As if he hadn't heard Luciana, Brochette turned his back, sat down at his desk, and threw the letter from Quegfin into a drawer. Luciana noticed that in the corner of her desk were three academic rings, each of which was covered with polished white stone beads. Brochette pulled out a quill pen, spread out a piece of parchment paper on the desk, and dipped the barrel into the inkwell, and when he pulled it out, a few drops of ink were thrown out of the tip of the pen and fell onto the top academic ring, and a few stone beads were immediately stained with a few stars of ink. Brochette glanced at it in distress, but did nothing else, and began drafting Luciana's admission papers. There was silence in the room for a moment, except for the rustle of quills walking on parchment. Time slipped helplessly and awkwardly in the silent void.

Luciana rubbed her brow lightly with her fingers, and a hint of dissatisfaction flashed in her eyes. She stood beside Brochette and cleared her throat: "In January 346 of the Pande calendar, at the end of the Second Battle of the Dragon and Lion, the Omenwolf invaded the northern realm and besieged Poimbru. In February of the same year, Gregory IV, who was preparing to launch a counteroffensive, hastily negotiated peace with Ulrike V. Duke Alexis, who had approached Marions, was forced to lead his army back from the Gato steppe to the aid of Poinbru, and finally routed the raiding army of the Misty Mountains below the city. The Omenwolf was killed by the Dragon Knights' Captain, Lista, and died by heart. As a result of this battle, Lista was revered as the 'Red Hand', and it is said that when he was out of anger, his right hand would become swollen with blood. ”

Brochette remained indifferent, but he did not know when he stopped writing, and the nib of the pen hovered unconsciously over the parchment, no longer falling. Lucianna was heartbroken, and simply explained her speculation and speculation: "The Omenwolf claims to be the messenger of the mountain god Vijovis, and once he is born, the Misty Mountain tribes that were originally constantly fighting will immediately integrate into a strict and orderly collective. According to your previous description of Madigan, divinity is inciting and cohesive, so to a certain extent, it can be confirmed that the Omenwolf does have a considerable degree of divinity. And Lista was only a quasi-first-class warrior with great courage three or four or six years ago; However, after three, four, or six years, his personal strength has obviously improved by leaps and bounds. The most emblematic example – and the only one that can be documented – is that in 350, Livingston was bogged down in war with Sarion and Fieldwee. Marquis 'Fork Hu' Airy made a surprise attack on Frost Hill, and the assault party besieging the city was led by Hercules. However, the only two super-first-class warriors in the north, 'Fierce Dog' and 'Iron Bear', are fighting with the Sarion army in the Mendelssohn mountain range, and they have no time to think about anything else. It stands to reason that no one could have prevented the fall of Fort Dragonguard, but the result of that battle was the defeat of Ironoak by the Marquis of Airy, and Hercules did not appear on Fieldsway's front line for three months. Luciana stared at the quill, a large drop of rich ink crumbling on the nib, "It was Lista who was guarding the Dragonguard at the time. He hadn't even taken the title of a super-first-class martial artist, but he had broken Pande's iron law of checks and balances. In addition to a super-first-class martial artist, what else can counterbalance another super-first-class martial artist? ”

"The ultimate inference is that it is likely that Lista passively inherited a certain amount of divine power from the Omenwolf he killed, and used it while guarding the Dragon Guard Fortress to suppress or seriously injure Hercules. But he shouldn't be able to use it too often, otherwise he should be more active on the battlefield. ”

"Pop", the ink falls from the tip of the pen and splatters on the parchment. Brochette put down his pen and stared for a long time at the dark flower that bloomed between the letters: "Back then, when the raiding army was defeated, I thought it was a big deal and it was best to keep it a secret. But no one listened to me, and everyone wanted to lift Lista up to the sky. Thanks to them," he let out a muffled sneer from his long beard, "I had to revise the forthcoming edition of Pan Dezhi that year, in order to help them spread the unaesthetic nickname 'Red Hand' across the continent. He sighed and turned to face Luciana, "Archon Justus has a daughter of yours, I don't know if it was the blessing or curse of the goddess of creation. ”

"Hey, Dean, can you just compliment me once?" Luciana protested, "Am I completely correct in my reasoning? ”

Brochette sighed murkyly: "It basically coincides with the theological system we have established so far. You're right, divinity has incitement and cohesion, and divine power can easily crush any super-first-class martial artist today. As Lista pulled his right hand from the Omenwolf's chest, a portion of the divinity and divine power from Vijovius was parasitic on it. ”

"The divine powers strengthen him, and the divinity assimilates him?" Luciana was quick to respond.

"Not bad at all." Brochette glanced at Luciana appreciatively, anyway, he couldn't hide it anymore, he simply let go completely, and threw the so-called secrets out of the thunder pool of scruples. "Every time he used the divine power from Vijovis, he had to face the erosion of his divinity. The year 350 was the most serious and dangerous, and he was almost completely assimilated. Alexis followed the advice of several theological scholars at the Royal College, including me, and locked him up at the altar in Ulville for three days and three nights before recovering. ”

"What is the result of being completely eroded?"

"I don't know," Brochette leaned back in his chair wearily, rubbing his temples as he recalled, "presumably the Captain of the Dragon Knights becoming the new Omenwolf of the New Generation." By the way," he said, crumpling the parchment on his desk, glaring at Luciana, "these things are confined to theological scholars. ”

"Understood, I'm going to keep my mouth shut!" Luciana swore by it.

"Tight-lipped as a bottle?" Brochette stretched out his hand and flicked Luciana's head lightly, "You just introduced me to a felon, who is wanted by the Empire and Sarion, and told me that he is the Child of Prophecy, is this also a tight-lipped mouth?" ”

"He didn't ask me to keep it a secret!" Luciana clutched her forehead, her slender eyebrows wrinkled together in pain. Brochette's hand was not strong, but it was skillful, as if it was a percussion of the pain nerve through the skull. Hot and moist fluid unconsciously poured out around her eye sockets. Luciana looked at Broschette with tears in her eyes, "It doesn't have to be like this, right, Dean?" ”

Brochette snorted: "Don't pull the old man's beard in the future." He pulled open the drawer and grabbed another piece of parchment, ready to redraft Luciana's admission papers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the envelope lying in the corner, and suddenly recalled the message that Rietedran had brought him, originally spoken in the non-standard Pande's lingua franca, but he spontaneously filtered it into a quagfin accent of the Central Plains: "Winter, it's finally coming to an end." ”

"Son of Prophecy...... Kuigfen, how much did you and the old drunkard hide from me? ”

……

Eshu walked down the street, covering his mouth tightly, the raging air rushing up his throat with a warm liquid, breaking through the seal of his lips and pouring out through his fingers. Eshua bent down in pain, leaning against the gray-white wall, slowly and laboriously removing his hand.

There is a large shocking red in the palm of the palm, and there is a bright and delicate blue in the center, and the arc is like a girl's tactful eyebrows. Eshua stared at his palms in a daze, and the air and liquid surged up again, this time he was no longer able to block it, and coughed violently, and the blue and red blood splattered on the gray-white snow. Eshua shuddered hard, the cold that he had once felt unaware of was now like a thousand needles piercing his skin, penetrating deep into his bone marrow, blocking his perception of his limbs.

"Blue Star", a highly toxic gift from "Gray Wolf" Samael, Esher's strong physical fitness helped him suppress the violent toxicity, but the toxins accumulated in all corners of the body through blood circulation, and then converged in the heart again over time, completing the second outbreak, which was not fatal, but temporarily destroyed Esher's physique.

Gotta get back to the station quickly! Eshu ran down the street, and with each step he could feel the pain ringing through his body like a bell, spreading destructive ripples, and his tendons and nerves were almost torn. A warm current rose from the depths of the pain, enveloping the five internal organs, and lighting a raging flame on it. Esso's body is an ice cave on the outside, but it is like a boiling volcano on the inside. Every step after that he was tormented by fire and ice. Even so, his consciousness remained horribly lucid - horribly sober because it was sober. He could feel all the details of his body being cut by pain.

Eshua finally managed to make it back to the camp, but a human wall blocked his way in front of the square at the main entrance. In Estheu's blurred vision, the shadowy black figure swayed and made a noisy discussion.

"Boss!" A black figure scrambled out and greeted Essho. He could hear it as Salaman's voice, with a little apprehension and a little relief. "What's going on?" He struggled to stabilize his voice, only to find that his voice was hoarse and muffled.

"Kisia is fighting with that lieutenant! The prefect of the city is acting as a notary for them! ”