Long ago. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ

There was a brave adventurer who met a wise man in the forest - a great wise man who was already considered a legend by everyone while he was still alive.

"Mr. Winchett, I would like to ask you a question. The adventurer said.

"You ask. Winchet replied.

"What is the most precious thing?"

"Compassion. ”

"Why?"

"Sin - everywhere is full of sin, and great power cannot save it, because in sin will grow stronger as your strength grows, and only compassion can save everything and get out of that doomed end. ”

When the adventurer was thoughtful and wanted to ask again, Winchet had already disappeared like the wind.

No one ever saw Winchett Legrande again, and he and his writings, and his treasures, became something that everyone wondered about, and that everyone wanted to answer, along with his last words, of course.

At this time, Fettnay stood in the tomb of this great man.

The air was damp, but the sensation in her limbs told her that she was more like she was in an ice cellar at this time—a sharp contrast that became even more pronounced when she entered the room.

In the theory of the magician, this is a kind of [chaotic reaction], the magic in the air is no longer limited by the original rules, and falls into some kind of manic state, like a clumsy child who has been born for a while, constantly asking his parents for help, and attracting the attention of his parents in a crushing way.

Fitney was unable to use magic, so the magic disorder did not affect her much, but this very different touch would make her very uncomfortable in the long run.

But she's also good at patience.

Slowly descending the stairs, the converging patterns on Fettnay's body were still working—it had grown again three years ago, changing the skills that those patterns had brought with it, and the magic that had been drained out of it would be by her side, not just where she cast it.

Magic that is too old and irascible can affect one's mood - which is why Aesop's Forest in Rose May can be lost - magic is the culprit, and that kind of thing is not simple air, which confirms the very strange assertion that magic has life.

But this was not the time for scientific investigation, and Fitney didn't want those magic to affect her thinking.

She walked slowly down the corridor, the walls on either side of which were covered with a layer of hoarfrost that Fitney needed to brush off to see what was on the walls.

Some old frescoes - the kind that Fitney had seen before, the one that was popular in the Holy See during the time of Winchett's life - Fitney was lucky enough to try to see a fresco that showed a great woman surrounded by a fresco.

Elletia.

It's really interesting -- Winchet Legrande was a plebeian magician of his time who feared even the magicians of the Holy See, and whose tomb was full of frescoes of the papal theme - could he have hired a papal designer to help him design the cemetery, or was it that he had faith in Irontia at the end of his life?

But there may be a better answer.

Fettnay continued to walk, catching the restless magic around her with her Piercing Eyes—in fact, she was dazzled, for it was much richer than the magic outside.

And the further you go inside, the more intense this degree is.

Not without its forks, in which Fitney discerned the way and occasionally looked at the contents of the frescoes, with which he even understood several obscure portions of the Word of God.

Sand......

Fitney's footsteps stopped, and she heard—was there anyone else?

She didn't speak, her ears pricked up.

The footsteps were getting closer and closer, and it seemed that the other party was about to meet her at this fork in the road. Fitney's eyes narrowed.

Click, click......

Click.

Now is it.

Fitnair's eyes widened suddenly, she lowered her body, stepped out, and accurately judged the position of the person who had come - she drew the sword that had been hidden under the thick cloak, and as she rushed out, she swept it so hard that the scabbard of the sword fell to the knee, and the man cried out in pain and fell to the ground, and without hesitation, Fitnair drew the dagger with her other hand and put it against the man's neck.

When he saw the person clearly, Fitney's face showed a strange expression.

"Elliott—you're not dead yet, are you?" said Fitney.

"It's you! Did you deliberately attract the Black Mist!" Elliott also recognized Fitney, and he was slightly stunned before exclaiming, "Put the dagger down......"

Fettnay looked at him, "How did I do such a great deed—and if I could do it, I might become a savior?"

"How do I know if you have this power?" Elliott felt a little broken—Fitnair looked at him with a much deeper look in his eyes, for he was obviously affected by the magic here, and was very emotional, although it didn't seem to him much, "You always have this strange ability, it's weird!

Let such people go? Not to mention whether they can reach a consensus, his emotions will kill Fitney himself.

"Be quiet. Fitney said coldly, "Regulate your emotions well, do you also want to be something like a black fog ghost?"

Fitney's words calmed Elliott with her firm tone and very reasonable explanation, and his sanity triumphed—as if Fitney had spoken, and he quieted down, and his emotions seemed to have become much more normal.

"What's going on here?" After a while, Elliott seemed much more normal when he spoke again.

"I thought you'd know it well. Fitney said.

"Are you kidding me? It's not funny at all!" Elliot almost couldn't control his emotions.

"Aren't you an Arberg like Winchett?"

"If the Abbergs were omnipotent, I would have made money under this banner a long time ago, why are they hiding?" Elliot was very helpless, "The blood of the Abbergers can still make the Black Mist Ghost back down, but that's all there is to do here - my life is in your hands, why deceive you - besides, it doesn't make any sense for you to kill me at this time, but now I can help you a little, right?"

Fitnair was silent for a moment, she seemed to agree with him, and slowly withdrew the dagger.