There was once a nobleman who was very fond of his daughter, and spent countless amounts of gold to find the best painter of the time, and painted an oil painting for his daughter, who had just turned fifteen, as a mark to record the growth of the girl.

One day, his mother died.

The nobleman rushed to his hometown to see his elderly mother's buried.

Once upon a time, the delicate and kind face in my memory has now become old, full of wrinkles, and there is no trace of the past.

After returning from the cemetery, the nobles looked at the beautiful oil painting from time to time and fell into an uncontrollable anxiety.

The lovely daughter I loved, will she become like that because of the erosion of time?

No, how can this be!

So he dug out the black book he had seized from the cultists when he was young.

According to the cultist who was tortured, the book is called "The Textbook of Black Prison City", and it is a magic book that can communicate with hell, make deals with the evil spirits in hell, and fulfill inner wishes.

On that day, he killed all the prisoners imprisoned in the underground black dungeon, and used their blood and flesh as sacrifices to awaken the magic book that had been sleeping all along.

Then, he made a wish that his daughter would never grow old, just like in the painting.

Since then, the growth of young girls has really stopped.

Time could no longer leave any mark on her face.

The nobleman was so pleased with this that he put away the textbook of the Black Prison City along with the painting—his daughter would not grow old anyway. Oil painting is also unnecessary.

The girl's inability to grow and age naturally aroused the suspicion of others, and there were endless sayings such as witches and witches, but the nobles didn't mind this, and he didn't have the slightest remorse until he died.

Although the girl is always pointed at as the object of suspicion, because of the protection of the nobility, life is not inconvenient.

A few years later, when the girl suddenly started to clean the old house handed down by her ancestors, she found a black book hidden together and an oil painting wrapped in brown paper in the attic.

When she opened the vellum outside, she was startled by the oil painting inside.

No one found out. At the same time that the girl stopped growing. But the 'she' in the painting grew up, grew old, and died.

And now in the painting, she is shown a decomposing corpse. From the corpse's battered face. I can barely see a trace of a girl......

The girl, who had some understanding of what her father was doing, immediately guessed the truth. The painting in her hand fell to the ground, and she sat down in the dusty attic.

Only now did she realize that it started that summer when she was fifteen. I'm already dead.

Then, the Black Prison City textbook turned to the page where the huge three-headed dog was drawn.

Heart-pounding evil permeated the pages, and the light swallowed by the black shadows darkened the entire attic, and a three-headed monster paced out of the black mist, its rough and hoarse voice blasting the girl's eardrum like thunder.

"Eternal worth is far greater than you think."

"I'll collect what your father owes back then,"

"Your body, your soul, and everything, I take it."

With that, the monster swallowed the girl in one gulp......

It didn't take long for the great war that ended the age of mythology to break out suddenly.

-- Dividing line --

"Woo......" Helo slowly opened her eyes and shook her dizzy head: "I had a boring dream." ”

Then she found herself in a very rudimentary tent made of branches and leaves, lying on a rudimentary chuang covered with leaves, covered with a shabby linen quilt.

"Hey, are you awake?"

At this time, a young man holding a stack of leaves walked slowly from not far away.

"Where is this, boy?"

Harrow lifted the sackcloth and quickly stood up, patting off the leaves that hung from her body.

"The frontier of Cankite, the periphery of the Silent Forest."

Clayson replied, probably to prevent the girl from being confused, and specially added: "Across the river from here is the famous Duchy of Latuc." ”

It's a pity that this is obviously playing the harp to the cow, and Helo still hasn't even figured out how many empires there are in the Eastern Plains, let alone the principalities......

"You helped the concubine, right? Thank you first, if you have the chance, the concubine will repay you. ”

After closing her eyes and feeling the message from the body, confirming that the contract was still there, and indicating that Sivi was not dead, she planned to meet up with the students of Adric Academy first.

"But aren't you wounded?"

The young man stammered, "My house is not far from here, you can go and recuperate for a while......"

"No need, boy." Helo shook his head, put the hood back on, covered the pair of dog ears and refused: "The existence of a concubine is not a good thing for ordinary people, and if you stay with a concubine casually, it may cause unnecessary disasters." ”

After all, Cerberus was originally a kind of conquest of natural disasters, and even in hell, an existence of the level of a three-headed dog was not a mascot.

For this reason, Harrow didn't even plan to ask the other party's name.

As for injuries or something, originally Heluo was just a clone, as long as there was a continuous supply of force from the body, no matter how serious the injury was, it could recover and heal in a short time.

This time it was really a capsized boat in the gutter, the clone of the dignified Cerberus plus a great magician was actually beaten by a goblin, and even if it wasn't for the mage alarm of Sivi, he subconsciously launched a defense when the other party sneaked attacked, I'm afraid that a face of Helo would have to kneel......

This is a great shame for the arrogant Herlo who is a clone of Cerberus, if it weren't for the fact that she couldn't come forward, I'm afraid she would have beaten that goblin with her body.

"But, but, ......" Claison glanced at Harrow, his face flushed, as if he wanted to say something.

It was at this moment that the ears inside Harrow's hood twitched.

She pointed to the southwest and asked Claesson, "Is the village you said about in this direction?" ”

The boy blinked, and nodded busily.

"Sure enough."

Harrow raised her pointed chin and squinted her eyes to look at the southwest, which was obscured by the trees, where there was an inexplicable magic fluctuation, although there was no way to know its nature, but Harrow subconsciously felt that the fluctuation was a bit like magic in hell.

On the main material plane, the fluctuations of hell's magic undoubtedly represent something not so good that is happening.

"It seems that the favor owed to you will be repaid soon." (To be continued......)