"Does that wooden boat really work?" This time it was Gawain who asked the question, who had always liked to look more seriously into Affleck's eyes. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

"Vignette didn't lie to them. Because the wooden boat did carry them up to the reef. But the reef on the edge of the reef was like a sword stuck upside down in the sea, and the wooden boat was cut to pieces, and there was no way back for them. Affleck replied earnestly.

"Everyone's alright!"

Tariq's voice cut through the wind and waves, becoming a little ethereal. One by one, their companions emerged from the water, and the jagged reef cut through their cloaks and cut some wounds, but the blood was soon washed away by the rain and sea, and each stared solemnly at the dark shadow before them.

Above the reef, the surging tide crashes against an obsidian-like pier. There is an equally black road on the pier, and this road leads to the white temple on the top floor of the reef.

There were two rows of lampposts on both sides of the black stone road, and the purple nether flames suddenly lit up in the lampposts at this moment, and everything seemed so strange and silent.

Sivir pulled the ball out of his bosom, and the white ball spun rapidly. The splash was thrown away in an arc, the ticking sound turned into a soft whistling, and the ball was suspended in the air as if by magic, swaying like the ghostly flames on the shore.

"Let's hurry up, I feel like the ball is out of control."

Vignette turned his head to look at Sivir. The rain soaked her clothes, and her beautiful and toned figure was in full view. But the Dark Horn's gaze finally fell on her hand. In the darkness of the rain, the criss-crossed blades she held in her hands shimmered with cold light, as if they could tear through the rain curtain. Darkhorn knew how powerful the weapon was in her hands, and he had seen Sivir throw it like a boomerang, cutting off the heads of four enemies at once.

"Be careful." Tariq reminded in a low voice, and his companions drew their weapons, hunched over, and climbed towards the temple with dexterity and silence like cats.

"These ...... It's all obsidian. Suddenly, one of the companions exclaimed.

Sivir looked down, she pulled out a sharp small dagger and slashed it on the stone steps, and then couldn't help but marvel.

As his companion had said, the entire staircase leading to the temple was made of obsidian. Obsidian is unusually hard and can usually only be cut with magic. Moreover, in the Land of Runeterra, obsidian is scarce, and most of the forces regard obsidian as the finest decoration. In some factions, obsidian has even become a common and rare currency.

And this whole staircase is obsidian?

The huge impact swept through everyone's cognition. They can't even calculate the value of the ladder. Two of his companions even bent down, ready to use their magic to begin cutting the stairs underfoot.

"Don't get excited. Our business is the temple. Remember the guidelines of our mercenaries. Sivir frowned slightly, and reminded coldly.

Your two companions look at each other, and they eventually give up on cutting obsidian. It's not that they really respect the mercenary rules that Sivir said, in fact every mercenary lives for money, and the only rule is that there is no discipline. All their companions feared was the strength of Sivir and Tariq. As if the two of them had failed in their teamwork, they wouldn't dare bear the wrath of these two crazy guys.

It seems that the stairs are not far away, but all the battle-hardened mercenaries are tired and out of breath. When they reached the top of the stairs, Tariq couldn't help but bracing his wobbly body with a three-pronged hammer.

"What the hell is going on?" Sivir asked softly. Sivir had never experienced such a situation, even if she fought until the last moment in a bloody battle, she had never been so powerless. This weakness came from deep in the bone marrow, as if the ladder had absorbed all their energy and vitality. This feeling made Sivir shudder from the depths of his bones.

The only thing that hasn't changed is that the ball is still spinning in the air. And at this moment the ball had stopped moving, and was steadily hovering in front of the main entrance of the majestic white building.

"This is the key. But how do you open the doors of this temple? Tariq roared from his chest.

"Look, there's a hole there, can you put a ball in it?" The Dark Horn's voice was weak, but his words alerted Sivir.

There was indeed a hole in the heavy white stone door that was almost the size of a ball, and the ball was hovering not far from the hole at the moment.

Sivir waved her hand, and she could feel a faint sense between herself and the orb. So she gave it a gentle push, and the ball was stuffed into the hole.

Bang.

A voice louder than thunder sounded above the heads of the crowd. The huge white stone gate, carved with many intricate patterns, began to move slowly at this moment.

The moment the door opened, a purple thunderbolt fell from the sky, and the flash of light illuminated the scene inside the door, or more precisely, a face.

It was an extremely pale face. It was whiter than marble, but his eye sockets were deep, and his eyes flickered like broken lights. His lips were tightly sealed together with blackened twine, a cruel technique that made it impossible for him to speak. The white face is a bald head, he **** his upper body, and looks at the mercenaries who are standing or crawling in front of the gate with an expressionless and empty face.

The white face and the upper body are covered with all kinds of strange patterns, which are like patterns and words, and the cyan patterns are on the white skin, and the strong impact makes people's eyes light up.

White Face made a gesture of invitation to the mercenaries, and the dark corner looked through White Face to see that in the originally dark temple, oil lamps were lit one after another.

After entering the temple, the young mercenaries made their way up the long corridor. When the oil lamps flickered on the walls of the corridor, illuminating the faces of the people, they felt that the previous feeling of powerlessness was greatly reduced.

"Maybe it's the power ......of magic," said Darkhorn, "Maybe the people of this temple have set up traps to cast magic, curtailing us in the way we came, so that we can bend down and learn to respect ......"

The hand of the dark corner rubbed over the reliefs on the walls of the corridor, which seemed to tell a story about the warriors who had gone to find the Holy Trinity Temple and finally fell to their knees, struggling to raise their heads and look at one of the gods in the temple.

The road finally came to an end, and everyone's eyes suddenly opened up. In front of them was a huge temple, which was as bright as the sun. However, everyone soon found out that this hall had actually been abandoned for a long time, and there were abandoned shrines everywhere, and the stone statues had collapsed, and the reason for the bright hall was not sunlight, but at the innermost end of the hall, where there was a high platform, and a huge crystal placed on the high platform was shining like sunlight.

"Is there anyone else here?" Tariq asked.

The white face turned around and shook his head.

"And what are we going to do here?" Tariq continued.

Although he had snatched the mission, the content was simply to find the Holy Trinity Temple. And now that they've found it, they're still in it, but they don't know what's next. Go back the way you came, dig up all the obsidian you can carry back? Or do you find some gadgets in this temple that you can take with you, and when you go back, say that this is proof that you have come to the temple and complete this task?

While Tariq was still thinking, the white face stretched out his equally pale hand and pointed to the high platform that was shining at the innermost end of the hall.

"Let's go over, we're here anyway, maybe there's a treasure there."

The most decisive was of course Xavier, who, after saying this, began to jump over the ruins of the temple, and after a few rounds, her back appeared at the forefront.

"Let's keep up." Tariq said the same. So the companions followed Sivir's back, and they prepared to go to the high platform with excitement and apprehension.

Only the Dark Corner was in a heavy mood. For some reason, he always felt that something was wrong. He acted as a mechanic and thinker in this team, and he had a deep understanding of ancient cultural history and semiotics. From the ball key, to the reliefs in the corridor, and the tattoos on the white face, it seems that they all seem to tell a huge story. And Darkhorn's instincts tell him that the story seems like a tragedy.

"Oops. What about that guy? Darkhorn was horrified to find that the white face was gone. He was the only one left in the empty hall.

An ominous premonition struck me again. Vignette could only rush forward quickly.