In the far north, spring is just a shy whisper, but near Sword Lake in central Rutgar, greenery has permeated every inch of the land. The life force that fills the air makes the weeping forest, with its many terrifying legends in the night, no longer gloomy.

But under the protection of magic, some parts of the forest, although they quietly change color, are still silent as if they are in eternal sleep.

A woman walks alone in the woods, her crimson cloak embroidered with intricate patterns resembling an overly bright flower, still striking in the moonlight.

But the woman is not worried that anyone will snoop on her whereabouts, nor is she worried about getting lost. She remembered the place where she was born again...... She didn't want to come back here if she could.

There is a small clearing in the middle of the woods. Lydia Bell stopped, stunned for a moment.

She seldom thought about it, and at the moment she was inevitably surprised by the clarity of her memory. She even remembered the roots of the tree that had come out of the ground more than twenty years ago and tripped her, the smug feeling she felt when she knew that no matter how willful her request was, and the excitement she felt when she first ventured into the underground passage that had been buried for thousands of years and learned that she was facing the secrets of an ancient country whose legends had been forgotten.

Ankeland, the Cursed City...... The power to be feared.

After that, she had actually returned more than once - the closed road didn't stop a curious mage.

Alan probably knows...... At least the damn half-elf must have known, but no one had stopped her.

They probably decided that she wouldn't want to be a necromancer. It's extremely stupid to make yourself the target of public criticism. Especially a woman like her who likes to be noticed...... But she really couldn't refuse any call of strength.

And after the death of her loved ones, she has even more perfect reasons to immerse herself. When you leave all the so-called "human" limitations behind, the world will appear to you in a different light.

She never regretted summoning the power from hell here without hesitation. The power that boiled in every one of her blood was so powerful. At that moment, she even felt that she had become a god who could look down on the common people...... She just regretted not being more careful - thanks to the damn half-elf, after all.

They found her, at the most critical moment...... And Nia Meyer, who she thought would never hurt her, plunged a dagger deep into her abdomen.

No one can be trusted.

She laughed out loud after a roar of rage when she felt the cold embrace of the Grim Reaper—at least, they would bury her together, and they would be buried here together...... At that moment. She even resents Scott for not showing up.

"Adventure" is an exciting and dangerous game. They had promised each other that if they succeeded, they would share wealth and glory. If they fail, they will embrace death together. Under no circumstances will they leave anyone behind.

...... That's just another lie. As a result, only the stinking dwarf really died. And Alan didn't even come back to collect his body.

She unconsciously pressed against her abdomen. There was always a faint ache there, as if to remind her of something—yes, she knew that Nia had returned from hell, and that she would one day make him regret it.

Lydia stared at her feet in distraction. There was a large crater in the ground that had fallen, and she knew who had caused it. Over the course of a few years, the earth, the fallen leaves, the flourishing flowers and plants. It already makes it look like a naturally formed depression

Clearly, the chamber below has been completely destroyed. She should have destroyed this place more than a decade ago. It's just that she's too weak when she wakes up shivering on the ground, and there's so much she has to do after that......

No, perhaps it should be admitted, she just doesn't want to come back.

What is the need? She already knows all the secrets here, and the magic of the Weeping Forest will continue to hide its tracks.

Now, she suspects she's wrong—there's more secrets hidden here.

She frowned slightly, unsure if she could find anything useful from the messy pit in front of her. She had come back once when she knew that Isis had appeared here, and at that time, what attracted her more than the big pit in the ground was the square pit not far away, and even the dirt on it was flat.

She thought it was the grave of Logan Türk - she thought that Iss had come back here to bury Laugan after knowing everything.

For a moment she was even inexplicably relieved and moved, and then she calmly realized that there was too much to make sense. Even if anyone had ever told Iss what had happened here, he couldn't have flown back after a few years of being a dragon and living alone on his own, only to drag Ragan out of the ground and bury it all over again.

She used the simplest method to clear her doubts - manipulating the vines to dig up the grave.

When she saw Wellington, the corpse of the necromancer who had disappeared from the ice field chased by Is, exposed to the stars, she finally understood why there were broken bones all over the floor.

So she summoned Wellington's spirit to find out what was going on.

Wellington was reluctant, but he could - and could only answer all her questions honestly. She underestimated the curiosity of the elf who got the silver coin...... Other than that, she didn't find anything more worthy of her attention. The slate that the elf took was nothing more than a sign, and would be of no use other than to cause a bunch of trouble for himself. She even enjoys appreciating the chaos it can cause...... But the elf was very cautious about it.

The mage pulled back her scattered thoughts, looked at the forest not far away, and then turned her head to look around. She knew that the place where she stood was right in the middle of Ankeland, but the buildings on the ground were completely gone, and she wondered if there was anyone else here who could describe to her the appearance of the lost kingdom.

...... Maybe there's one more. She thought.

In any case, the dead would always know things that the living did not know, see things that the living could not, and she now knew what questions she was supposed to ask. She feared that too much time had passed, and that the never-extinguishing crucible of hell might have reduced the not-so-tenacious soul to useless shards to fill the gaps in the Wall of Oblivion.

She drew the circle, and a moment later, a phantus appeared in front of her, looking around blankly.

"Wellington. She called the mage's name.

"Li...... Dia. ”

A silent response rang in her head—he still recognized her, and that's a good thing.

"With your eyes, where is the strongest power in the former land of Anclan, apart from here?" asked Lydia simply.

It was not easy to summon a soul that still possessed consciousness to a world that no longer belonged to them, and every minute of time that passed took away her power.

He wouldn't listen...... This city of the dead...... The blessed land...... "The soul of the dead answered the question.

“...... There's supposed to be an altar or something in this place, where is it?" Lydia interrupted him impatiently.

"Red as fire, red as blood...... Genie...... Jumping around, jumping around......" the mage howled suddenly, "That's my thing!"

"Red what?" Lydia grabbed the word that came closest to her guess.

"Death. The mage muttered to himself, and began to dangle like drunk, the shadow of his soul sometimes blurred, sometimes clear, "Only death." Jumping around......"

"What's red?!" Lydia snapped, quickly losing her patience.

"Death. He smiled at her, twisted and crazy, "White Death." ”

-- It's a complete waste of time.

In a fit of rage, she sent the dying soul back to hell.

The world fell silent, and she looked around again, in a fit of rage that wanted to dig through almost every inch of the place, but it was too time-consuming and laborious, and could probably destroy the magic completely...... She didn't want everyone to know what was going on here.

So...... She had one way left, and that would take a little luck - that would take a lot of luck. And the illusory thing of "luck" has always been what she spurns the most.

She let out a long sigh, let go of her cloak, took out a delicate crystal bottle from her waist bag, carefully poured the black sand into her hand, whispered a spell, and slowly blew it around with the wind.

The dusty sands of time flickered faintly, blending into the night. After a few moments, the surrounding landscape slowly changed like a dream.

It's as if a pair of invisible giant hands have redrawn everything, making the ancient city that had disappeared for thousands of years rise again. Several towers, apparently not made by craftsmen, shoot into the sky, and the stone walls around them are full of intricate sculptures, with a certain overly deliberate boast, but no lack of charm.

Lydia narrowed her eyes, trying to see better, but everything seemed to shake in the waves, and the distant scenery was faint like fog...... A heavily armed elf swooped up and swooped straight through Lydia's body like a ghost.

They were harmless apparitions, they didn't exist on the same plane. The female mage felt a sudden chill, like when she was on the verge of death...... Like when she was lucky enough to escape from the clutches of death.

She bit her lower lip in exasperation.

She is no longer the fragile and powerless woman who hovers between life and death, experiencing unprecedented fear and ecstasy. She can control everything - she has to control everything.

Lydia unconsciously tightened her cloak and walked to the tallest, smoky blue spire in sight.

The illusion only lasts for a moment...... She doesn't have much time.

(To be continued......)

PS: If there is a problem with the network at home, I can only bring it back to the company and send it, and then there are a lot of things in the morning......