Before sending someone to ask for Ed, Stobel didn't do nothing.

Since handing over the keys to the Tower of the Supreme to Stobel, the old mage has refused to return to the Tower of the Tower, nor has he been accompanied by anyone. But at Fernand's insistence, at least the mages who were in charge of managing and guarding the Mithril Hall were able to stay here - far from the old mage, of course.

Neither the Mithril Hall's tight magical protection, nor any of the mages in it, found the slightest sign of an enemy invasion as Verona fell. If it weren't for the last words of the old mage and the look on his face, anyone would have thought he was a "normal" death—especially after he himself said more than once in public that he was "going to die at any moment".

“...... Are you sure there's no inner ghost?" Ed asked in a whisper after a moment's thought.

Stobel shook his head. It's not that they hadn't thought of this, but ......

"With the character of the master of Verona, at that time, since he can still say a word, if the problem is the person here, he will say it directly. ”

He'd already searched the entire Mithril Hall with Fernand, and the only thing he found was a gift from the temple of Dickor, the god of business travel, with a strange change.

The Temple of the God of Merchant Travel is no less powerful in Neo City than the Temple of the Water God in the past, and the gifts given when the Archmage Tower was built are also quite ...... Ostentatious. It was a bouquet of flowers carved and set with various gemstones, in an equally ornate vase, but the magic attached to it was speechlessly meaningful and useless—the gift known as the "miracle flower" that could sense the "blessings of God" with great acuteness.

“...... What do you mean?" said Ed, looking blank.

"Meaning, when you pray to the gods and are answered, these flowers will turn their heads to you like sunflowers......" Stormel paused before he could barely get the last word out of his mouth: "Smile." ”

Ed closed his lips tightly, trying hard not to laugh. However, when he could tell the direction facing the overly luxurious and brilliant "flowers", he really couldn't laugh.

The lifeless flowers, neatly facing Verona.

It's a weird and eerie situation...... Fortunately, they don't really "smile" at least.

Verona, of course, would not pray to any god - an old mage who dared to use necromancy on himself had long since lost his awe and expectation of the gods. Ten thousand steps back, even if he really prayed silently involuntarily in the fear of death and the fear that his soul might fall into hell, he should never have that expression when he "got a response".

His soul was forcibly taken away by some force.

“...... Can I cast a blessing spell here?" Ed asked.

After getting permission, he deliberately changed his position. That simple spell caused the bouquet to change direction in an instant, shimmering at him and waving in the wind, the expensive gems making a rustling sound as they rubbed against each other, sounding like grinding teeth...... They didn't look like "smiling flowers" at all, but more like the flesh-devouring otherworldly plants that Ed had stolen from the battlemages in the Branti Library, and they only pounced on him, opening their mouths to bite out their blood.

Ed silently took a step back, his scalp tingling. It wasn't until the flowers stopped showing their teeth and claws that he spoke in a stiff tone: "...... It doesn't seem to be bad?"

Stormbell chuckled and cast a lightfire, and the flowers didn't respond.

"It's not bad. He said, inexplicably a little regretful.

"So......" Ed took a breath, "could it be a priest?"

Stobel's calm eyes told him that they had the same suspicions—what other priest of the gods would use this kind of magic that was more like necromancy?

"And, not your average priest......" Ed muttered.

The average priest can't deal with Verona...... Even if he was dead, even if his soul was already fragile, it was a powerful mage who had occupied the Tower of the Supreme for decades, and he would not allow his soul to be easily controlled.

"I think I should be able to find him. Ed whispered, "But I might need a little ...... Material. ”

.

To the north of the city of Neo, the craggy peaks are thin and high, like sharp blades piercing the sky. Beneath the peaks, to the north is the dense forests of Grivar, to the south is the city of freedom, where the grey-black peaks are bare, without a trace of greenery.

The barren mountains cut off the city of Neo from the elves, which is not a bad thing for Neo today, after all, if you want to do business, it is enough to have a connection to the Visa. However, a long time ago, when Neo had not yet become a prosperous port, the people living in the barren fishing villages did not think of sneaking over the mountains and stealing a little wealth in the rich forests of the elves.

Today, the hidden path has long been deserted, and even the elves have given up patrolling the foot of the mountain. In the valley that has been uninhabited for a long time, a little smoke rises.

The smoke was so thin that it was difficult for even elves to distinguish in the morning mist, but it was not without traces in the eyes of those who were looking for it.

In the middle of the valley, in the shadow of strangely shaped rocks, a warrior looked up vigilantly. He felt as if a shadow had slipped out of the corner of his eye...... It was supposed to be just the bird flying over his head.

A few steps away, the short-haired elf moved his fingers and pushed the short knife that had fallen into his palm back into the holster that was clinging to his arm. The instinct has long been a desire to kill—only death is the quietest.

He stood quietly, squeezing that little urge back into his heart, looking for an opportunity to move on.

Nearly a hundred years of rigorous training allowed him to easily override human guards, and even some magic could hardly catch his tracks, but he was still very careful...... He knew exactly what kind of enemy he was facing.

The road in front of you is steep and steep downward. The gravel steps had long since been damaged, and the stone walls on both sides were pressed heavily, so narrow that only one person could walk sideways.

The elf paused, narrowed slightly, and looked up at the rocks above—in his eyes, there was more to the road than one walked one.

However, as he clinged to the rocks and silently moved upwards, a breeze swept towards the back of his neck.

When the blade touched his skin, the elf twisted sideways before he could strike, avoiding the almost untraceable blow. A thread of blood slowly flowed down his neck, but the tension of escaping death was far less than the panic in his heart.

He saw the faces of his enemies...... A face that at first glance looked almost identical to his, with black tattoos snaking like thorns, obscuring pale skin and delicate features.

That's his kind...... That's another shadow dancer.

Sogou reading website: