Halfway through this cold winter, life has become increasingly difficult for those living in the border areas.

The town of Gesong was a wealthy and prosperous place, at least until this winter, as it was located near Wintercastle, one of the transportation hubs from Typhon to several trade fairs on the border, and even before the rise of so-called "transnational trade", it was an important base for merchants to gather and gather.

Merchants from the north and south brought in considerable income for the town, and after the opening of trade, the clever people with a keen sense of smell turned the place into a place of gold within a year or two, and even gave it the faint momentum of becoming a great city, but ...... The good days don't last long.

War broke out.

Although it has not yet reached this place for a while, the scene of prosperity and prosperity is gone, cross-border trade has stopped, merchants have avoided this place of right and wrong, important transportation hubs have been requisitioned by the empire, and now the chariots and horses full of money and goods have been replaced by chariots and armies around the clock, and the locals who used to rely on the merchants who traveled from south to north to eat have now had to "idle" down.

Simpson, who runs the hotel, leaned on the window and wiped a brass pipe in his hand with some sorrow, there was no tobacco in the pipe, the shiny body of the bucket swirled in his hand like a playpiece, and a layer of water vapor condensed on the crystal glass window on the side, making the scene on the street seem hazy, the cold wind whistling through the streets and alleys stirred outside the window, and some cold air blew in through the cracks in the window that were not too tightly sealed, so that the middle-aged man who had begun to lose his hair couldn't help but shrink his neck again.

He looked up and saw only a few people sitting in the lobby of the inn - the hotels in town were all in the same pattern, the lobby on the ground floor served some drinks and refreshments in addition to the guests, but since the outbreak of this damned war, all he could sell here was spirits mixed with water and coarse cakes.

A middle-aged man with a scruffy beard sat at the nearest table, looking like he was only a step away from being drunk, and in front of him lay several empty bottles, the choking smell of inferior ale seeping through his dirty coat, mixed with many other suspicious smells.

Simpson frowned and yelled at the side, "Savile! You've drunk enough today! ”

The middle-aged man with a scruffy beard had almost reached the table, and when he heard the shout, he just waved his hand indiscriminately, without even raising his head.

Simpson shook his head, feeling that he had done his duty as a "good citizen", and continued to lower his head and wipe his brass pipe, but a sudden rhythmic sound of footsteps came from the side, causing the innkeeper to look up again.

His somewhat sleepy and impatient expression quickly faded into a smile, and he saw a beautiful lady in a dark cloak and a winter hunting outfit about to walk down the side aisle, her brilliant blonde hair seemed to warm up the terrible winter a little, and a pair of pointed ears peeking out from under the blonde hair reminded others of her origins.

"Lady Soldling, you're going out?" Simpson smiled and asked, "It's not a good weather out there right now......

"I'm leaving in the afternoon," said the elven huntress known as Lady Söldrine, with a hint of neutral magnetism in her voice, "to see if I can hire a carriage to the pass before the weather gets too bad......."

"You're leaving?" Simpson couldn't hide his loss, but his loss was more due to financial losses. Since the outbreak of this damned war, there have been very few travelers who have settled here, and a huntress who has not been involved in this war is an extremely valuable "good guest" of this period—a good room, a fine diet, not as rough as the soldiers who pass by, and above all no arrears...... In terms of money, the elven hunter lived here far more than a dozen drunken Saviles.

"After all, I'm just passing by, and my people are still waiting for me." Thorde "Lynn" said casually with a smile, and glanced in the direction of the door - the identity of the elves is a good cover here, because the elven stronghold responsible for maintaining the magnificent wall is located near the northwest border of Typhon, and it is only natural for a traveling elf to appear in this area, as long as she is careful not to provoke the mage sentinels and administrators of the big cities, "she" can easily infiltrate a loosely managed border settlement like Gesong Town.

But this does not allow us to let our guard down: as the battlefield gets closer and closer to the headquarters of Winterhold, tensions in this area are escalating, and the great air battle three days ago has had a profound impact on the entire battle situation, and now the entire Winterhold area is becoming a front line, and the agents of Typhon's intelligence department and the security forces under the name of Count Winterhold seem to smell something, and are frequently checking for people, and they ...... Been stuck in this place long enough.

The necessary information has been sent away, and the Rangers operating inside and outside the city and the MIA agents who need cover have been evacuated in batches, and the place cannot be left any longer.

"Well, that's right," Simpson shrugged helplessly, "you should return to your people, this rough and bloody war is not for an elegant elven lady like you......"

Thorde "Lynn" only smiled when she heard the innkeeper's words, but did not correct the mistake of the other person's perception - many humans seem to have a misconception about this, believing that the elves are a graceful and war-weary race, and that when all kinds of "ugly" wars break out in the human world, the beautiful elves will hide in the secluded jungle to sing the praises of peace and nature...... This misunderstanding is particularly acute in the north.

However, in fact, the elven ranger force is one of the most powerful in the world, the silver empire also relied on war to build a vast territory, the ancestral jungle has had countless rough and bloody tribes, the silver elves do not rely on art and music to make those voodoo tribes become good at singing and dancing...... But there is no need to explain too much about such trivial matters with a human who runs a hotel near the border.

"She" just nodded to Simpson and was about to leave, but before she could take a step, a sour smell wafted from the side, which made "she" stop and look in the direction where the smell came from—a drunken Savile had fallen asleep on the table, muttering muttered muttered curses in his sleep.

"He seems to have been here all these days," Thorde "Lynn" asked casually, "seems to be an acquaintance of yours?" ”

"Alas...... Hapless Savile, I have some friendship with him," Simpson glanced at the table across from him, and shook his head with a sigh, "He used to run a hotel, on the other side of town, but unfortunately he was dazzled by the rich merchants who came and went, and let him suffer from unrealistic fantasies. He borrowed a large sum of money and even mortgaged his hotel in exchange for the right to use three carriages and a concession permit...... Just this winter. ”

Thorde "Lynn" listened to Simpson's sympathetic narration, and couldn't help but look at the drunken man twice.

The destructive power of this war outside the battlefield is becoming more and more evident day by day, and Savile lying between the bottles is just a small microcosm.

She shook her head, and said casually as if talking to herself, "I wish this war ended sooner." ”

"If that's the case, then I'll thank the gods," Simpson couldn't help but say, pointing to his chest with the finger he had just wiped his brass pipe, and gestured in prayer, "I don't know when this bad day will end......

Thorde "Lynn" did not respond to the innkeeper's words, "she" pulled the hood of her cloak, tightened the straps, and turned in the direction of the lobby exit.

The door to the tavern opened and closed, and a cold wind from outside swept through the interior space, and Simpson felt the cold wind blowing in his neck, and couldn't help but shrink his neck again, and at the same time subconsciously glanced out the window - he wiped the window glass and tried to find the elven huntress from the street, but all he saw was the empty streets and the foggy sky and distant mountains outside the town, and between the light and the shadow of the mountains, an iron-gray giant that seemed to be covered in armor was hovering in the void.

Simpson felt as if his heart had been struck by something suddenly, and the hazy shadow made the blood in his whole body stagnate for a moment, and it took a few seconds before he gasped and regained his ability to think. In panic, he hurriedly looked out the window again, trying to find the giant, but in the background of the mountains, there was no iron-gray armored giant wandering......

It seemed like an illusion just now.

"Savile, Savile!" Simpson banged his brass pipe on the table and tried to greet the person closest to him, "You just saw ...... Forget it, I ask you what to do. ”

……

Thorderling rounded a few streets and burrowed into the alley, his aura completely constricted, and even the passing mages did not notice that a "huntress" appeared in their sights.

After making sure that his surroundings were completely safe, he stopped and glanced thoughtfully in the direction of the mountains outside the town.

He thought of the "hallucinations" that had occasionally been mentioned in the town recently, and his face became slightly serious, but soon he reined in the change in his expression and returned to a state of indifference.

After observing his surroundings again, he quickly found a hidden place and began to change his dress: the costumes of the elves themselves are complex and difficult to distinguish in the eyes of humans, and the special clothes change their form with a slight change, and he turned the original cloak over, turning the gray side outward, completely changing his slightly neutral dress, and finally he reached out to the top of his head - at this step, the high-ranking ranger finally couldn't help but hesitate for a moment, but a sentence from his friend many years ago came to mind: a real strongman, will face the bleakness of life......

He ripped off his wig and quickly put it away—the winter wind was so cool.

At the small intersection on the other side of the alley, a carriage was already waiting here, and Thorderling stepped out of the alley, confirming the situation around the carriage in less than a second, and came to the coachman with an expression on his face.

"Master Delin," the coachman jumped out of the car at the sight of his employer, and at the same time had a respectful and flattering smile on his face: the elven warrior monk is a profession full of mystery, and this kind of excellent and erudite traveler is said to have no more than a thousand people on the entire continent, not to mention that the other party has paid twice the price of the car, which is worth showing all the ceremonial gestures he has accumulated since his mother's womb, "Let's go now?" ”

"I've been waiting," Thorderling nodded slightly, and said in a deep voice, "Let's go, go straight out of the city from the west." ”

……

An order from Cecil kept the technicians of Fort Sollin and Bertila himself completely busy, along with them the technicians who had arrived from Cecil City in a flying machine and were in charge of the Psionic Singer project.

In the center of the Thorin Tree, in a square on the west side of the trunk, Wendy and several other technologists who had hurried from Cecil City were standing with the technicians of Sorin Castle, and in front of them, Selena Glefen, who was holding a lantern, was gradually manifesting like a spirit from the dream world into reality.

The "Lady of the Lantern" raised her head, looking at the strange thing floating in the middle of the clearing in front of her, and finally couldn't help but look sideways at Wendy on the side: "Do you think this thing is put on the battlefield...... Wouldn't it really have a huge psychological impact on our own soldiers in the first place? ”

Wendy opened her mouth and was about to speak, when a slightly woody and hoarse voice came out from the bushes next to her: "It's weird to say this from the mouth of an eternal sleeper priest who specializes in psychic attacks and nightmares. ”

Selena looked in the direction where the voice came from, and saw Bertila's figure rising from the bushes, twisting and wriggling vines condensing in an incredible way into an "avatar" that was barely indistinguishable from a real person, and this avatar was coming this way by relying on the moving roots and vines of the lower half of the body.

"We're just creating some illusions on a spiritual level - you're something that can be scary in the real world," Selena shook her head helplessly, pointing to something floating above the plaza - it was a huge artificial brain, more than two meters in diameter, the grayish white and slightly pink flesh and blood tissue floated several meters high in an anti-gravity manner, its uneven and furrowed surface was even slightly wriggling and shrinking, and a large number of tentacle-like nerve cords extended from its base. With the floating of the body, it unconsciously squirmed and curled, "When it comes to the ability to disgust people, you are still more powerful at biochemistry." ”

“…… Is it really that serious? Bertila thought for a moment and said helplessly, "But I think it's still a little cute......

The technicians behind Selena suddenly showed an almost terrifying look, and Wendy couldn't help but hold her forehead-

The aesthetic ...... of this vegetative man It seems to have completely rotted.