The dim candlelight spread in the direction of the curtain, and at the end of the light was a beautiful figure carved out of ice, and the face that emerged from the darkness was like that of the ice and snow fairy described in the myth, but the straight nose and chin seemed to be carved with a chisel, and each line was delicate, and she was staring at a young man in front of her, and occasionally a dark blue brilliance flashed in the depths of her eyes. The young man sat on a dusty wooden box, his brow furrowed in composure, one hand on his cheek, elbow propped on his thigh, and unconsciously rubbed the shards of glass scattered in the dust with his polished riding boots.

Sharp shards glittered in the candlelight, like pearls in the sand.

"Greta, you seem to be impatient?" The woman's voice seemed to come from beneath the abyss of nightmares, like a biting icy wind blowing through, and everything froze everywhere it passed, making a crisp sound that made mortals' hairs stand on end. But the young man called Greta was not a mortal, to be exact, he was a dead man, and dead people do not feel cold, because they have no body temperature at all—hearing this, Greta raised her head and looked at the Banshee King with a throbbing, crimson soul fire like surging blood plasma.

He then smiled gracefully, a smile that was more than the smile on the face of the most suave gentleman in man, except that it appeared out of place on a cold, stiff face without the slightest blood, but it did not feel strange at all, but it made people feel like a spring breeze. "You don't know, Lady Alvet, I didn't want to come to this place where birds don't in the first place, and it is often said that the undead are the most tasteless, because they always stay in those lifeless places, and this place is a hundred times less tasteless than the most tasteless of the undead. Excuse me. Wouldn't you be bored in a place like this? "The future sword of the empire of Madara, the person who is known as the strongest sword master after Darus spread his hand and asked.

"I'm not bored, I'm not bored, that stuff doesn't mean anything to me, but I know you're not worried about this, it's about the person you're about to meet." Alvette replied indifferently.

"Yes. Because he is the master of this place, and it is even more terrible to be a place a hundred times more terrible than a place that is a hundred times more tasteless than the most tasteless undead, the master of this place, and I hope that he will never be complacent about his masterpiece, it will be even more and more terrifying. ”

"Actually, what do you have to worry about, I met that man, we had a relationship before he died, and he was a mortal at that time. But the bloodline is a little more noble, a Miner, that's all. ”

"How many years have you lived, ma'am?"

"I thought you should ask, how many years have you been dead-"

"Okay, when I didn't say it." The young man was helpless, and then asked, "Have you really seen that person?" ”

Alvette nodded: "I saw him in Yas Bay about twelve hundred years ago. But we were in a hurry, but I knew who he was. But he didn't know who I was. ”

"What was he like then, was it as terrible as it was rumored?"

"Are you afraid of him?" The Banshee King asked rhetorically.

"Don't you look scared when you look like me?" Greta was slightly stunned, and couldn't help but look down to check his appearance, wanting to know where he was wrong.

"You look scared, but the undead don't feel real fear—"

"Failure." The young man sighed: "He is a prophet, he has seen the fall of the empire with his own eyes. For a thousand years, he watched his race decline, banished, forgotten by Martha, and watched his once glorious Qiē disappear into nothingness. The wind and sand buried the relics belonging to an era behind history, but he was indifferent. Doesn't he have the power - no, the legend says that he has the power to destroy the world, in Mardos, his status is second only to the dark dragon, no, maybe higher, it's just not known to others, as long as he makes a move, the four sages have no chance of winning, but he is indifferent, what is he thinking? ”

"What are you thinking?" Alvette glanced at Greta in surprise: "These things have nothing to do with you at all. ”

"I wonder if such a person must be guarding a secret that can answer a qiē answer, and isn't that the one who asked us to come here proves it?" Greta said with gusto.

"I didn't think you were so curious."

"It's boring, ma'am, but I admire you for your tight-lipped mouth."

The Banshee King stared at the dead man with a dark blue gaze until the latter flinched.

"Well, it doesn't matter if you don't say it, anyway, I don't think a person like you who has lived for a thousand or hundreds of years will definitely not know nothing," Greta said helplessly: "But I've been thinking about a question all along, in the great war sixty years ago, the countries should have seen something corresponding, how can they still be indifferent until now, has something happened in the meantime that we don't know?" ”

"What?"

"I mean," Greta said abruptly, gesturing, "don't you think that seems outrageous?" ”

Alvette looked at the man puzzled.

Greta scratched his hair as messy as hay and explained: "Why didn't they settle the matter at once, and left all the contradictions to break out today, I mean the queen of the Cruz, if I remember correctly, during the second holy war, the dragons and the Bugas should have been present, they could handle the matter perfectly, but they chose to be indifferent, and even contributed to the development of the situation, if it weren't for them, where would the queen be today?" ”

Alvette frowned slightly, as if she had no interest in it. "Maybe they're happy to see it, maybe they're confused themselves, you have to understand that since a thousand years ago, the Four Temples have been on the side of justice, and this kind of justice is by no means a rhetorical justice, nor is it hypocritical hypocrisy, if they can't stand on this point. They will lose their morality, just like today's Flame Temple—whether it is a priest or bishop of a Protestant or an old religion, they can still use their magic to gain power from the Golden Flame Path, which shows that the morality in their hearts is not skewed, but their positions are different. ”

"You seem to know a lot about their teachings?" Greta's eyes lit up. It's as if you've discovered a new continent.

But Alvette shook her head impatiently and denied, "If you witness the history of these four temples from their birth to the present day, you will also understand more." ”

Greta showed a look that was more ugly than crying: "Ma'am, although I know that you are very qualified to say this, can you not always talk about this, it is very bad for my self-confidence - experience and experience can make a person extremely wise, and the years and time have not left the slightest trace on you, but have added to your glory and charm, I know." This is very enviable, but if you always show off like this, I can't stand it. ”

Alvet didn't say a word about Greta's cliché, apparently accustomed to the young man's way of speaking.

The latter did not receive a response from her, but was not discouraged at all, and continued: "But I agree with one of your opinions, maybe they are also confused. But if Her Majesty the Queen is the destined hero, then what is there for them to be confused about? ”

"Something didn't happen. No one can say whether it's right or wrong—"

"So there's another possibility?"

The Banshee King suddenly turned his head and asked coldly, "What exactly do you want to say?" ”

"It's nothing," Greta smiled slightly, "it's just a statement, but then again, you've probably seen those real heroes, like the four sages." Ms. Alvet? ”

"Pretty much, in those days, I had heard some of their legends, but I hadn't really met them."

"What about the Lord of Fire?"

"He's special, that young man is full of possibilities. The bards described his life as a miracle, and it is apt. ”

"So, the Lord of Fire is a legend indeed," Greta asked, "Lady Alvet, you say that there is anyone in this world who can truly foresee the future?" ”

"There's one where you are."

"No," said Greta, shaking her head, "that man's foresight of the future is at best a revelation, and the prophet can see in the revelation a strange vision, which is a mess, but only a corner of the future, and they can see these fragments, but they are powerless to change them. What I'm saying is, if someone can see the future and change it happens—"

"Unless the person you're talking about is a god, which is said to have been the power of the gods in ancient times." Alvette replied coldly.

When Greta heard this, he stopped talking, and bowed his head in deep thought. After a short while, a huge dusty door in front of the two of them suddenly made a creaking and tooth-aching sound, and then slowly opened to both sides, and no one manipulated the giant door behind it, as if it was self-aware and automatically welcomed guests from afar.

Both Alvette and Greta looked up at the same time, and saw out of the darkness behind the door a rickety old man, dressed in a robe and holding a most ordinary wooden staff, walking tremblingly as if he were a candle in the wind. The oil will run out at any time. But Tarig couldn't help but stand in awe-inspiration when he saw him, some were sung in legends, but others were legends themselves, like the one in front of him, whose story was so numerous in Vaynd long before an era that his name, whether a thousand years ago or a thousand years later, was enough to stir anyone's heart.

Although it was just an ordinary Miner name, it didn't even need words to describe it before it was already echoing in the darkness.

Even Greta couldn't help but bow deeply under the gaze of the pair of agate-like gazes.

But only Alvet still stood tall.

……

The sun's brilliance streaked across the sky west of Metz, not lingering for a moment in its inherent trajectory for anyone's attention, like a burning meteor that fell at an irretrievable speed toward the end of the sea and sky west of the continent. When an inherent moment passed, the silver woodland was no longer sunny, but was dyed with a light red glow, and the twilight was visible in the western sky, and the stars were like diamond powder on the light purple sunset background.

The knights of the White Legion were escorting the army of the undead through the last leg of the Golden Needle Valley, and the knight chief Marjory looked up at the sky, the time was just right, although the valley was long deserted, and the mountain people had long since continued to migrate north, and the south of Wallach firmly attracted the attention of the incompetent nobles of Port Fatan, but no one wanted to spend the night in this forest full of strange legends, especially with such a large pile of bones.

While they are the bravest of knights, there is nothing wrong with them, but most of the legends in this forest come from the gruesome tales of the mountain people, those from the previous era, and the words are full of awe-inspiring mysteries.

He raised his hand and gestured to the knights beside him—the last stretch of the valley lay ahead, and the gently undulating ridges formed a narrow pass, the most complex area of the terrain and perfect for ambushes. Although the place had long been deserted, out of a cautious and cautious nature, he felt that it would be safer to send scouts to investigate according to Cruz's military discipline.

Marjory knew this very well, and the reason why the Duke had taken a fancy to himself to carry out this important task was because of his cautious nature. This kind of personality is a bit too indecisive for a commander, but it is just right for the moment, and he never thought that he would be promoted one step higher, and the knight chief is already a more satisfactory position in the ranks of the empire.

The knights, who were his own personal guards, quickly understood what he meant, and set off on horseback. Marori's noticing that the Earth Dragon had not startled any birds as it passed through the forest was not a good sign, and it made him frown deeply.

Sure enough, only a moment later, he heard a roar from his guards, followed by the neighing of men and horses, from which he could even distinguish the sound of feathered arrows breaking through the air with years of experience in the march.

"There's an ambush!"

The knight's voice rang out at the same time as the voice in his head.

…… (To be continued......)