The sheepskin scroll was very old, tattered, old-colored, dull and without a hint of luster, covered with gray stains, already showing signs of broken insect bites, and the handwriting had become mottled. The kind of circle painting, like the text of the picture scroll, seems to have a strange magic, although it looks mottled, it is still clear as new when you look closely, which makes people immersed in it at once, and it is impossible to forget, as if it has been engraved into the soul, which makes Elan and Agnes feel very surprised and obsessed when they watch.

The text on the parchment scroll, from the Salim era, is very old and difficult to decipher. Ilan's writing skills can only understand part of it, but the little princess Agnes is erudite, and after coming in with him, she has gently read it with a unique rhythm, and the magnetic voice is very pleasant, and the words on it seem to have magical power, in the trembling special pronunciation, so that the heart of the person who hears it is incomparably clear and solemn, as if listening to the voice of the gods, and as if it is a special spell that opens the door of fate:

"The earth will be stained red with blood, the flowers of death will bloom, the seeds of fate will be buried, awakened in the arms of God, when the roses of the east will bloom, the darkness of destiny will come, the dagger of weeping blood will bring blood, and the stars will guide the beacon of vengeance. O singer who guides the world, will be born in the flames. On the other side of the sea, and on the earth that sleeps beneath his feet, he will tremble and collapse, and the gods who live in the past, and the ruined courtyards of the gods, will hear his footsteps. He came for destruction, he came for rebirth, the souls of the dead sang sad songs, the tombstones of the gods resounded with eternal eulogies, the golden sun, the brilliant roses, the shadows of vengeance, the trumpets of the gods, the firm steps, until the door of fate opened......"

A low voice, stirring in the air, a peculiar melody, forming peculiar runes, and then the space fluctuated, making a trill, and the sheepskin scroll took off, as if summoned, restrained by a magical power, and began to tremble with the space, and finally could not withstand this supernatural power, and it shattered in an instant, like a fluttering butterfly, and like a broken car window, breaking inch by inch, forming a spider web, the cracks became deeper and deeper, denser and denser, and finally turned into a little star, flashing, and then extinguished, The end result was that the gray-white powder and dust disappeared out of thin air from the hut and from the sight of the three of them, as if they had never appeared.

This prophetic statement is difficult, headless, and inexplicable, but it seems to mean something, and it seems to have no trace. For the interpretation of the prophecy, the three people seem to understand it, they seem to remember it and they don't seem to remember, the content may be the same, or it may not be the same. However, in the end, these things became meaningless, because they didn't remember the words in it anyway, it seemed to be the arrangement of fate, and it seemed that there was nothing at all, after all, no one can decide the future, not even the goddess Turfona, who holds the wheel of fate.

The goddess of fate, whose name is Turfona, is said to live beside the mysterious tree of destiny all year round, gentle and beautiful, able to foresee the future, witness history, grasp the present, one with three sides, in the morning she will appear as an innocent maiden, holding a flower crown in her hand, and at noon she will turn into a proud noblewoman, drinking alcohol, and in the afternoon she will be a wise grandmother, who will only look at the world kindly.

Turfona's daily work is limited to two things, one is to take care of the tree of life, and the other is to weave the web of destiny. When she appears, she usually holds a beautiful milky white staff with a lilac light of fate, and at the top of the staff, it is said that hidden is a roulette wheel that can change fate.

However, no one has ever seen Turfona, the goddess of fate, use a roulette wheel with her own eyes, but everywhere she goes, people's fates change.

The sheepskin scroll vanished into thin air in the room, and Elan, Agnes, and Uncle Iasa could not remember what was written on the sheepskin scroll, no matter how much they thought about it, and even the sheepskin scroll was forgotten later.

In short, it never seemed to happen, and the memory seemed to be sealed by a strange and unknowable power, a magical, divine power, or perhaps the power of fate, but this power was incomprehensible to Elan and Agnes.

Maybe this is the arrangement of fate, this is beyond the understanding of mortals, and it is a taboo content, so the gods want to take it back, and it can only be explained in this way, after all, this should be an ability that only gods can master.

Uncle Iasa coughed, still muttering, his memory blanked at the thought of the parchment scroll, but when he thought of the rest, he was like a normal man: "Oh, what comes to mind, alas, look at my brain, it's so forgetful, oh, yes, except for that...... Well, by the way, the dagger, the dagger that your father left you, that's the ancestral heirloom of your family, well, it's said to come from the era of the great Salim dynasty, which witnessed the glory and decline of Salim, and it also has your family coat of arms engraved on it, oh, think about it, where did I put it? "Having lost a memory, Uncle Iasa seems to be several years older, and I don't know why, which makes Ilan sad to look at.

Uncle Iasaa muttered, rummaged through the cabinets again, and finally found the dark dagger mentioned by Uncle Iasa, and the dagger was engraved with a strange pattern, which was a miniature black rose: "Hehe, Uncle Iasa's used it for the bed legs." Now, here you go, study it, according to your father, there is a great secret hidden in it, and your family got this secret because of your father, and wanted to uncover it, and was killed, alas, poor Lord Ihora and Mother Arran. However, your father sensed the danger before he died, and asked me to take care of it in advance...... This dagger was transferred. By the time I get back, it's too late, your parents and people are dead, and I have only time to save you. The corpses and blood all over the ground are really miserable, I secretly buried them, and I had to take you away to avoid the enemy. Alas, Iasa am a disgrace to my master, and I wish I had gone earlier. However, the glory of the family cannot be dusted, even if it is to suffer the injustice of fate again, Ilan will hand it over to you now, you can do it yourself. "Iaasa hung his chest, regretful and sad, and finally solemn and holy.

Ilan's veins boiled all at once, his mind could no longer be calm, sadness, desolation, hatred, and resentment crowded his still childish shoulders, making his heart a little crazy. Subconsciously, he took the dagger handed by Uncle Iasaa with both hands. The dagger seemed to be an extension of his body, a part of him, as if he was conscious, longing to return to his body.

The young man's hand trembled, and when he took it, maybe it was careless, or maybe it was destined by fate, Ilan's fingers were bleeding, and the blood was gurgling out, but it didn't fall to the ground, and it was immediately sucked away by the dagger, it seemed to be a greedy child, like a bottomless pit, swallowing something that could be absorbed into its stomach mercilessly.

Iasa didn't know what was going on, and wanted to stop it, but found that his body couldn't move at all, and he didn't know what kind of power could make the powerful third-level professional, a powerful demon hunter with the three talents of fighting, elemental, and wild, powerless.

Agnes was even more miserable, her body was invisibly bound, and her oppressed body trembled, which made her heart bitter, watching Ilan's blood continue to be sucked into the dagger, her heart hurt terribly, as if the knife was absorbing her blood, and her eyes were full of sadness.

She forgot about the predicament at this time. She tried to shout, but found that she couldn't speak. Although she had only known Elan for a few days, Elan had a very heavy place in Agnes's heart, which made her feel like a knife and empathize.

At this time, Yilan's body had lost consciousness, as if he had fallen into a nightmare.

In the dream, he incarnated as the assassin hero Molisara, sneaking in the endless darkness, approaching the enemy and then striking suddenly, causing a fatal blow, and then killing with a fatal blow, harvesting precious souls one by one, extreme assassinations again and again, scenes of god-like operations, real memories, combat experience, countless skills, were crammed into Ilan's mind, his mind seemed to explode, the pain was unbearable, he wanted to sleep, but he couldn't help himself, he couldn't do it at all. In the endless pain, like ten thousand ants devouring the heart, Ilan replaced Molisara's body again and again with the feeling of memory, completing wonderful assassinations again and again, and the skills of each assassin were gradually mastered, and the proficiency was improved at a speed visible to the naked eye, and time seemed to stand still, as if a century had passed. Ilan felt that if he could wake up, he would be able to use these skills proficiently, even with his eyes closed.

Later, Ilan's five senses were lost, his eyes couldn't see, his ears couldn't hear, his nose couldn't smell, his tongue couldn't taste, his skin also lost his senses, in short, his body was completely out of control, even in this situation, he was able to rely on the assassin's sixth sense, his mental power to extend, and make the same movements as a normal person, or even more intelligent. In the midst of the sea of knowledge, under the teachings of the assassin hero Male Morisala, Ilan desperately perceived, and tried his best to learn, absorb, and digest these things that were poured into his mind.

The dark black dagger wriggled like a worm, devouring the blood hungryly, and the dim pattern gradually became clear, and finally a qualitative change occurred, and a black rose began to bloom, strange and beautiful.

Time passed very slowly, maybe an hour, maybe a day, when Ilan trained and mastered these skills, the sea of consciousness also began to gather waves at the same time, and the dark Yuan Force flowed invisibly from the daggers, converging into a small dagger, one, two...... There were more and more daggers, and in the end, they turned into ninety-nine small rune daggers, repelling and attracting each other, linking and combining, linking and combining each other, and finally turned into a small short dagger, like the snake teeth of a rattlesnake, emitting a faint blue brilliance.

It looks very much like the one Uncle Isassa gave him, a small dagger that was once reduced to a stepping stone, and then the runes on the dagger lit up one by one, Ling Feng Combo, Flying Spike, Backflip, Random Slash, Hunter's Mark, Concealment, Quenching Arrow, Cone Strike, Shadow Attack, Wind Walk, Afterimage Step, Insight, Dexterity, Alertness, Cunning, Violence, Forbearance, Shadowless, there are eighteen assassination skill runes, but they are extinguished after a while, after all, Ilan is still young, his strength is insufficient, and he does not have so much magic and spirit. In the end, only the runes of the two skills of Ling Feng Combo and Flying Stab were still shining, which was something that Ilan was able to use and transform.

Ilan woke up from his nightmare, he shook his right hand, and the dagger in his hand was gone.

The dagger has been integrated into the blood of Ilan, it can be said that this little short dagger is anything but ordinary, to paraphrase a very popular phrase now, it is the unity of human daggers, oh, it doesn't seem to sound good, but that's what it means.

"I'll call you Snakefang, little one." Ilan communicated with the dagger in his heart as if he were his own partner, and the dagger seemed to be conscious, albeit childish. So Ilan named it "Snake Fang", and Snake Fang seemed to be very satisfied, swimming comfortably in Ilan's veins, the tip of the snake fang, nodding slightly. Ilan couldn't help but laugh, and sure enough, he became conscious. I'm afraid it's just an artifact.