It was a light gray bay, and a fleet of ships was quietly moored in the mist, the slender silhouette of the dragon's head was faintly outlined behind the mist, undulating in the waves, and the soaked wood was covered with scarred scars, some of which still had sharp teeth that had not had time to be removed.

The ship song of the Tirmothians came faintly from the mist, it was a song from the heart, in response to some ancient tune, as if it had traveled through time, and another legendary people of the sea had come across the sea.

They dragged their heavy prey onto the beach in waist-deep waters, the largest of which was a squid almost the size of a boat and several stories high, with leather ropes made from the skins of sharp seals.

It lay limply on the sand, dozens of tentacles full of sharp teeth that were no longer so threatening from dehydration, and the soft soft tissue skin was dried and shriveled, and the huge eyeballs in its eye sockets bulged out as a result, making it look like the remains of a sea monster that had been dead on the beach for days.

But this is an Aether Predator, a descendant of Tungsten Ramo, and it's not the biggest prey the Misty Clan hunters have ever caught, but it's definitely the most valuable prey.

It provides up to one hundred and thirty-three times the experience, or one hundred and thirty-four times the experience, for a total of two seven million four hundred thousand experience.

Brando looked up at the behemoth, which and the surrounding Tirmoths formed a very unreal picture, a picture that was both magical and backward and primitive, as if he had seen the people of the sea above the mythical ice sea hunting.

Those virates who sang ship songs and wore spells to hunt in the forest, brave and ruthless.

A people who were sometimes savage, sometimes elegant, he remembered vividly when a beam of lightning from the Dragonhead Warship of the Tirmothians struck the monster's skull. And when a crack was opened there, a dense magical storm vortex erupted in the void where it was, causing the strength of everyone in the entire ship group to increase by more than one percent.

And the experience it had gained directly lifted him to the extreme, not including the experience he had automatically absorbed from the void.

He gently stretched out his hand and touched it forward, and the Holy White Plains were truly displayed in his field of vision, and countless laws were intertwined in front of his eyes. They are silent, but they are desperate to express their meaning to each other.

And the process by which mortals read them is the process by which they pass through this plain.

The gods have the truth for this, and a mortal picks up knowledge from the plains like a shell in the sea, and what he gets in the end depends on what he wants.

These truths and laws are what he knows—his ideal kingdom, a realm and a realm that is inviolable and inviolable only for those who can truly derive from it. in order to be called a sage.

This is the true Extreme Realm, which is very different from the realm feeling obtained with the help of the Flame Blade. In other words, when he held the holy sword Odysphes in his hand at this moment, he had actually faintly touched the threshold of the peak of the extreme realm.

This is also because his understanding of the law cannot keep up with the growth of strength, because the experience gained from Brando is actually more than enough even to enter the sage realm.

But when entering the realm of the elements, the law is always the first reins to restrain the power, if a mortal crosses the thunder pool, he will sink into the magic and become a monster that cannot be himself.

It is like the tragedy of the bronze family.

But it's hard for Brando to repeat the tragedy. Because by the time he had reached level 50 for the Templars and Frost Guard, the experience points had been completely grayed out. Even the Elemental Envoy and the Scholar could no longer point to it, and it was obvious that the system was strictly guarding against this, for fear that he would take a step beyond the Thunder Pool.

Bran wasn't surprised by this, because the experience was the same as in the game, and at this time, it was for the aborigines to understand the 'law'. The player cannot comprehend the law. So they need to do the task of promotion, the task of the certificate of the sages.

This quest requires collecting the Philosopher's Stone, and it is not a task that can be accomplished overnight. And the former is equally ethereal, and no one can say how long it will take to be good.

The last mortal with a similar experience was born more than 1,200 years ago, and there is only one of these sages left in Vaynd.

The Misty Elder looked at the prey with some pride.

Brando was right, it was probably what it had hunted in its life—it could hunt. One of the most valuable prey. It is strong and perfect, it is a beautiful prey, and the special ability of devouring the law is also very strong, but these are not the key, this prey contains incredible magical power, which is thousands of times richer than the magic in the body of those magical creatures they have captured in the shallow sea.

It's nothing short of a miracle.

In return, Brando relinquished the right to dispose of the prey to the Misty Clan, who had decided to wait until he returned to the ship to place it in the most conspicuous place in the fleet forever - preferably to make a bow statue, which would be one of the Misty Clan's most glorious deeds.

The Ice Sea Clan, which is dominated by craftsmen, will receive the most valuable materials on this corpse, and everyone will be happy, and there will be more than sadness and tears along the way.

In fact, although the Tirmoths lost nearly half of their ships, and the Tooth Clan was even wiped out, because of Brando's final decision, their strength was not weakened much, and each clan gained a lot from this journey.

The adventurers on the shallow sea did not care about life and death, the meaning of their lives had long been shown in the process of sailing in the wind and waves, and when the Tirmoths used bone flutes to play a melodious tune to mourn the souls of the sea, no one expressed great sadness, at best a bit of stern.

This attitude of the eternal people towards life is something that the people of the earth, Brando and the White Mist, cannot comprehend in any way.

"Mr. Brando, we can only send you here, this is the edge of the Mountain of Storm Rest, but there is no concept of space here, so you may only be one step away from the Dragon Queen and the Scepter of Fire."

Tata said respectfully to Brando, and the Tirmoths stood behind her, and unlike Brando, they were about to embark on their return journey. Brando knew they would go through the gray section when they returned, and unlike when they came, it would be a thrilling journey.

"What I want to say is that you will always be the most honored guest of Neverwinter Harbor, and you may one day become its master. Because I am sure that you will definitely be recognized by Sina and become the true king of the shallow sea. ”

"The Ice Sea Clan welcomes you as well, Master Brigade." The Ice Sea Wise Man also spoke.

"It's the same with the Mist Clan." The Misty Elder followed.

Brando nodded at them, and the experience was worth remembering no matter what. Just as he would always remember that there was a clan of Tirmoths who paid a qiē for him, their skeleton may be buried in the turbulence of time and space, but its name may disappear above the shallow sea, but in his heart, it will be remembered forever.

"Please take care, everyone."

There was a sound of blessing in the hearts and minds of the Tirmoths, especially the Ice Sea Clan, who had been saved by Brando. Many people understand what kind of journey this young man is going to embark on, and when he turns around, it may be the beginning of a new legend, but it may also be the end of the world.

But either way, it means that they will rarely see each other again in the future.

This farewell may be a farewell for many of those present.

Brando saw Elder Cab waving his short, fat hand at him with human etiquette in the crowd, and he smiled, and raised his hand to wave at the somewhat cute Tirmoths.

"There's a chance to see you again."

He took one last look at the stocky seafolk and the fleet looming in the mist, took Malocha and the goblin Fias with him, and turned away from the beach.

Andesa and Rout followed him, the latter and the White Mist were at odds apart, while the Shepherd's Patriarch walked between them with some discomfort, bearing the angry glances of both of them.

Tata stared at the group, and the tallest figure in the group, as if looking at a hero. "But Mr. Brando is actually more suitable to be a scholar, but unfortunately this era is not up to us." Miss Fairy couldn't help but think so as she watched the backs of Brando and Malocha move farther and farther away in the mist.

With that, she turned around and said to Elder Keb, who was not far away, "If we don't come back in this battle, you will be the next wise man in Neverwinter Harbor. ”

Elder Keb looked at Miss Goblin and nodded solemnly.

This is Ash Bay.

The wilderness is a rugged landscape, with blade-like pillars of stone encircling the bay, and the occasional breeze blowing through the headlands, blowing away the mist and leaving a trail on the pale sand.

Brando grabbed a handful of gravel and let it fall between his fingers, the sand giving off an unnatural, glassy hue.

Next to him stood Marocha, and Fias and White Mist were on Mr. Hart's back at the moment, the former chattering and chatting, but the latter was actually kind to her, and explained nothing to her without saying a word.

Root, on the other hand, occupies the position of Brando's shoulder, and the fairy prince is not smiling at White Mist, Fias, and Andessa, and only Marocha can tell him to speak, with a stern little face as if no one is in his eyes, but he is obedient to Brando.

Brando was already on the high point of the bay at the moment, and when he looked back, the bay where the ship was located was already just a small spot in the mist, and he didn't know if Miss Elf and the Tirmos had already anchored and sailed back, but his heart was inevitably a little empty.

Although I didn't spend much time with these seafarers, I experienced more things than ordinary people do in a lifetime.

Next, he heard the sound of a horn piercing through the fog.

There were three voices in total, and they came from afar, as if to pay tribute to him.

…… (To be continued......)