"I'm sorry, Your Excellency, because you didn't arrive at the allotted time, and we haven't received any notice here, so we've already rented your reserved Level 1 Spell Training Room to someone else. Pen Fun Pavilion www.biquge.info"

The front desk lady said nervously, her head bowed as if she had done something wrong.

In fact, she did not make any mistakes in this matter.

"Did you rent it to someone else? Who's that person?"

The tall man in the robe asked.

Both his tone and his own temperament give people a full sense of oppression, and the counter lady opposite is like a chick shivering in front of an eagle in front of him.

"I don't know who it is, because the customers of the first-level spell training room don't need to fill in the user information, but judging by his height and voice, he should be a teenager or a girl, and it is very likely that he is an apprentice of the Ceylon Academy. ”

The counter lady expressed her speculation.

I have to say that although she looked frightened in front of the tall robed guest, the judgment and eye of the front desk lady were quite accurate, and her guesses were actually close to the real truth.

"Boy, possibly an apprentice in Ceylon?"

The robed guest whispered to himself, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

"Take me there, I want to meet him. ”

The robed guest instructed the front desk lady.

The front desk lady didn't seem to dare to disobey the other party's orders, and she stepped out from behind the counter to lead the way for the robed guest.

The people in the hall watched them, and when they saw them coming, the mages would even take the initiative to make way for them.

The two men walked one after the other until they came to a steel-gray gate carved with plants and bouquets, and the receptionist stopped and said to the robed guest:

"This is it. ”

Obviously, the steel-gray door was very soundproof, and the two of them could barely hear the sound coming from inside while standing in the doorway.

"Please let me. ”

The robed guest said to the front desk lady standing at the door, perhaps the most gentlemanly thing he had ever said to her.

After the front lady walked away with a flushed face, the robed guest took a few steps and walked directly to the door, raised his hand on the door and whispered a spell.

The steel-gray door opened at hand.

The robed guest walked in.

In the Bresson Level 1 Spell Training Room, no one noticed the uninvited guest who suddenly entered, because neither the door opened nor he walked in was so silent.

As soon as the robed guest walked in, he was attracted by the scene in the training room, a man in a cloak was standing in the center of the spell training room, chanting a spell, and the robed guest knew the name of the spell as soon as he heard it.

Arrows of Serrell.

This kind of spell named after the creator is often a relatively recent spell, in the era before the explosion of human spells, the status of the caster is not very high, and it is often used as a special ranged class in real war, and since humans understand their own characteristics and begin to transform the magic they learned from demons and use human creativity to continuously create new magic, which is the so-called magic explosion, magic has gradually become the most powerful power in the hands of humans, and magicians have also changed from an ordinary ranged class to the holder of state authority and strategic weapons。

But lately the magicians have been losing their power.

The robed guest sighed inwardly.

Of course, it is not for nothing that just seeing a spell will have so many associations in my heart, in fact, this arrow named Serrell happens to be a spell created by the grandfather of the robed guest.

It was precisely because he was so familiar with this spell that he only listened to the first sentence, and the robed guest's brows furrowed.

The spell is wrong.

The robed guest has a clear memory and special affection for the spells created by his grandfather, and the spell he recited is not only different from the standard Cerrell Arrow, nor does it conform to any variant or arcane version of the Cyrell's Arrow that the Robed Guest knows.

Hearing a man chanting a spell created by his grandfather in the wrong way was an unbearable blasphemy for the robed guest, he almost immediately stepped forward to interrupt him.

But in the end he endured it, because he had a question in his mind.

The other party is experimenting with this spell in the first-level spell training room now, it is very likely that he himself does not have much confidence and confidence in this spell, and under what circumstances will a person not have much confidence and confidence in his own spell? In fact, it is nothing more than two possibilities, the first is that the other party is practicing a spell, and the other is that the other party is trying to create a spell.

This is a first-level spell training room, and it is very likely that the other party is really creating a variant spell of Cerrell's Arrow.

It was precisely because of this possibility that the robed guest pressed his impulse.

The time for the robed guest to arrive was just in time for El to recite the Cyrell's Arrow spell for the third time, and as El's last spell verse ended, the white light quickly converged in his hands.

The Arrow of Cyrell is a powerful three-ring spell that uses the energy of the surrounding light to hold in your hand and then project it, so this spell is also known as the Arrow of Light.

Soon, the light in Al's hand was blindingly white, and the approximate shape was like a relatively short arrow.

Under normal circumstances, this is the completed form of the Cerel Arrow, which can already be projected, but the arrow of light in El's hand has no intention of stopping at all, it still continues to shine!

Is it really a mutant spell?!

Even the robed guest was a little excited.

No one came to answer the robed guest's doubts, and the others in the spell training room watched El cast the spell with all their attention, and the arrows of light became more and more commanding, and the surrounding light became more and more dim, because the arrows of light took away all the light around them.

Like lightning piercing the night, arrows of light burst out of their hands.

It was as if a sharp blade had been inserted into butter, and the target of Cyrell's arrow, a dummy in ordinary steel armor, was taken to the bright arrow of light and shot into the chest, and then out of the chest, but it stood still in place the whole time, and if it weren't for the obvious hole in the steel armor in the dummy's chest, it would have been as if nothing had happened. (To be continued.) )