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

The elves beneath the tree had tears in their eyes.

A near-mad flame ignited in those emerald green pupils.

With a roar, they raised their bows and spears, forming a dense battle formation and firing wildly at Drakens.

Arrows rained down like locusts, obscuring half the sky.

Among them were many arrows of light condensed from second- and third-level magic, trailing colorful tails as they shot toward the dark golden figure.

But when these attacks collided with that quasi-world treasure, the Dragon Scale Armor...

A series of crisp clanging sounds rang out, as if the arrows had struck an impenetrable wall.

They were all bounced off and landed crookedly in all directions, without even touching the hem of Drakens' clothes.

"Hmph! Noisy!" Drakens snorted.

With a sudden slam of his right palm, a dark golden phantom claw descended from the sky, like a giant iron hammer smashing into the ant colony.

Thousands of lives were reduced to ashes by that single blow, without even a chance to scream.

But the elves ignored them.

As those in front fell, those behind immediately stepped over their fallen comrades to take their place.

Millions of attacks rained down like a storm, densely striking his dragon scale armor and causing tiny bursts of magical energy.

Although it still couldn't harm Drakeng himself.

But the relentless impact eventually caused his body to sway slightly.

The power of the Dragon Scale Armor can only be fully unleashed by activating battle qi.

Each time Drakeng blocks an attack, one unit of his battle aura is consumed.

Although this is insignificant to the Lord of the World, it adds up to millions of times.

A hint of impatience gradually crept into his cold, stern dragon eyes.

Several more attacks were unleashed, and thousands of lives fell instantly, their blood staining large areas of the ground red.

But the number of elves seemed endless, and when combined with monsters and treants, there were millions.

A dense, surging tide of elves enveloped Drakken.

Swords flashed and magic exploded from all directions.

Although Drakeng could take hundreds of lives with each strike, they refused to retreat.

The roars of the monsters and the howls of the elves intertwined, actually pinning the world's ruler firmly to the spot, unable to advance an inch.

The demigod white jujube tree man has also returned.

This time it didn't charge recklessly; the previous kick had taught it a lesson.

It chooses to take root beside the ancient tree, connecting its dense, spiderweb-like root system with the domain of the ancient tree of life.

Then he went forward to face Drakens' attack head-on.

The green radiance of life spread from the base of the ancient tree, surging towards the battlefield in waves like tides.

The severed branches are visibly sprouting and growing again.

After the injured elf was enveloped in light, its wounds quickly closed and healed, and even the severed limbs grew new flesh.

The ancient tree and the tree-man worked together seamlessly, not seeking to kill the enemy, but only to delay them.

This confines Drakens within a constantly self-repairing cage.

The glorious emperor fought against a million men single-handedly.

Although it was powerful and imposing, it did feel somewhat constrained.

Each swing of the sword deflects hundreds of attacks coming from different angles.

These attacks also included sneak attacks from several third-tier powerhouses.

Hidden under the cover of ordinary elves, they launched a sudden attack when Drakken was distracted, though they did not inflict fatal wounds.

But the impact was enough to make him stagger.

The damage wasn't significant, but it accumulated over time, causing veins to bulge on his forehead and his breathing to become slightly rapid.

Ultimately, he was too impatient.

If he waited for the imperial legions to advance all at once and used a tight military formation to hold back these miscellaneous soldiers, he could calmly dismantle the trees, harvest the fruit, and leave.

Now, isolated and deep in enemy territory, we are surrounded by hostility from all sides.

Every attack must be withstood by oneself; even the ruler of the world would find it difficult to cope.

Worse still, the legion he ordered to retreat from the Darkmoon Forbidden Lands was now struggling to make its way through the dense forest.

The Darkmoon Elves caught up again.

They moved through the forest like ghosts, ambushing, harassing, and attacking logistics.

In a whole day, the Glory Legion couldn't even cover thirty miles.

Screams occasionally erupted from the jungle, then quickly fell silent, as if the soldiers had been swallowed whole by the night.

Dimensional warfare is never something one person can handle alone.

The strong are the spearhead, the legion is the shaft.

Without the tip of the pole, even the sharpest blade cannot penetrate deeply.

Ron and Edward, on the other hand, were left with nothing to do. They stood side by side on the hill, watching Drakken being surrounded like it was a grand spectacle.

Although the elves suffered heavy casualties, Drakeng's expression grew increasingly irritable.

Although the elves suffered heavy casualties, their corpses piled up like small mountains.

But Drakeng's expression had changed; the composure and arrogance he had displayed upon arrival had been replaced by a thin layer of anxiety.

He glanced several times in the direction of Ron and his companion in the distance, his lips moved, but he ultimately remained silent.

Since he didn't ask for help, Ron and Edward were naturally happy to play dumb.

He was the one who interfered and stole the fruit.

Now that they've suffered a setback, who would be eager to help?

Ron even began ordering Hart to assemble the troops and figure out where to retreat:

"The World Tree? No, no... that's the last resort." He muttered to himself, calculating his escape route.

Ultimately, Drakeng gave up.

He swept his spear across, tearing a gap in the encirclement and breaking free.

He stepped back a hundred feet, his chest heaving slightly, his gaze fixed on the ancient tree of life.

The previously severed branches have grown back, the cut ends glowing with a green light. The ancient tree even has the strength to send a ray of light down on the spirits lying in pools of blood.

Drakken's face turned ashen as he pulled out a communication crystal to contact his own legion.

The result was the bad news that they were being held hostage by the Darkmoon Elves.

His face was three times darker than the gloomy sky.

Emperor Drakeng, who grew up in the royal family, was exceptionally talented and stubborn. He always believed in breaking the law with force and had never experienced such humiliation before.

We can't advance now, and we'd lose face if we retreated.

The situation is really awkward.

Ron, watching this scene from a distance, shook his head inwardly:

"With a personality like that, he'd probably suffer a great loss in the lava core world."

He was even somewhat worried that the upcoming interdimensional war, led by the Glory Empire, might become the first crushing defeat for the Terran world.

Drakeng had to put aside his arrogance and start devising a countermeasure.

He now only has two options: either turn back to support the legion and then advance steadily;

They either have to humble themselves and join forces with Ron and Edward.

Given his temperament, he naturally chose the former—though he still couldn't save face.

But the branches, leaves, and fruits he had just chopped off from the ancient tree of life were priceless, and he was reluctant to give them up.

Just as he was about to set off, the communication crystal lit up again; it was Guderian.

He had no choice but to answer, and after a few brief words, Drakeng's face turned extremely ugly.

Guderian's tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable warning:

"You'll have to figure out what to do over there at the Tree of Life."

But you absolutely must not lure the Darkmoon Elves there, otherwise you will ruin the entire battle.

This is a war led by the Magic Empire; we won't interfere with you, the ruler of this world.

"But if you ruin everything, we won't cooperate with you any further from the lava core."

Drakeng gripped the crystal ball tightly, revealing the resentment in his heart at that moment.

He knew full well that Guderian's words were true—some within the Elven ranks were advocating abandoning all royal courts.

Concentrate all our strength to defend the Ancient Tree of Life and the World Tree, should the Darkmoon Elves really swarm here.

With the domains of the two sacred trees overlapping, this war will likely drag on for several more years.

The human alliance does not want to see that situation.

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, put the crystal ball away, and remained silent for a moment.

Then, he turned around and stepped into the void.

They flew step by step toward where Ron and Edward were.