The Goddess of Magic probably won't be coming back.

Victor woke up from his deep meditation and saw the familiar magic laboratory in front of him, with open scrolls and arranged runestones neatly placed on the table not far away, and a faint lilac smoke wafting from the copper kettle beside him, from which the smell of incense was constantly emanating.

There are still some faint and confused impressions in his mind, which are the "revelations" brought about by deep meditation, and there may be a little bit of "shadow" mixed with dreams and illusions. He shook his head, shaking the meaningless impressions out of his mind: in those impressions, there was no feedback from the goddess of magic.

Victor exhaled softly, feeling that his spirit had completely recovered - as an old mage who was no longer young, his energy was not as good as before, and he had to use deep meditation to recover after doing a few magic experiments or performing hours of high-intensity calculations in a row, but he felt that he was still very early to "retire", and in terms of the lifespan of a high-level transcendent, he might still be able to serve the Wild family for half a century, and he used the wisdom and experience he had accumulated for most of his life, And an accurate judgment of things and changes in the current situation is the key to ensuring that you have a chance to continue your allegiance.

The old mage, who had served as a high-level advisor in Winterhold, left his laboratory and went out into the corridor, where he saw the attendants polishing the beautiful crystal windows, the snow-capped mountains outside the window looking clearer and sharper in the clear skylight, and the soldiers and battle mages standing guard at the corners of the corridor, looking spirited and imposing.

The hostess was not in the castle, she had traveled to the Imperial Capital in a passenger aircraft (based on dragoon technology) a few days ago to participate in the investigation of the mysterious disappearance of the goddess of magic as a member of the "investigation team", and on the days of the hostess's departure, Wintercastle still had to maintain an orderly operation, which was the main job of Victor and several other advisors and butlers.

But in fact this kind of work was not theirs in the first place, and when Lady Maggie was still in the castle, if the hostess was out occasionally and did not take her with her, the head maid would be in charge of everything in the castle. This may sound strange to outsiders, but it should be difficult for them to imagine how a "maid" - even the head maid - could have the qualifications and abilities to manage such a castle and command a large number of mages and noble knights in the castle, and only those who actually live in the castle will understand the power and ...... of the head maid Battle effectiveness.

But Lady Maggie has not returned to the North for a long time, and she seems to be in direct service to the royal family because she is busy with another task assigned by her hostess.

A high-ranking attendant in a blue-and-white smock hurried through the corridor, and as he passed in front of Victor, the old mage stopped him: "How's the castle going on for the ceremony?" ”

"Master Victor," the attendant paused and saluted the archmage, "the castle is ready—the horns have been polished, the guards have changed into their guard of honour, and everyone, including the painters and kitchen maids, has been notified that we are just waiting for the bell to ring." ”

Victor nodded, "Good, good job - keep busy." ”

The high-ranking attendant left, and the old mage pondered for a moment, then he sensed the direction of the others, and then got up and flew through the corridor, straight to a terrace at the end of the corridor on the second floor of the castle.

A few people had already gathered, seemingly deliberating and waiting for something, as a translucent shield of breeze enveloped the open, semicircular terrace, shielding it from the cold winds of the northern mountains, making it feel like an indoor space.

The old mage controlled the flying technique and landed smoothly on the terrace, and a middle-aged mage in a light blue robe immediately greeted him: "Master Victor, have you finished meditating?" ”

"The meditation is over," Victor nodded, casually asking, "Is there any news from the hostess?" ”

"There was a correspondence about half an hour ago," the middle-aged mage nodded back, "Let's just follow the procedures issued by the 'Transnational Funeral Committee', and pay attention to order and personnel safety." There is no other command. ”

The mistress's order is still the same as before, and it seems that this matter will still not change today - the goddess of magic is probably not coming back.

"Is Sheriff Bardy Moore in charge of order in the city?" Victor asked casually as he looked at the other person on the terrace.

"Yes," said the middle-aged lady in a conservative black coat with a gold tuss on her collar, "security teams have been set up in all the gathering areas, and medical personnel are already in place all over the city." The citizens who attended the ceremony had almost all gathered in a few squares and two open spaces outside the city—places that other patrols couldn't see, and I would keep an eye on them with the mage's eyes. ”

Victor nodded, his heart calming slightly.

Today, a special funeral will be held, mortals will be buried for a god, but to most of the ordinary people in the city, the goddess of magic is a god who has nothing to do with them, except for the amazing gimmick of "Godfall" that has attracted enough attention and shock, most of the people gathered today are actually here to see the excitement, but it is precisely because they are citizens who are watching the excitement...... Maintaining order is a particularly important job.

There were too many people, and the "fall of the gods" really attracted too many people, and this made Victor, as a mage, feel more and more uncomfortable.

He looked at the middle-aged mage in the pale blue robe, as if to say something, but before he could speak, a melodious bell from the direction of the castle's main building suddenly interrupted his movements.

The bells rang melodiously and lowly, the rhythm slow and solemn, and the heavy, dull sound of the metal striking pierced through the air one by one, rippling around Wintercastle, and at the same time as the castle bells rang, several bell towers in the city below also began to operate almost simultaneously, and the mechanical synchronization device drove them precisely, and the solemn bell instantly enveloped the entire city.

Immediately afterward, the magic net terminals inside and outside the castle were activated at the same time, and a low and solemn voice came from the magic devices located in the Winter Garden, the Council Chamber, and the City Square: "All attention, silence begins." ”

Everyone on the terrace closed their mouths at the same time and began to observe a moment of silence according to the rules of the process, and the whole city became extremely quiet for a moment, except for the sound of the bell, which seemed to have not yet dispersed, echoing illusory in people's ears.

Three minutes later, the silence ended, Victor heard a loud horn suddenly coming from the direction of the city wall, he subconsciously raised his head, a moment later, he saw several small black shadows suddenly rising in the direction of the southwest city wall, those black shadows took off from the city wall, closer and closer, gradually revealing a clear, like an inverted cone-like outline, they swept past the main body of the castle in a low hum, and then flew in the direction of the city, circled over the city and then returned to the castle, And continued to accelerate towards the frozen mountains in the distance.

It was a squad of Dragoons under Wintercastle, carrying the "Relic Ash" of the Goddess of Magic, and according to the process, they were to scatter the ashes on the mountains of the north before the sun set.

In the midst of such a process, Victor finally became a little sad - although like most mages, he was only a shallow believer in the goddess of magic, but a shallow believer was a believer after all, and at this moment he finally had a real sense of what was happening, although it felt a little strange, but he really realized it...... The goddess of magic really can't come back.

At the funeral, in the hearts of everyone involved, the goddess was gone like a human being, and there was really no return.

……

The dragoon flying squadron flew low over the city, a low buzzing sound coming from the sky, and after the flying machines carrying the "Relic Ash" accelerated in the direction of the Whitewater River, a low and solemn voice was heard from the radio installations set up throughout the city, and the memorial to the goddess of magic, Mirmina, began to be played.

Amber stepped forward and opened the study window, allowing the sounds from outside to enter the room more clearly—the voices echoing through the tall buildings of Cecil City, and by the time they reached it, they had layered on a texture that seemed to be a large-scale chant.

Gawain stood behind the window, his gaze calmly gazing out at the clear and vast blue sky.

The three archons, Herty, Victoria, and Baldwin, stood beside Gawain, listening to the movement outside, and looked at each other, and for a moment their expressions were a little strange.

"The funeral seems to be going well...... Hetty pulled the corners of her mouth and said to Gawain, "There is already news of the dragoons taking off from all over the country. ”

"The ashes are sprinkled on the mountains and rivers, and the soul of the goddess returns to this heaven and earth...... "This symbolism ...... Truly extraordinary. ”

"Professional," Amber commented from the window, "very professional." ”

Gao Wen actually felt quite weird, but he still maintained the majestic ancestor character, nodded slightly and said: "We have established a very professional committee, for the sake of the sense of ritual at this moment. ”

"The more solemn the ritual of a god 'dying' like a mortal at a funeral, the more irrefutable his 'death' becomes," Hetty said, but then whispered in a strange tone, "but ...... On another level, the goddess of magic is still 'alive' after all...... Isn't it a little ...... for us to do that?"

"A little out of place?" Gawain glanced at Hetty, smiled and shook his head, "But isn't Lady Mirmina's greatest wish to destroy her own godhood—we're doing her a great favor, and trust me, the 'goddess' will have no opinion, and maybe she'll thank us." ”

“…… To be honest, I even suspect that she was secretly watching her funeral the whole time," Amber muttered beside her, "After all, she took the initiative to hide, and she wasn't locked up in the Shadow Realm, and no one knew that she had sneaked out." ”

"That's not our concern." Gawain said casually.

As they spoke, the memorial speech that resounded throughout the city gradually came to an end, and in the announcer's passionate narration, the meaningful life of the loving, great, and wise goddess of magic, Lady Mirmina, was summed up, and the royal family of Cecil and the Supreme Government Department made a final statement for the god, affirming his outstanding contributions to the development of mortal civilization, and basically summed it up to the effect that-

On the proposal of the Government Council, the discussion of the three consuls, and the approval of the Emperor himself, the life of the Goddess of Magic, Lady Mirmina, is a life of selfless dedication, a life of love and generosity, and a life of active struggle, and the people of Cecil and all mortals in this world who have been blessed by the Goddess of Magic will always remember him, and may He be well on his way.

And the dragoon formations in various places soon received news that they had successfully completed their mission.

Under the watchful eye of as many witnesses as possible, the Empire's pilots flew the largest joint mission ever to dust the ashes of the Goddess of Magic...... sprinkled on the land he had sheltered and loved dearly.

Sprinkle particularly evenly.

"I really didn't expect you to write such a ...... "Victoria looked at Gawain, always with no expression on her frozen face, but there was clearly something strange in her tone," I didn't expect you to describe a god with so many words of praise...... To be honest, it is an honor for anyone to be able to get such a 'funeral'. ”

"Honouring the deceased is the most stingy act, and I could have generously left all the praise of the world to the Goddess of Magic, for she is 'dead,' and the more sincere our memorial service, the more she will die like a person," Gawain said with a smirk, "and the memorial service was not meant for the dead—it was for the living." ”

"I don't know what the situation is on Typhon's side," said Bardwin suddenly, "I hope those Typhonians don't make trouble." ”

"I trust them at this point," Gawain said, "perhaps they don't have magic web communications or dragoon flying machines, but they have communication towers all over the country and griffons and mages two or three times more than our dragoons, and an old empire is no more shabby than a young Cecil when it comes to 'making a big show.'" There's going to be a big funeral over there, too,"

As he spoke, he glanced at the mechanical clock hanging on the wall not far away, and then nodded to the three archons in front of him: "It's almost time, it seems that this 'funeral' has ended successfully, let's talk about other topics." ”

He left the window and returned to the back of his desk, but as he sat down and was about to start the conversation, his gaze froze for a moment.

Above the wooden desk, the free arcane energy in the air focused out of thin air, and it was rapidly leaving a charred dent on the tabletop, and the dent lines stretched rapidly, gradually spelling out eye-catching words—

"Thank you—"

Gawain: "......"

Before he could try to catch the breath, the energy that had been focused out of thin air dissipated, and there was nothing left.

Gawain shook his head, reached out and brushed it on the table, erasing the handwriting casually, and muttered: "It's hard to hide, just hide it." ”