These are the titles of heroes charging on the battlefield.
They were once renowned generals of the United Army, who later joined the Night Watchers, gaining their identity and power.
But Night Watchers are not immortal.
Those who are always at the forefront, leading the troops and maintaining morale, still face high mortality rates.
Even when they have reached Level Ten, and so are on the verge of becoming Legendary.
In wars to reclaim holands and eliminate demons and evil, death is inevitable.
These famous heroic spirits, after falling on the battlefield, were placed in these specially made coffins.
Unexpectedly, they have not been buried even now.
But it indeed doesn't need much attention.
Because the bodies of Night Watchers have a unique trait: they do not decay until the world reclaims their power.
Especially under Kana's arrangents.
The soul ritual carries on silently, with only the heavy footsteps and the rustle of robes audible.
The entire square is so quiet that a pin drop can be heard, even breathing becos cautious.
Those Legendary figures, especially those of the magic system, sat silently holding their breath in the spectacle audience stands.
Even at their level, they couldn't help but feel stirred at this mont.
They had long noticed sothing amiss about the city.
Knew so of the special behaviors of the Night Watchers.
Many wise n speculated what the Night Watchers might be up to, but they dared not conclude until the mont arrived.
A larger, purer force of soul power emanated from these obsidian coffins, resonating and blending with the city's night soul force mist.
At this mont, the black and white giant dragon perched atop the Light Torch's crown, moved.
She elegantly raised her massive head, and with eyes containing the cycles of life and death, gazed serenely down at the array of coffins below.
She did not unleash a deafening dragon roar, but instead opened her maw and emitted a deep, prolonged dragon chant that seed to resonate directly within the soul.
With her chant, streams of energy consisting solely of black and white light, like soft draperies, flowed from her body, covering all the obsidian coffins below.
That light contained an indescribable great power, both soothing and blessing, as well as connecting.
The runes on the coffins lit up instantly, emitting a gentle and sacred halo.
Everyone present, regardless of strength or weakness, felt a profound tranquility from the origin of life and the return to death, as if restless souls were gently soothed.
"The Dragon of Life and Death... she is blessing the heroic souls..." the snake-man priest hissed softly, his slit eyes filled with awe.
"What a... powerful being..." The Elf Prince Orien, for the first ti, set aside all his arrogance, leaving only pure shock on his face.
Though he had known about the Night Watchers' connections with the mysterious giant dragon when learning about them.
But knowing and seeing are two completely different things.
Since he arrived here, the black and white dragon had been perched upon the "Light Torch" like a sculpture.
Now she was moving.
Among elves, dragons have always been revered and worshiped.
After all, the few Star Realm Giant Dragons left behind initially chose the elves for preparations to save the world, otherwise, elves wouldn't have beco the world's overlords.
Researching history shows.
Dragons were the true key to the elves' rise.
As the blessing light enveloped the entire site, most spectators were imrsed in rembrance for the fallen and awe for the dragon's great power.
When they assud the ritual had reached its climax and would gently conclude — the Light Torch itself suddenly changed!
The originally stable and softly glowing milk-white crown seed to ignite billions of stars instantly inside!
An unprecedented, purely extre, seemingly darkness-penetrating and falsehood-shattering blazing white pillar of light shot up unexpectedly and silently from the crown's center, reaching skyward!
This pillar of light was so vast, so dazzling, it imdiately illuminated the whole North City, even the cold north wall of the Tower of Despair as if it was daylight! The night was entirely torn apart!
Within the pillar wasn't empty.
A figure was slowly descending from the core of the Light Torch's crown, along the sky-piercing pillar of light.
The black and white dragon gracefully lowered beside, in a gesture of respect.
The giant dragon, which had been roaming the sky, swiftly landed beside it, slightly lowering its head.
He wore a simple yet infinitely majestic robe of silver, white, and gold, resembling the attire of the Night Watchers yet transcending the mundane limits.
His deanor was calm, youthful yet ancient with a cosmic depth, black eyes profound like the universe, seemingly reflecting the river of life and death.
His very presence exuded an unfathomable, instinctively worshipful and awe-inspiring imnse aura.
That aura, gentle yet supre, akin to the primordial light of creation, as well as the finality of all things.
All sounds in the square vanished.
All movents froze.
All thoughts stalled.
Regardless of proud elves, foolish nobles, astute beastn, strong minotaurs, wise snake-n, or battle-hardened Night Watcher Warriors, even the black and white giant dragon perched on the crown at this mont only looked up at that figure, their souls thoroughly filled, shaken, and overwheld by a divine nature beyond comprehension.
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