The Ghost Martial Tribe has always been searching for the remnants of Pruitt Wilde.

In Boulevard Mountain, ditzy Baylor Davenport once mentioned it to Julius Reed.

Apparently, in the North Sea's royal court, they have always been worshiping a porcelain statue of Pruitt Wilde.

Even the royalty personally goes to pay respects during big events or major festivals.

Within the royal court, there's even a specific official position responsible for performing priestly duties.

This made Julius Reed suspect whether the North Sea's attack on Demarco Mount was orchestrated by Lillian Tompson to eliminate Isabella Warm and others.

In the end, it forced Eliezer Pine to personally go to the Wolf Cavalry camp to bring in the Wolf Cavalry to quell the rebellion.

The holy maiden of the Ghost Martial Tribe, Lillian Tompson, who was always active around Julius Reed, was also searching for the so-called ancestral remains.

Ever since he learned of this maid's identity, he began to learn about the Ghost Martial Tribe, about this Pruitt Wilde who frequently appeared in his dreams.

As for how Julius Reed knew the arm belonged to Pruitt Wilde.

It's quite simple.

He had dreamed countless times about Pruitt Wilde; though he couldn't see his face, he could clearly see the arm.

The inscriptions on it, though eroded by time, were still distinct!

The only difference was that the hair had long fallen off.

Revealing a clean arm.

The entire arm was slightly dark but contained abundant spiritual power.

Holding it gave a feeling of fullness.

It truly is Pruitt Wilde.

Back then, Julius Reed had to use several swords to kill him.

However, he never expected a tribe like the Ghost Martial Tribe would silently hide away.

For thousands of years, they've been thinking about resurrecting their ancestor.

So be it.

For now, he would keep the arm for himself.

Julius Reed wasn't sure if Pruitt Wilde could really be resurrected.

Nor did he know if resurrection required all the body parts.

But.

Even if Pruitt Wilde were resurrected incomplete.

Missing an arm would surely make his combat power plummet.

At that time, he could just find another opportunity to kill him again.

A complete Pruitt Wilde was hard to kill, but a crippled Pruitt Wilde wouldn't pose a challenge, right?

"Hero... could you..."

Slap!

Davion just started speaking, but before he could finish.

He received a solid slap on the face from Dorian Cook.

"What hero, call him Commanding Officer."

Dorian Cook stood with her hands on her hips, eyes full of mockery.

Davion was filled with rage, but he didn't dare express it, only forced a smile.

"Commanding officer, this..."

Slap!

Another slap from Dorian Cook.

This time, all the martial artists present were stunned.

They say women change faces quickly, but this was too fast.

Just a few minutes ago, they were on the same side.

The shaman even carried Dorian Cook on his back.

How did she change so completely after a trip to the tent?

Moreover, it seemed like both were captured enemies, so why was their treatment different?

"Why are you hitting me!" This time, even Davion couldn't take it.

He held his face, his eyes slightly red.

"Why!"

The shaman.

The High Priest of the Ghost Martial Tribe!

An expert in mental abilities!

Yet he was being repeatedly slapped by a woman in this small forest.

Did he have no dignity?

"I told you, call him Commanding Officer," Dorian Cook said word by word: "You only called him Commanding Officer, where's the 'sir'?"

"Hiss..." Davion took a deep breath, striving to stay calm. "Commanding Officer, sir..."

As he said this, he instinctively stepped back.

And covered his face with his hand.

But no one hit him.

"This child, so pitiful, got beaten into a shadow!"

"Nonsense, you'd be the same if you got beaten."

The surrounding martial artists couldn't help but discuss.

Their voices carried sympathy.

But their eyes showed satisfaction.

They learned something.

Next time they caught an enemy, they would play like this.

"Commanding Officer, sir, this is my item, could you..." Davion was interrupted once more.

"Young man, I'm not dead yet. How can you lie with your eyes open?" Dorian Cook bent down, tapping the shaman's cheek continuously: "Don't forget, when you were asking for that item from Sutton, I was right beside you."

"And don't forget that when Sutton took that item from the Black Pine League, I was also there."

"Heeheehee..."

Dorian Cook laughed happily, but Davion couldn't manage a smile.

He couldn't understand, weren't they supposed to be in the same boat?

How did this woman suddenly defect?

"Little brother, the more you talk, the higher the chance you'll get beaten." Julius Reed struck Davion's forehead lightly with a fist: "Anything else to say?"

"Nothing." Davion hung his head in despair.

Suddenly.

He looked up, pointing at Dorian Cook: "I report, this woman is in cahoots with Sutton!"

"On the way, I heard she killed your people!"

Damn woman, since you're heartless, don't blame me for being unjust!

Everyone might as well suffer together.

"I knew that long ago." Julius Reed stood beside Dorian Cook, pointed at her, and looked at the martial artists present: "Brothers, how should we deal with this woman?"

"Listen to the commanding officer."

Anyway, the dead are already dead.

And there wasn't a strong relationship among the martial artists.

Might as well curry favor with the commanding officer in front of them.

"See?"

Julius Reed spread his hands: "Shaman, if you behave from now on, I can be lenient with you. But if you try to play tricks with me, I'll kill you in no time!"

Clang!

A sword pierced the tree behind Davion!

In the moonlight.

The blade shimmered.

Quite intimidating.

"Lock him up!"

After Julius Reed finished speaking, the surrounding martial artists quickly tied up Davion and took him to his tent.

"Could it be the commanding officer has a taste for this? I find the shaman fair and cute."

After everything was settled, many martial artists looked at the tent with curiosity.

"Stop speculating, didn't you see how that kid got beaten just now?"

A companion reminded, and everyone went about their own business, staying away from the tent.

Inside the tent.

Davion was tied to a chair.

Julius Reed held a small knife, gently placing it against his face. "Talk about Lillian Tompson. If I find your information useful, you can avoid death. Otherwise, you'll get a cut."

"I'll tell, I'll tell everything." Davion was resigned.

Just escaped the tiger's mouth, now fell into the wolf's den.

Why is it so hard to survive?

"Is Lillian Tompson lurking beside the Holy Lord? How many years has it been? What was her original goal? And what exactly is your Ghost Martial Tribe like?"

Julius Reed bombarded him with questions.

He wanted to understand.

"After the ancestor Pruitt Wilde was killed, it was said that if all the scattered remains of Pruitt Wilde were found, he could be resurrected. Back then, Lillian Tompson went to the Ten Thousand Mountain Alliance because one of our priests, disguised as a tributer entering the great hall, discovered traces of the ancestor's remains."

"This news shocked the tribe. The Ghost Martial Tribe dispatched the holy maiden at the time to Demarco Mount to investigate, but unexpectedly the holy maiden gained longevity. It seems the Holy Lord was lustful and gave Lillian Tompson an elixir for longevity."

"It must be, I've seen that Holy Lord, definitely a lustful pervert!"

"Yes, a lecher!"

Whenever Davion mentioned this matter, he felt distressed.

"Spit."

He spat on the ground.

"Deserved to be overthrown!"

Julius Reed glanced at the dagger in his hand, feeling a bit helpless.

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