Violet Mage Tower.

The raging torrential rain fell straight down the mage tower, and a faint purple defensive circle appeared out of thin air, and the rain dripped down, bursting out countless transparent ripples.

The top tower engraved with purple veins, Craigie is no longer in the old and decrepit appearance of before, dressed in purple robes, and the azure staff in his right hand shimmers with a soft light, as if the misty mist is endlessly changing.

At this moment, in front of him, stood two guests from afar.

"Moira, I haven't seen you in a long time." Craigie's cloudy eyes stared at the right side, like an ice lotus and a quiet woman who was independent in the world, and whispered.

"Yes, teacher, after thirty years of separation, you still haven't changed." Moira bowed slightly, her pale green eyes rippling, a familiar and unfamiliar place, where she had studied for five years, and the old man in front of her was the teacher in charge of teaching her.

"Hehe, I'm old, it's your time." Craigie shook his head and looked at Moira in front of him, with a hint of apology in his tone.

"I'm sorry I didn't be there to congratulate you when you stepped into the legend and missed the event."

"The teacher said with a smile, I will be satisfied if you can send a gift." Moira knew that this teacher was tired and lazy, and if it wasn't something too important, she would never leave the Violet Mage Tower, even if she managed to step into the path of legend.

After being polite with Moira, Craigie turned his head to look at the middle-aged man who was always as majestic as a mountain, with a very ordinary face, a very ordinary temperament, and a very ordinary dress.

And if these ordinaries appear in one person at the same time, then the person will certainly be ordinary.

In fact, if it weren't for the Violet Mage Tower, maybe even he would have deliberately ignored the other party.

"Du Bois, I didn't expect the noble council to invite you over this time, is it because you haven't had a good time lately?" Craigie said jokingly, but the solemn color hidden in his cloudy eyes became more and more intense, and the famous name of the person in front of him resounded throughout the continent of Karadimos.

Dubois Gerard Clive, a legendary warrior with a penchant for food and spirits, was also a veteran gambler who lingered in the famous casinos.

"There's no way, the price of goods in the Stoke Kingdom is too expensive, and the gold shield I bring is not enough, so I have to take on a task by the way to solve the problem of the lower pocket." Du Bois rubbed his nose and stretched, the smell of wine wafting from his shirt permeating the top tower.

"However, according to the current development, it seems that Limontanlu has been infiltrated too deeply, and in just one night, five places were slaughtered and sacrificed."

Even if the warrior's perception was not too outstanding, as a legend, Du Bois still felt the change in Limontamlu, and he could smell the smell of blood in the humid air from afar.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Craigie, his heart sank slightly, judging from the calm performance of the master and apprentice, it seemed that something was brewing that he didn't know.

Truth be told, Du Bois really hates nobles and mages, they always smile at people, and then hide blades and conspiracies behind their backs, which will pop up without noticing.

"Who knows." Craigie did not answer Du Bois's question directly, but turned to stand by the guardrail, looking at Limontanlu in the storm, his cloudy gaze crossed the distance of space, silently watching the place where the scarlet blood was overflowing.

"His Majesty Lloyd's thoughts, I am inconvenient to ask, and it is not convenient to stop it, all I can do is to stabilize the situation in Limontamlu."

"So, wait, wait for the stage that continues to perform!"

The soft voice seemed to be like a cold winter wind, slightly cold Moira and Du Bois's expressions, even within the vast aristocratic council, His Majesty Lloyd's reputation was enough to intimidate, and His Majesty the Legend was no exception.

……………………

Remains!

Skinny corpses!

The cold rain fell, soaking into the luxurious buildings, and countless corpses covered the dark gray marble floor in front of them, and it seemed that the corpses had no resistance before their deaths, and all the blood in their bodies was drained, leaving only a pitiful shell.

Seeing this, Horace and Wassman's expressions moved slightly, and they each led a group of Triphali legions to disperse and advance to investigate such an unusual situation.

A faint life energy bloomed in the frontroom path, and the resolute footsteps broke through the increasingly dense rain, and each Trefali legionnaire soldier held a heavy blade and touched the corpse as stiff as a lump.

"My lord, these people should be the guests who were invited tonight, along with some guards and waiters." Horace, who had returned from the investigation, fell to his knees on one knee and let the icy rain flow down his mask, unable to extinguish the flames of revenge that were restless in his heart.

Hearing this, Modrian's brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced around at the cold and dark buildings around him, he vaguely felt that something was wrong, but he had stepped here, and there was no turning back when he opened his bow and arrows.

Slowly raised his right hand, waved gently, and the dark shadows hidden under the corners of the eaves moved rapidly, like a faint brushstroke, jumping in the night, and gradually blending into the rain curtain.

"Count Sigrid, let's go, this unusual welcome seems to have some fun." Modrian looked at the beautiful lady beside him with a slightly pale face, and said softly.

Taking a deep breath, Sigrid smiled reluctantly at Modrian, lifted the hem of her bright red dress, and walked forward with broken steps.

As for the trembling buried in her heart, she didn't show it, there was a familiar aura here, an aura that frightened her, like the terrifying power that suppressed the bloodline when she once faced the ancestor of the family.

The dim magical light illuminates the corridor, and Modrian's party is vigilant enough to move forward, passing through the quiet passages and open rooms, where scrawny corpses can be seen everywhere, with strange faces with a look of piety, and the movements of leaning over the ground are becoming more and more standard.

It's a sacrifice!

Modrian seemed to think of something, his expression changed slightly, and some ancient information about the sacrifice poured out from the depths of his memory, and the description of the bloody sacrifice matched the scene in front of him.

The so-called bloody sacrifice, also known as self-sacrifice, life sacrifice, holy sacrifice, etc., is a mode of sacrifice that all interfaces, regardless of faction, have.

Ordinary sacrifices require a certain amount of sacrifice, but blood sacrifices do not, rather their own lives and souls, at the cost of their own lives and souls, in exchange for the personal attention of a great being.

In a sense, if you are religious, even if you are just a mortal, you will be able to get the eyes of the great being to pay attention to you at some point.

And now, the situation he encountered is most likely the legendary bloody sacrifice, but it is not sure whether the sacrifice is completed or the sacrifice is in progress, in order to determine the situation, for the sake of the system task, all he can do is to continue to explore and advance into the depths of the building!