to a secondary crystal nucleus.

At this moment, they densely covered the entire lakebed, as if scattered on the mudflats by an invisible hand.

From a distance, it looks like shattered diamonds scattered on the ground, so magnificent that it seems otherworldly.

But if it's paired with the corpse of a Darkmoon Elf, then it represents the beauty of death.

The Darkmoon Elves, having miraculously survived, disregarded their companions and scrambled out of the puddle in a disheveled state.

Without looking back, it fled desperately into the depths of the dense forest and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The knights of the Glorious Empire watched the fleeing figures, eager to give chase, but Drakken stopped them with a raised hand.

He glanced indifferently at the ravaged lake surface, his expression as calm as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.

Then he began to slowly instruct the legion to collect the Star Tear Essence scattered on the mudflats.

The knights bent over, groping in the mud, one, two, three...

Tens of thousands of crystals were successively collected into the storage bag.

Drakeng did not stop there.

He then slowly slapped Star Tear Lake a few more times, and with each slap, large amounts of sediment and crystals would surge up from the depths of the lake.

After several rounds, 70% of the lake's millennia-old accumulation has been dredged away.

The rest, buried deep in the rock crevices, will take another hundred years to solidify again into a considerable size.

The harvest was plentiful.

Drakken glanced down at the spatial artifact in his hand, which contained a massive amount of Star Tear Essence, and nodded in satisfaction.

He did not pursue the fleeing Darkmoon Elves.

These fleeing remnants of the army are not worth his time.

His true appetite lies in the two backbones of the elven world:

The World Tree and the Ancient Tree of Life.

He gazed into the distance at the World Tree to the north, its towering canopy reaching into the clouds and its branches spreading across half the sky.

He then turned to the southwest, to the lush, vibrant expanse of ancient trees, a verdant sea of ​​life resembling an emerald green, and a cold smile slowly crept onto his lips.

If we attack those two places, the elves should come out in full force, right?

Once their main force is lured out and wiped out, the remaining battlefield can be swept away.

The world of elves was thus officially conquered.

He pondered for a moment, then finally fixed his gaze on the ancient tree of life.

He still gave the business alliance some face.

After all, the two families had dealt with each other quite a bit in the past and had some kind of relationship.

This time, we won't steal their prey.

Although their advance was as slow as a snail's pace, it didn't seem like they could take it down.

Drakeng thought to himself, "Wait until you can't keep going."

If I then take over legitimately, no one can blame me.

Meanwhile, Ron and Edward, far away on the battlefield of the Tree of Life, were standing one after the other on a low hill, looking up at the dark golden light that was getting closer and closer on the horizon.

The point of light, like a falling meteorite, trailed an invisible tail of flame as it flew straight toward them.

Ron's face darkened instantly, and he angrily cursed:

"Damn it, we've been avoiding you guys, why did you still come!"

"Can't I secretly make a little money here?"

Edward's face was even darker than his, almost like the bottom of a pot.

He stared intently at the dark golden figure, his mind racing with calculations:

If an even more powerful Emperor of Glory were to interfere, forget about the Golden Fruit he so desperately wanted.

He might not even get a chance to keep the leaves on the tree.

He gritted his teeth and forced out a sentence:

"How are we supposed to play like this...?"

No matter how much dissatisfaction and resentment they harbored, they could only swallow their words in the face of the will of a world ruler.

Drakken was moving at an absurd speed, from the Darkmoon Forbidden Lands to the Ancient of Life battlefield.

Despite being thousands of miles apart, he only took half a day to complete the task.

The dark golden figure suddenly appeared in the sky above the battlefield, like a falling sun.

He looked down at the earth from his high vantage point, not even glancing at Ron and Edward.

It was as calm as looking at two roadside stones.

Then he withdrew his gaze, as if the two were not worth his attention, and went straight to attack the Tree of Life.

The sky above the battlefield of the Ancient Tree of Life was already as dark as lead.

This once vibrant woodland is now filled with the stench of scorching heat and bloodshed. Broken trees and tangled soil are scattered across the land, and the craters left by the battle are like scars.

Even the air was filled with a smell of burnt metal and rust.

With Drakken's arrival, the atmosphere on the entire battlefield was plunged into a deathly silence.

He made no unnecessary movements; his gaze was as firm as iron, fixed on the few golden fruits high in the tree canopy.

The dragon claw, carrying the will of the world's ruler, suddenly yanked out.

The golden fruit, along with the thick tree trunk, was torn apart.

The sound of the wood fibers snapping was dull and piercing, and the ancient tree of life emitted a muffled tremor, like a mournful cry coming from the depths of the earth's core.

That proud and powerful vitality was so fragile and vulnerable in the face of this emperor.

The cracks on the tree trunk spread rapidly like a spider web, and green liquid gushed out from the broken ends, only to be crushed into fine mist by an invisible pressure and dissipated in the wind.

Four ripe, golden fruits landed steadily in Drakeng's palm.

The light then faded, as if it had completely lost its soul.

Four immature fruits clung precariously to the broken branches.

Next, the thousands of larger ordinary fruits, along with large sections of branches, were swept into his spatial equipment.

The ancient tree was completely mangled, its branches broken and hanging haphazardly.

Ron and Edward stood at a distance, witnessing all of this, and both swallowed hard.

Ron cursed under his breath:

"Damn it, what are we going to eat now that you're here?"

He stared at the harvested fruit, feeling as if a piece of his heart had been ripped out, yet he forcefully suppressed the urge to rush forward.

Edward, his face grim, shook his head vigorously, his voice low and menacing:

"This Drakeng really lives up to his name; he's incredibly domineering."

The two exchanged a glance and, without uttering a word, stopped fighting at the same time.

They no longer tried to stop the demigod tree-man.

Even the main target has been stripped bare, so what's the point of the tree-blocking people?

The legions fighting below also sensed their commander's will. They sheathed their swords, lowered their bows, and began to retreat slowly and silently.

This silent concession expresses a wordless protest.

Emperor Drakens simply snorted coldly, not even glancing at them out of the corner of his eye.

It was as if these two, along with their hundreds of thousands of troops, were nothing more than ants crawling under the shade of a tree, not worth his utmost effort.

The demigod white jujube tree person rushed to the rescue, its thick branches covered with sharp thorns.

They tried to entangle Drakeng's ankles and drag him down.

Drakeng simply kicked it away, as if it were a piece of gravel blocking his path.

The enormous tree-man was kicked away, and half of its trunk almost broke off at the root.

It tumbled several times in mid-air before crashing heavily to the ground, breaking several large trees and sending up clouds of dust.

Ron watched the scene from afar, a chill creeping into his heart.

"This person's strength is truly domineering and brute force."

He stood rooted to the spot, watching Drakeng charge up the ancient tree canopy alone and begin his indiscriminate felling.

The blood-red battle blade reflected a cold, gleaming light in the dim light, and each strike brought with it a fierce gust of wind.

Large chunks of tree trunk fell with a thud, and leaves fluttered down like rain pelting withered lotus leaves.

He casually stored the cut-off tree trunks into his spatial equipment.