The stout spear struck the fisherman's flying machine unstoppably.

The golden glasses and the others were already dumbfounded, and watched the spear get closer and closer. Just as the spear was about to pierce into the outer shell of the aircraft, a transparent magical shield covered the entire aircraft.

"Bang!" With a muffled sound, the aircraft shook violently and swayed from side to side.

The fisherman struggles to get the craft back to normal, and his face becomes serious. Although the magic shield was directly applied to the flying machine that was more than ten meters long, the lizardman dragon knight broke the magic shield with just a spear throw, which made him a little secretly frightened.

The fisherman was none other than one of the five people in the Speaker's room that day. If anyone knows anything about the Magic Council, they will know that this inconspicuous "fisherman" in front of him is actually a top-level great magician. And the flying machine he piloted is also one of the five newest flying machines purchased by the Wizards' Guild at a huge cost, the Flame.

The fisherman chants a quick incantation as he manipulates the Flam, and the rod-shaped thing in his right hand is a long staff. The staff was a little unwieldy in the cramped cockpit, and the intricate inscriptions on its body lit up, and soon a magic shield was cast on the aircraft.

The others in the cabin reacted and began chanting incantations.

"Quick, attack that Wyvern, and blast that disgusting monster up there!" roared excitedly, holding on to the handle. The others didn't dare to slack off, and for a while, spells rang out, and fireballs and frost arrows shot at the two-legged wyvern on the right.

However, the crowd had not been trained in aerial combat, and the shaking of the aircraft coupled with the changes in wind speed and direction caused most of the magic cast to be inaccurate, and some fireballs even deviated from the target by hundreds of meters.

"Fool, did you buy your High Mage Badge?!" the gold-rimmed glasses shouted as they looked a little uncontrollable.

"The hatch is closed!" shouted the fisherman, turning his head and rushing to the back.

The lizardman standing on the back of the bipedal wyvern on the right picked up another spear in his hand. His unusually thick, scaly arms arched back, then jerked back. The spear looked like a high-speed flying tree trunk, and almost instantaneously slammed into the right side of the aircraft's fuselage.

This attack was even more ferocious than the last. The heavy protective armor was directly pierced, and the Flame with its spear instantly deviated from its flight path.

It took a few turns for the Flame to regain its steady, but the squeaky mechanical noise was a sign that things were not going to be good.

The glasses on the face of the gold-rimmed glasses were gone, and blood was running down his head. He looked at the blood stains on his hands, and his eyes were full of horror: "What should I do, let's make a forced landing!"

"It's too late, get ready to jump. Hopefully, you know how to control the intensity of the flotation technique. The fisherman left the bridge with both hands and pushed open the cockpit door.

The sound of the spell sounded quickly, and the staff in the fisherman's hand flashed, and the whole person had jumped out of the flying machine.

The Flame, which was already trembling, began to fall head-heavy at this time.

"Damn, this old thing!" the gold-rimmed glasses squinted their eyes and looked down, feeling the blood rushing to their heads. He didn't care about his partner, brushed his hair upward, gritted his teeth, and began to chant a spell, and soon jumped down as well.

"Take care, brother. The partner of the glasses said with some embarrassment, and then began to chant the incantation. Marshall nodded at him and began to cast the levitation spell.

Just then, there was a harsh sound of metal rubbing. Marshall stumbled forward, blood spurting from his mouth. He looked down and saw a log as thick as an arm piercing his chest, red liquid dripping from the tip of the bright red wood.

"I ......" Marshall tried to say something, but only a muffled voice came out, and blood gushed out of his mouth. He fell to his knees weakly, and his whole body accelerated with the Flame to the ground.

......

"Chirp ......"

A gentle birdsong woke Vane up, and his first thought was: it's okay, it's still alive.

Vane opened his eyes. The sky was already white, and the surroundings looked very strange, a small cave, not as big as an ordinary double room in a hotel. There was a fire next to it that had long been extinguished.

Vane remembered that he had followed Bambou to the hill to the west the previous night, and had found the cave just as he was about to lose his hold. He slowly stood up and moved, but the pain all over his body still made him shiver.

Vane's eyes searched. In one corner of the cave, a chubby white owl was standing quietly on the ground. Vane almost laughed before he could get to the front.

Bambu's eyes were closed, and he stood on the ground with a slight shaking. Its eyes were completely sunken into its round face, and it looked as if it had no eyes.

Vane was about to call it when he stumbled upon a few dead critters on the ground—rabbits, rats...... Of course, it's mostly rats. The voice that came to his lips was forcibly retracted by him, and a warm current immediately poured into his heart.

Vane picked up the song of the Red Flame on the ground and staggered out.

It is a low, piled mountain with dense vegetation but few tall trees. The mountains are roughly bordered by the sea, bordering forests at the northernmost level. The surrounding hills are gentle, and the mountain where Vane is located appears to be the tallest one.

Still shrouded in fog as far as the eye could see, Vane thought for a moment and picked up his staff and walked up the hill.

Wayne still underestimated the ruggedness of the mountain road, or overestimated his own body. By the time he reached the top of the mountain, he was so tired that it was difficult to even stand. However, he was greeted by a suffocating scene.

The fog had disappeared above the mountainside. At this time, the entire frozen wasteland was under Vane's eye, but the fog was rising and some of it was not clear.

The Frozen Wasteland is actually a larger island, with a few smaller islands looming in the distance. The fog seems to be everywhere, making one feel a suffocating despair.

The sun rises above the sea level, sending the first rays of morning sunlight through the fog. Vane lay comfortably on the ground, and it wasn't until the dew wet his skin that he realized that his clothes were in tatters.

It looks like I'm going to die alone here. Vane stared at an eagle soaring in the sky for a long time, and suddenly as if he thought of something, he sat up with his hands on the ground, rummaged through his satchel, and soon a picture appeared in his hand.

The sunny smiles of the four teenagers in the photo are still unchanged, but for some reason, the photos that claim to be waterproof have faded a little, and some places have even begun to blur.

Vane gently wiped the photo with his finger, only to find that it only made it more blurry. The hand holding the photo trembled a little, and accidentally the photo fell lightly to the ground.

Vane fell limply to the ground, silent tears sliding from the corners of his eyes. He lay motionless for a long time, until all the tears had dried up, and Vane sat up.

For Vane, giving up hope is a difficult thing to do. He has mediocre talents, but he has never given up on anything since he was a child, even if it is a temporary depression, he will regain hope. But this time, Vane felt that the weight of a thousand pounds in his heart suddenly disappeared, and his heart became empty, but at the same time, he felt more relaxed than he had ever felt before.

At this moment, the song of the Red Flame lying on the side suddenly turned red and made a buzzing sound.

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