What is the reason for this? I tried to use my reason, trying to let reason prevail over the tension in my heart. All I experienced was the odd surroundings, the heat rising from the cracks in the floors and corners, and the oppressive combination of old furniture.

But the results don't seem to be significant. I got up from my desk and gave up on that stupid game altogether. Why does a monastery give me such feelings? What is hidden underground? At last, I began to feel terrified, I was in the middle of the darkness, and the tense nerves magnified my senses to the extreme, and a low, indiscernible strange sound came out of the void with a strange rhythm, and made me almost crazy.

At this moment, I suddenly heard faint footsteps coming from outside, followed by a faint but increasingly visible light. Someone went upstairs with a lamp. I was secretly worried about whether the comer was friend or foe, but the familiar sound that followed finally put me at ease.

"Cloud, are you here?" Tuttle's footsteps drew closer and closer, and finally his figure appeared in front of the study, carrying a lantern, "I heard that you were in the Potions Workshop, so I hurried over. ”

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't make a sound. All the thoughts I had had seemed to have disappeared all at once, and I felt a blank in my thoughts. What the hell is wrong with me? I contemplated inwardly, there was nothing abnormal about the "Void Primordial Stone", the spirit was condensed and mellow, as if those unspeakable negative emotions were just dreamy bubbles.

"It's really not a good place to stay. Let's go down first. ”

So I followed Tuttle down to the first floor. The warrior monk explained to me that the building was a place for refining some special medicines, especially the underground part, which cultivated very valuable fungi. The fungi and herbs had different properties, and the scents they emitted were intertwined and reacted with each other, which was a great burden for those who entered the workshop. And the black-robed man I met earlier was the caretaker of the Potions Workshop. This statement is convincing.

Then Tuttle and I left the dark, damp Potions Workshop.

After seeing the sky again and getting some fresh air, I felt a lot more comfortable. Dark clouds descended from the canopy, almost pressing on the black spires of the Gothic towers of the abbey. In less than two hours, the high altitude gale had already spurred heavy black clouds to arrive, and it looked like a storm was coming.

In such bad weather, it is not wise to climb over these steep mountains, even with extraordinary skills. So, having decided that I would not leave today, I said goodbye to Tattle beside me, and then returned to the place where the monks lived, and after preparing the new spell, I left the dream realm and returned to my deity.

On December 17th, even though I knew that tomorrow was the final exam, I still chose to enter the dream world when I fell asleep at night. Through the windows and curtains, the roar of the storm reached the ears, and in the intervals of lightning and storms, an eerie, uneasy muffled sound rang out from time to time. I went to the window, closed the curtains, and pushed the window open, only to see the rolling clouds accumulating and colliding with each other, and the pouring rain enveloped the whole monastery like some kind of stagnant gel. Gusts of wind poured into the room, tearing the curtains on both sides.

I quickly closed the window. It would probably not be possible to leave for the priest's monastery today, but this time I put my textbook and class notes in my pocket before going to sleep, so I don't think it's a pity, and it's a good idea to take this opportunity to prepare for tomorrow's exam.

Minutes and seconds passed. After reviewing the materials a few times and sorting out the notes of the dreamscape, I found that there was nothing left to do in this simple and cramped room. So I got up and went out and paced back and forth in the dark hallway a few times, when I suddenly noticed a dim light illuminating the staircase not far away. Then, a tall, thin figure appeared in my sight.

It was the cold, mean middle-aged man. Earlier, from Tattle, I learned his name, Abelard, a newly converted monk who had joined the monastery. Despite the monastery's strict prohibition of private conflicts between the monks, and the abbot should decide if there was a conflict, I could see that Mr. Abelard did not seem to be welcome in the monastery.

But at this time, Abelard's face was very unpleasant. In the light of the lantern, his wrinkled face was a bloodless pale one, and drops of water slipped from the brim of his wet cloak and from his thin yellow hair, making his already lifeless image a little terrifying. I was taken aback.

"Are you alright?"

Abelard did not respond to my greetings. His bloodshot eyes were filled with fear, and his gestures revealed an irrepressible hysteria. He stumbled into his room, not even looking back to close the old wooden door.

Out of concern and basic empathy, I quietly followed him to the door.

I saw this middle-aged man who was not in a normal state rudely ripped open the curtain and pushed the window open. Suddenly, a strong wind mixed with torrential rain poured into the house, and the blinding white light of lightning illuminated the scene outside the window, followed by thunder that exploded in the distant sky. Abelard was half-kneeling against the wall, his hands covering his face, his thin body trembling.

"Below...... Call...... No, Nutz-Kambul have mercy......! ......Shh That...... That's blasphemy! No, I can't stand it...... I can't afford ......"

The poor creature was panting heavily, almost fainting. I hesitated for a moment, then walked up to him, put my hand on his shoulders, and injected the two peaceful True Qi into his body—this new hermit was not a cultivator, so I didn't have to worry about the power in him that would conflict with True Qi. My help calmed him down a little, and he let go of his hands covering his cheeks, gave me a strange look, and whispered:

"You...... Let's go, let's go, here...... Uh-huh......"

Abelard suddenly clutched his head and jerked violently. I looked sideways to see Tuttle and a few other black-robed hermits quietly appearing in the doorway. A gleam flashed in the monk's eyes, and he nodded at me before striding into the room.

"Abelard's hysteria has flareed up again. Hurry up, Abel, Fabian, we need to get him to Master Abner and Rennes. ”

Tuttle put his hands under Abelard's armpits, lifted him up from the ground, and handed him to the two hermits to help him out of the room.