Greid's words alerted Christie, and she raised her hand, and the spells quickly converged and were released, forming a transparent barrier in an orderly line to fend off the spells from her enemies - and when she looked up, she saw the person approaching - someone she knew all too well. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

"Xilei?" Christie's eyes widened in surprise, and then her eyelashes fluttered, and the surprise flickered away, replaced by a sarcastic smile.

Ceret walked slowly towards Christie, a face that had never been expressionless, now full of anger, as if she was staring at Christie as if she was going to swallow her in one gulp.

"Fresson took the Rebol from your body - it's a shame that you've always been a weakling, and you're only a little stronger than the average person without Reebol. What can you do now?" Christie didn't fear her by the look on her face—she had always been her doll, even if it was out of her control.

"Shut up!" said Shiree coldly, stopping her from continuing.

Her anger, her helplessness, her anguish all came from the woman who had treated her like a doll - she had been waiting for the day when she had been freed from Rebal's torment, waiting for the day when she would be killed with her own hands.

She wants revenge, isn't this result easy to understand?!

Hiret raised her hand, and the puppets came from behind her, their movements sluggish, each with a Christie's face and a dull expression - they resembled an army of the dead due to Hire's talent for making puppets. It can make people feel fear subconsciously.

"Celery, are you right to take revenge like this? You keep saying that my way is evil, but what about you? You have deceived your savior. Christie took a step back, frowning slightly, for she had never seen anything like this made by Hilley.

"I can do whatever it takes, and most importantly I am not afraid of you!—Christie, I've been waiting for this day for a long time!" said Silly coldly.

Grede looked at all this, he was not a kind helper at this time, but a cold-eyed bystander, and he looked at this picture with no waves in his heart.

The battle between Christie and Sheelly is brutal, with one bent on killing the other and the other desperate for survival.

===================================

Follett was taken by the big-nosed old man all the way to Fresen's White Tower, which he had only visited once—when Sharon was with him, and no matter what Sharon said, the wise elder didn't say much to them.

Now, Follett had some doubts that Freison had known their origins in the early days.

"Where did Fresson go?" the big-nosed old man led Follett to the second floor of the White Tower, not the headmaster's room, and Follett couldn't help but ask as he looked at the stone door when it opened, revealing the hollow space inside.

"Willundon has always been discredited with Starlight, who are recluses, who believe that they are the only ones who can save the world, but who do not want these things to be noticed, despite their reputation among adventurers, hypocrisy. The big-nosed old man seemed to be talking about something unrelated, but Follett gradually heard something, "Willronton will give the civilian magician the title of Sage, as the operator of that institution, the Legrande family died not long ago, and Fresson, as the last person in that family, that old thing is going back to Willundon to take charge of the overall situation." ”

Follett was stunned: "Then Starlight ......"

Xinghui is theoretically not managed by professors, and in many ways it shows the disadvantages of lack of management, but it needs Fresen, or rather structurally, it cannot lack the position of principal.

"It was supposed to be inherited by Letta, but ...... Who knows if she'll be able to come back?" said the big-nosed old man with a sarcastic smile, "where she was wounded, she must have died." It was inevitable for her. ”

"Professor Letta?" Follett only knew that she was a professor at Fitney.

"She's a lot like a lot of nobles who betrayed Luther—I don't think there would be any exceptions. Look at it, it has nothing to do with me anyway. "But even without Freison and Letta, the school may not have been able to exist in this state for a while longer—in a devastating way." ”

"What does that mean?"

"Boy, you've talked too much!come with me!" the big-nosed old man refused to give any further explanation, and he led Follett "down"—Follett did think they were going down in the dark room.

The big-nosed old man stopped suddenly, snapped his fingers out of thin air, and flames rose from the brazier, illuminating the surroundings - the stone-stacked staircase went downward.

"Gurret's sorcery education was from the Kingdom of Luther, and those old doctrines believed that the power of the wall rested on the things of faith, so it was decided to destroy the statues in the square and weaken the gray wall, which was really inferior to the Duchy of Ansendil. As he walked, the big-nosed old man spoke.

"Is this the root of the Grey Wall?" Follett had heard about last year's Golden Lantern Festival.

"You're still a little smart. The big-nosed old man's words left Follett speechless, "This is the most critical secret of Starlight that is being manipulated here, and it has taken me more than ten years to crack this place!"

"Why?"

The big-nosed old man did not speak again, and they went down until they felt a glimmer of light at the end—the light was as weak as the one on the stairs, but the light was a strange blue.

Follett suppressed his intense curiosity and did not hasten his pace, and the process felt very long to him—at last, he and the big-nosed old man stepped into the room—there was only one side......

Mirror.

The mirror with a blue glow, the frame of which is beautifully patterned with a simple copper surface, and the mirror surface resembles the surface of a lake, Faulette was attracted to this special material and stared at such a thing intently.

"What is this?" Follett asked, turning to the big-nosed old man.

"Memorize this spell and you'll only have an hourglass of time. The big-nosed old man took an hourglass and a scroll from his body, and threw them at Follett, and then he patted his old dusty robe, and Follett saw that there were many wounds on his outstretched hands, but he could not tell what kind of wounds they were from the scars alone.

In fact, Follett knew what the big-nosed old man was hurting about.

Follett only looked at the big-nosed old man for a moment before turning his attention to the hourglass and scroll in his hand—the edges of the scroll were not only fluffed, but also worn out in large parts, as if it had been hidden in one place for hundreds of years, so fragile that it seemed to tear it apart with the movement of a wrist.

Follett read the spell carefully as the big-nosed old man said.