The boy looked fondly at the yellow flowers of the sleepy ginseng sticking their heads out of the frosty soil. There are hundreds of the same flowers on this small plot of land, their bright colors incompatible with the barrenness and barrenness around them. He crouched down next to the flower and took a breath. A refreshing morning breeze and a faint scent greeted his nose. He reached out to pluck a wildflower.

"Don't touch it." Vanis said.

The older man stood above the boy's head, his blue coat swaying slightly in the breeze. Marsenno stood next to him, holding an unlit torch. The three of them had been waiting here for a long time, without waiting for any doubts.

The younger man looked down at the boy, smiled and nodded.

The boy plucked a flower and put it in his pocket.

Vanis shook his head and frowned. "You're sick with this kid."

Marsenno's face flushed with words, and the smile on his face disappeared. He cleared his throat and asked, "Did you see anything?" ”

The boy stood up and took a closer look at the rows of houses across the frost fields, a weather-beaten area of shacks scattered along the side of the hills. Shadowy figures pass in front of the cast glass window.

"There's someone inside." The boy said.

"We can see that," Vanis said angrily. "Q: Do you see what we're looking for?"

The boy searched for the faintest sign or impression. But all he saw was gray old wood and stone.

"No, sir."

Vanis cursed quietly.

"Maybe we should come closer." Marsenno said.

The older man shook his head. "These are mountain people. They will give you a spear twenty paces from the door of their house. ”

The boy shuddered at this. Even the people of Xiongdu have heard of the fierceness of the southern mountain people. They live on the untamed borders of the kingdom, close to disputed territories. He glanced to the side, little closer to Marsenno.

"Light the torch." Vanis said.

Marsenno strikes the flint, and the spark is poured on oil-soaked twine. The asphalt erupted into flames, driving away the morning chill.

They don't have to wait too long.

The doors of many huts were opened, and a dozen people, men and women, walked towards them. They carried spears and axes.

The boy's hand landed on the dagger at his side. He turned to look at Marsenno, but the man's eyes were fixed on the villagers.

"Steady, boy." Vanis said.

The crowd stopped at the edge of the field, their ragged outfits contrasting with the royal blue-and-white suits worn by Vannis and Marsenno. Even the boys' own clothes were neater than theirs.

A slight tingling sensation spread down his spine. He touched Marsenno's arm, caught his attention, and nodded. Marsenno knew what the signal meant, and motioned for him to stand back. They must follow the process.

An old woman stepped out from behind the crowd. "Have all the demon hunters set fire to the village now?" She asked.

"There's nothing here, go away!" A young man with unkempt hair shouted from beside the old woman. The others also opened their mouths, sneering and shouting.

"Quiet!" The old woman snapped and poked her elbow into the ribs of the person next to her.

The man shrank back and bowed his head. The crowd also quieted down.

This group of mountain people and the boy Zaixiong are different from anyone they have ever seen. They weren't intimidated by the Demon Seeker's usual blue coat and forged brass half-mask. On the contrary, they stand tall with their heads held high, and their faces are not afraid. Several of them fiddled with their weapons and glared at the boy. He avoided his gaze.

Marsenno takes a step forward. "Six days ago, someone sent a bucket of multi-sleeping ginseng to Lenwall." As he spoke, he gestured with his torch to the flowers on the ground.

"Someone sells things. Someone buys something. Is it different in the city? The old woman asked.

The mountain people laughed.

The boy nervously laughed along. Even Marsenno raised the corners of his mouth slightly. Vanis didn't move. He stared at the crowd, his stick in his hand.

"It's no different." Marsenno said. "But it's a rare flower this season."

"We're good at farming. Also good at hunting. The old woman's smile vanished.

Vanis stared at the old woman. "Yes, but the ground is frozen, and none of you have ever plowed it."

The old woman shrugged. "You can grow whatever you want. What can we do. ”

Vanis also smirked. "Yes, it's willing to grow." He said as he removed the ash mark from his cloak. He crouched down and held the carved stone tablet above a multi-sleeping ginseng.

The petals withered and shrivelled.

"But it shouldn't die as soon as it sees the Forbidden Stone." Vanis said and stood up. "Unless you planted it with magic."

The smiles on the faces of the villagers were gone.

"The use of magic is forbidden." Marsenno said. "We are all subjects of Demacia. Born to obey her laws—"

"Honor can't be eaten here." The old woman said.

"Even if you could, you wouldn't have to." Vanis sneered.

The insult caused a commotion in the crowd, which pressed forward, less than a few steps away from the two demon seekers.

Marceno cleared his throat and held up a hand. "The mountain people have always obeyed the morality of Demacia, guarding the laws and traditions." He said. "We just want to ask you today to keep the honor as always. Can the sick stand up? ”

No one moved, no one spoke.

After a few moments, Marsenno spoke again. "If honor can't compel you, then listen well, we have a child who can find out the sinful."

The crowd all looked at the boy. Their eyes were full of reproach, and stern whispers flowed through the crowd.

"This little beast will not be punished for using magic vividly, and will punish us specifically?" The man who had just shouted loudly asked.

The boy winced at the sound of questioning.

"He plays for Demacia." Marsenno said, turning to face the boy. "It's okay, let's get started."

He nodded, rubbed his sweaty palms against his trouser legs, and then faced the group of mountain people. Among the dusty and mottled faces, there is a particularly conspicuous and radiant existence. A crown of light pulsated and floated around the mage.

Only a boy can see this light, and it has been that way since he was born. It's his talent. This is his plague.

The rest of the villagers looked at him with disdain. It's like this everywhere. These people hated him because of his talent. Everyone—except the old woman. Her delicate eyes only begged him not to speak.

The boy hung his head and looked at the ground.

They were all waiting, and the moment was silently extended. He felt that Vanis was watching him, judging him harshly.

"It's all right," Marsenno said, putting his hand on his shoulder as a gesture of encouragement. "We are very orderly. We uphold the law. ”

The boy raised his gaze, ready to identify the mage.

"Don't say it, kid." The old woman said, shaking her head. "I will take responsibility. Did you hear that? ”

"That's enough." Vanis snapped, pushing him away and walking forward, Ash Mark in hand.

The glow around the mage dimmed briefly, and the crowd was approaching.

"Wait!"

"Quiet, boy. I've already given you a chance. ”

But the old woman was not a sick person.

The boy turned to look at Marsenno. "It's not her! It's someone else! He said, gesturing to the man with unkempt hair beside the old woman.

Marsenno's gaze turned away from the mountain people, trying to find the direction the boy was pointing. But before he could determine where the threat was coming from, the man pounced on the two demon seekers.

"Mom!" He yelled and rushed to Vanis' side. His hands glowed emerald, and thorny vines bloomed from between his fingers.

Vanis ducked and rounded his club, the heavy wooden handle striking the mage's temple with a cracking sound.

The mage crashed into Marsenno and grabbed him by the arm. Sharp thorns pierced his sleeves. Marsenno cowered in agony, then pushed the plagued man to the ground, dropping the torch in his frustration.

The tongue of fire licked the man's coat and set the rags on fire.

The old woman screamed and rushed at her son.