The Tree of Life, at first glance, looked like an ordinary oak sapling.

Its bark was smooth, displaying a pale gray-brown color, and its tender green branches gave those accustomed to the vast yellow sands a sense of charm.

But its actions were far from adorable.

Its roots, anchored in the ground, swiftly extended toward the pool where dragon blood gathered, until the pool dried up, even the blood-red color in the soil faded completely, and then began crawling toward the fallen body of the giant dragon.

The greed and eagerness it displayed made one subconsciously shudder with chill.

Yet under Losa's will, it ceased its extending motion.

Losa could sense the Tree of Life's longing, but this dragon corpse was quite an important trophy and couldn't be allowed to be entirely devoured by it.

Furinjira clicked her tongue in wonder: "This tree seems even more enthusiastic about drinking blood than we of the Blood Race, sir, is this the Tree of Life you mentioned?"

"That's right."

"It's unbelievable. Those elves who pride themselves on being pure and noble have planted such trees all over their territory."

Jeanne was also amazed: "I've encountered the elves of the New Continent, and their pet phrase was often 'Praise the Tree of Life'. I never expected it to be something like this?"

Prajna said flatly: "There's nothing strange about it, life always emerges from death."

Losa found a high ground suitable for city-building, where the outer layer of the rocks was heavily weathered, but the inside remained extremely solid. Building a tower here would allow visibility for miles around.

Moreover, Sego Village was indeed the throat connecting Transjordan with Hebron, and as peace gradually descended, it was bound to return to its former state, with endless caravans in the scene.

He pressed his palm against the rough rock surface.

The next moment, the ground began to tremble.

Bricks and stones emerged from the ground, as if alive, embedding deeply into the rock face, laying a perfect foundation underground, and then layer upon layer stacking upwards.

In the blink of an eye, it formed a wide castle wall.

The Winged Cavalry looked on in astonishment at the scene.

Another Miracle!

They looked at Losa with fervor, continuously drawing crosses on their chests.

Losa helped up a member of the Winged Cavalry and said: "No need for astonishment. Heavenly Father bestows upon me the power to perform miracles. You yourselves are part of that Miracle."

The Winged Cavalry said reverently: "Praise Heavenly Father, praise you, sir!"

"Send someone to Jorgelisburg, ask Leonard to bring thirty Armored Soldiers and a sufficient number of craftsmen to guard here and oversee the construction of the new city."

"Additionally, send two people to Sego Village to recruit city-building craftsmen. At the very least, build a Wooden Castle within the city walls for the soldiers stationed here to rest."

The Tree of Life was still eagerly waiting to feed.

Losa looked at Prajna and said: "Your Shield should be the only Weapon suitable here to cut off this Dragon Head."

Prajna nodded.

She stood before the Earth Dragon's head, and the black triangular shield began to spin rapidly.

She said, "The scene will be a bit gory, try not to look."

...

Kaler Castle.

The castle, ravaged by war and dilapidated, had now been mostly repaired.

The brand-new bricks stood in stark contrast with the old ones blackened by flames.

Reynard paced back and forth irritably in the Lord's Hall.

On the ground, paper scraps were scattered everywhere.

When intact, it was a letter Losa had sent to Kaler Castle, sealed with "Count of Transjordan's wax seal"—requesting "Baron Reynard" to perform the ceremony of swearing allegiance to him.

"Ha, Baron Reynard, he actually calls me a baron!"

"It's laughable, Werner's lucky son, who merely won one or two battles by luck, suddenly rides over me, took the most precious jewel of my territory."

"Now, instead of rejoicing privately and thanking his good fortune, he sits proudly on the throne that once belonged to me, imperiously calling me 'baron'?"

"Nonsense, I was once Duke of Antioch, such an illustrious title, even that cursed King with leprosy had to be respectful before me!"

"I once won the Battle of Mongisa, greatly shaming Saladin's face!"

He roared hysterically.

Reynard's life could indeed be called Legendary, from Gaul, in the division of the family, he only got a small piece of land in Châtillon as a Knight, but transformed himself by marrying Grand Duchess Constance of Antioch, becoming Duke of Antioch.

Then imprisoned by the Saracens for fifteen years, upon release, with Constance long deceased, he lost his ducal position.

So he married the widow of the Count of Transjordan, Stephanie, transforming himself again into Count of Transjordan.

For someone with such a legendary experience, calling Reynard a brainless fool was something no one would believe.

So, after his rage, he calmed down again.

He furrowed his brows tightly, pondering.

Moments later, he astonishingly picked up the scattered pieces of letters from the ground and arranged them on the table.

Regardless, he was already Losa's legal Vassal, and most of the vassals who once swore allegiance to him had defected to the other side.

"Reply to Count Losa, stating that Reynard is willing to swear allegiance to him, but since Kaler Castle is at the front line against the Heretics, please forgive me for being unable to personally come to seek an audience."

His Knights were shocked and angry: "My Lord, are you really going to bow down to that boy who doesn't even have a single whisker on his lip?"

"You mustn't, my Lord, if you bow your head now, reclaiming the title of Count would become indefensible legally!"

"My Lord, we all unanimously agree that only you are fit to be the Count of Transjordan. He's merely relying on the favor of that little King clinging to his last breath!"

"Hah."

Reynard sneered.

Only mud-legged peasants would think that a weak vassal might not keep his position.

The lords of Transjordan would be very willing to accept the leadership of a weak vassal, at least it means this vassal lacks capacity and will not interfere in their internal affairs.

For example, he had recently been upset with Baron Argon Rudolf over the inheritance issue of Petra.

As expected, as soon as Losa took office, the baron couldn't wait to flatter that lucky kid.

"Since you know he is favored by the King, let him enjoy it for a while; after all, he won't live much longer."

Reynard's eyes were filled with anger and unwillingness, yet his tone was unusually calm.

"I swear, I will take back everything that belongs to me!"

He paused slightly before he continued, "How is the Lady?"

The Knight sighed lightly, "The same, she only drinks a little water and eats a small piece of bread daily, standing on the balcony all day, gazing into the distance. The death of the young master was too much of a blow to her."

Someone was furious, their face full of tears: "That murderer, not only did the King not punish him, he even awarded him the title of Count. I refuse this, my lord!"

"That's right, we should immediately send troops to attack his Jorgelisburg, kill all his populace and soldiers, let him know we are not to be trifled with."

Reynard sat dejectedly on the lord's throne.

Admittedly, he did not like Hanfry, the son born from Stephanie and her former husband, but he still had feelings for Countess Stephanie.

In his most penniless times, having such a wife, if he said he was not grateful, that would be impossible.

Hopefully, your plan will succeed.

Reynard felt conflicted about knowing Stephanie had intimidated two Vampires to assassinate Losa.

But if Losa were to die suddenly, it would have something to do with him. Now, the troops of Kaler Castle only numbered more than a thousand, and together with Montreal, at most three thousand men might be fielded.

If the King were to dispatch his two Knight Orders to attack, he might not be able to withstand it.

However, he really couldn't bear to stop Stephanie, after all, there is no pain worse than losing a child at middle age.

At this moment, a heavy thud sounded.

His face changed slightly, a foreboding feeling involuntarily arose in his heart.

"What noise is that?"

The knights looked at each other in bewilderment and stood up one after another.

Reynard rushed out of the hall, following the sound.

Soon, he saw his wife, Countess Stephanie, lying like a lifeless corpse, head down, by the fountain in the courtyard.

The fountain water had been dyed red with blood.

Her face was pale, utterly devoid of color.

He quickly approached.

His fingers trembled as they placed themselves on Stephanie's neck, and the next moment they moved away quickly as if electrocuted.

Julia, hiding in the dark, wore a look of pride; who said assassination must require personal involvement?

She had used Magic on the balcony where Stephanie often gazed into the distance, identifying the section of railing she frequently held and corroding it with Magic.

As expected, this foolish woman, in a daze, grasping the railing, accidentally fell off.

Serves her right!

Now you know the consequences of threatening a noble Blood Race, don't you?

Watching Reynard's face filled with incredulous agony, she felt all the suppressed anger inside her being completely released.

"Who, who did this!"

Reynard shouted in grief and pain.

The entire castle shook.

Countless soldiers and knights ran upstairs to check.

A knight with a face full of grief stepped forward, lowered his voice, and said, "Master, the lady instructed us that if she dies, it must be those two Vampires..."

Reynard froze in place.

He ran back to the great hall, frantically pieced together a sentence from the paper shards scattered on the ground.

The handwriting was very elegant.

The phrase was also very gentle, like an old friend not seen for many years.

"By the way, let Baron Reynard know one thing, I have stripped Julia and Huaiya of their titles and lands and have severely punished them only because they spoke some harmful words against you."

Signed: Your close friend and Lord – Losa von Habsburg.

"Losa!"

"It was you!"

He clenched his fist tightly, nails breaking the skin.

He gritted his teeth, but instead, surges of coldness welled up in his heart.

To unknowingly kill his wife in front of the guards who were ready — does this mean he himself had narrowly escaped a brush with death at the Ghost Gate?

After a long time.

He let out a breath.

"The Lady died from losing her balance due to mental confusion, it was an accident, unrelated to anyone."

He already realized this was Losa releasing a signal to him — matters outside of the rules end here; playing outside the game board, you simply aren't my match.

"However, all servants and soldiers who were guarding the Lady erred by failing in their duties; everyone shall be sentenced to execution by beheading!"

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