When he saw the green will-o'-the-wisps hovering over the undulating mounds, Alex stopped walking.
"This is the place." He looked at Elias and swallowed his saliva: "What should we do?"
The surroundings were desolate. Weeds grew higher than his knees, swaying in the wind like arms waving beckoningly. Because of Elias's presence, those spirits did not dare to come out and wander; they hid completely deep within the earth.
Elias understood Alex's meaning. The spirits in the graveyard had all hidden away because of his appearance. At the same time, he could also sense some things that Alex did not know - gentle vibrations coming from deep underground.
Because of the appearance of the Angel of War, inside this piece of the ancient battlefield, the portion of power related to war was stirring, raising its head like iron meeting a magnet, yearning to be gathered.
This was also the reason why the spirit bodies did not dare to walk around casually; they were terrified before the pressure of the true ruler.
Alex looked at Elias. The Angel of War did not answer his question but just stood silently observing. Alex did not rush either; he felt the change in the atmosphere. The wind stopped blowing, and the space became heavy. The moment Elias set foot on this land, deep within the graveyard, something ancient and powerful was awakening.
The little spirit Gary clung to Alex's shoulder, his two small hands gripping Alex's collar. The boy also felt the change and trembled, nestling close to his master's neck.
This piece of land had been isolated by a special power, completely separated from the outside world.
Elias appeared very calm. What was awakening was the portion of power belonging to the ancient battlefield. It was power he should have held originally, but for various reasons, it had been compressed into the land of humans, absorbing resentment over thousands of years to exist.
The angel raised his head slightly, looking at the chaotic sky. Dark clouds obscured the moonlight, hanging heavy as if they wanted to collapse, threatening to fall at any moment, signaling an approaching storm.
This was a land abandoned by the gods, a place where prayers were never answered. At this moment, the god who belonged to it had descended, granting salvation, or perhaps, eternal liberation.
The Angel of War reached out his hand. Five white bony fingers lifted, the movement slow but full of authority. Following his movement, the ground began to crack open. Cluster after cluster of dark red, like clotted blood, rose from the earth. The quantity was so great that it nearly buried both the person and the skeleton, obscuring Alex's vision.
Countless screams rang out along with the appearance of the red light - the sound of metal colliding, the shouts of charging into battle, the groans before death.
Alex initially thought it was burning fire, the will-o'-the-wisps that the church school had taught about, but when he saw clearly what was inside the red light, he discovered how naive he had been.
It was skeleton after dry skeleton wrapped in red light. Scattered upon them were still rusted pieces of armor and broken swords plunged deep into their ribcages.
At this moment, they twisted their postures, emitting screams of pain. Each one carried its own unique agony, replaying the moment death had befallen them. They unreservedly poured out the resentment accumulated over thousands of years, combining into the most direct roaring scream, tearing at the soul, drowning humans raw in a sea of blood and hatred.
Alex shrank his neck, his face pale, and unconsciously shifted his steps toward Elias, seeking protection. They were both white skeletons, but Elias emitted a holy, majestic aura, while those dry skeletons wrapped in red light only brought people a feeling of yin evil, chaos, and madness.
Alex really did not like that feeling. He reached up to cover his ears, but he could not stop the roaring screams from piercing his eardrums. Gary did the same, using his small hands to cover his ears, his small face wrinkled in pain. This kind of power struck directly at the soul. Being a pure spirit body, the boy suffered even more serious damage than Alex; his blurred body flickered as if about to dissipate.
Even though the boy's power came from death, he instinctively detested this filthy, heavy feeling.
"They are all people who died on the battlefield." Elias explained, his voice echoing in Alex's mind, overpowering the screams: "Bound to this land for thousands of years, their souls mixed with killing intent and the stench of blood, they have been corrupted and can no longer reincarnate."
"Then what should be done?" Alex shouted, his throat sore. Against the background of chaotic roaring, he was not sure if Elias could hear his voice: "Do you want to banish them? Or destroy them completely?"
Elias shook his head. His skeletal hand waved slightly, and those dry skeletons wrapped in red light all flew toward this side, one after another, gathering into a surging red sea of rough waves.
Through the layer of light, Alex sensed their frantic screaming; the sound came in layers like a tidal wave.
Although he knew that with Elias here, these things could not harm him in the slightest, looking through the red light to see the various twisted, distorted expressions inside, Alex still could not help but shudder, goosebumps rising all over his body.
"Alex." Elias said: "I will cleanse the stern killing energy on them for you. You must tell the spirit to open the path six feet deep underground. Only that path can lead them to a place of rest."
"You want to send them to reincarnate?" Alex was astonished, his voice pitching high with surprise: "Didn't you say these guys were already corroded and couldn't reincarnate? The door of reincarnation won't accept filthy souls."
Elias shook his head, not explaining much, simply giving an order.
"Do as I say, Alex."
The angel took a step forward. A brilliant red halo surrounded him, completely contrasting with the surrounding darkness. Vaguely, Alex saw a roll of tattered banner, still fluttering proudly. It was the flag he had seen in the Hall of Divine Selection. The flag was swept up by the wind, draping over Elias's shoulders like a red cloak soaked in fresh blood of a brave general in ancient tales.
Those red lights seemed to receive the summons of the angel. They were peeled away from the dry skeletons that were screaming ferociously, like peeling off a layer of rotting skin. Speck after speck of light broke away from the struggling souls, rushing toward the white skeleton draped in the banner.
The holy skeleton was surrounded by red light. Gradually, even that divine aura was drowned in this red wave. Great waves surged, and the screams now besieged Elias, but the existence standing in the center had never moved half a step, steady as a mountain.