When Cremar and Kerribben arrived at Mage Alva's Rime Hut, the black-haired spellcaster and his companions thanked the owner of the hut for his selfless help, but Mage Alva didn't feel that he had done anything commendable - The triangular sea between the Dragonfire Islands and the Azores has always been a hunting ground for pirates, and as a mage and councillor of Cape Fortress, he is willing to stand by whenever he needs to fight against those despicable and shameless thieves.

"If you want to do the math," said Master Alva, who still habitually smoked his hookah and entertained his guests, "the head of a sea demon alone is enough to compensate for them, not to mention her subordinates and ships, and since the addition of these unique ornaments to our outer walls, even the city has been much quieter, not to mention the sea." ”

"I've heard of that. Alva's disciple said, not the one who had given him the spell book he had copied to Cremar - it was Alva's last disciple, and it was Alva's first disciple standing here. He had been wandering for a long time since he left his mentor, and he had not seen him again for more than twenty years, but it is said that he had built a mage tower in a county in Norman Highlands, and had his own disciples and perhaps his people, but perhaps because it was not as warm and rich as people thought, he looked a little older than Alva, and fine wrinkles surrounded his lips and eyes, deepening as he laughed and spoke, like frozen cracked earth:" You're a young but mighty mage," he raised his glass to the black-haired spellcaster, "The Bard has made up a beautiful tune about your battle with the Sea Devils and the Drake of the Golden Lady as I made my way to Castle Bills. Every tavern will hear the name of you and your companions. ”

"People always like the new and hate the old," Carriben said, "and the bards have to cater to them—but in a few months we will hear new legends and new names from their mouths." ”

"Carey the Ranger is quite experienced," said Alva's disciple, "and your name is one of the most common songs in the Psalms anyway." ”

If the previous words were only slightly ridiculous, this sentence was not so gentle, and even with a slight malice, Master Alva called out the name of his disciple, "I'm sorry," and his disciple immediately said, "Maybe it's because I drank too much honey just now." ”

The relationship between the guru and the disciple and the apprentice among the casters is very wonderful. In a way, it can be described as a father-son relationship, or even a more intimate relationship - but even the kindest teachers are extremely tough and strict in front of their own disciples or apprentices, not that they are willing to do so, but magic is far more dangerous than potions and fires, and children who are apprentices in blacksmiths or apothecaries are inevitably injured and killed by accidents because of their impatience and mischievous playfulness, let alone the apprentices and disciples of the caster. Some mages even consciously force gifted children to do the monotonous and boring tasks of wiping walls, utensils, carpets, making and arranging parchment, etc., day after day, rather than leaving them to the servants to do it, in order to imprint obedience and prudence into their hearts. Polishing their edges and curiosity - the two of which could kill them before they even mastered magic, or implicate other innocent people.

Almost every caster's disciple retains a deep reverence for their mentor, even if the magic contract has been broken or the disciple has completed his service to his mentor. They still unconsciously bow their heads when they see their mentors and make way out of the way as a sign of respect - even if they are gray or red, you may say that there are many sorcerers who kill masters, but if you can weigh it carefully. Then you'll find that it's only a small fraction of the total number of Warlocks.

Therefore, since Master Alva gave a warning, his disciple immediately showed a gesture of obedience, and Kerry did not think it was offended. And the consul of Cape Fortress beside Kremar immediately changed the topic to another direction, since the Pearl of the Eastern Crown in the Dragonfire Islands, that is, the side island, has become the territory of Master Alva's children, then the merchants of Cape Fortress naturally have one or more ports that can allow them to buy and sell and anchor with peace of mind, he is also a merchant himself, and he has reached a simple but substantial agreement with Kremar in a few words. Not only did he obtain a black-haired spellcaster's monopoly license (equivalent to the merchants of Cape Fortress no longer having to deal with any of the merchants of the Dragonfire Islands, but instead extracting goods directly from the warehouses on the side islands), he was also granted the right to settle in a port, and a portion of the land near the port for him to build warehouses and residences, and he promised to have five hundred soldiers stationed there at the fort, both to protect their goods and to relieve the pressure on the Normans of the Highlands, and possibly to negotiate with other merchants, but it was almost certain that the Normans of the Highlands on the side islands would be given three brigs or two three-masted ships, and sailorsAfter all, waiting for pirates or someone else to invade the island before expelling them was still too passive for the Normans in the Highlands.

When the spirit of the other world had left its own magical mark on the parchment, a strange pattern that was difficult to identify, the Archon of Cape Fortress carefully rolled it up, dripped it with wax, and stuffed it into a hollow silver cylinder and placed it in his arms, of course, the owner of the side island also had a copy, which also had the seal of the Archon of Cape Fortress - The Archon pulled the hookah and blew several puffs into the fine agate cigarette holder, and when he saw the dark red flame come back to light, he leaned back into the soft velvet cushion and took a comfortable puff, the pale cyan smoke spilling out of his mouth, and the fragrant smell of it permeated the crowd.

The otherworldly soul was the one closest to him, and he sniffed, for some reason, he always felt that the smell was different from what he had smelled before at Master Alva, who used almost all of the spices used in flowers and fruits, most commonly roses. Gardenia, occasional lavender, peach and lemon are his favourite flavours, but he also adds citrus, grapes, olives or blackberries in a creative way. Although their smell was sweet, it could never escape the crisp mildness of the scent of flowers and fruits, and now the soul of the other world had a sharp sense of smell beyond ordinary people, telling him that there was a mellow and sweet smell in them, which he seemed to have smelled not long ago.

- It's the kind of tobacco with its bright flowers, and the lich said, "You shouldn't forget that," he said sarcastically. You're afraid of it like a mortal is afraid of the devil - I'm sorry, I'm wrong, even a mortal wouldn't see the devil worse than you see that kind of tobacco.

- That tobacco is the devil, said the otherworldly spirit, and it lowered its head and searched for the source of the smell in the hookah given to them by Master Alva, but the smoke of the hookah was chopped and mixed, and it was impossible to see what it was.

- I don't understand what's alarming about this, said the lich. Any not-so-stupid spellcaster knows how to remove toxins from their bodies, and their souls are far tougher than a mortal.

- At least we want them to know, says the soul of the other world.

- Not now, the lich reminded.

Fortunately, in order to wait for an elf who is rushing to the castle of Cape Beach. They still had to stay for another day, and that night, when the people had gone to rest and meditate, the spirits of the other world visited Master Alva.

Mage Alva is not the kind of person to turn a deaf ear or even get annoyed by well-intentioned warnings. Even if it ...... "it's a gift," said Master Alva, "brought by a caravan, it is said to have been formed by fermentation of the fruits of the plant. Because Mage Alva was the councilor of the Fort and its greatest protector, the caravans often brought him something interesting and uncommon: "But the caravan came from the Northlands. ”

"This plant is used to prepare a secret medicine on the Dragonfire Islands," said the spirits of the other world, "They use this secret medicine to control slaves." ”

"I've tested them, and they're mildly toxic, but they ......" Relaxing and reassuring his nerves, who had to remain in a state of tension at all times, Master Alva paused slightly, as he remembered that it was none other than his first disciple who advised him to try to enjoy the fruit in tobacco, and that he was unusually skilful and attentive in how to concoct them. Or maybe he was a victim too, or did he share his belief that the poison contained in this fruit might be harmful to mortals, but only a flaw to the caster?

But then he thought of the question, that is, if this fruit had been turned into a caravan caravan, where would it be transported? The caravan footprints of Cape Fortress could trace every corner of the continent, including the whistling plains of the orcs and the Grenada of the dragons, how much damage it had done to mortals? Even if there was no secret medicine to cooperate, he could not imagine that they would be put into countless soup pots. As Cremar explains, the fruit can be smoked not only as tobacco, but also as a medicine, and as a substitute for food - not that it is nutritious, but that the person who eats it does not feel hungry, nor does it feel cold or hot, and even the pain is reduced to a point where it is not necessary.

"They're addicted?"

"It's like an alcoholic, it's just hundreds of times more severe. The otherworldly spirits said, "I have heard that they give people more pleasure than they originally desired. ”

"I'll take notice," said Master Alva, who felt only chills all over his body, for he could already feel- The smoke of the hookah has been with him for decades, but it is only a matter of the last few days that he wants to be able to hold on to it at all times, and no one finds it strange until it is revealed, including himself, Master Alva's closest companion is the hookah, everyone knows this, but no one knows better than him, the hookah was just a harmless little hobby to him before, not as it is now, and it will be unbearable for him to leave for a while- He also smoked a hookah before meditating, filled it with smoke, and set it aside to smoke again when he was done.

"I think I'll have to memorize a new spell. Master Alva said, "I'll do a thorough survey of the entire Pitney Fortress." And his disciples, after the fog in front of them was cleared, the elder's eyes shone with a cold and merciless light like stars.

Exactly how to do it was not something that Cremar could care about, as they waited for their companion at dawn the next day, a young elf, who had met him for the first time, but who, like the other elves, liked the "child" - much to the lich who had taken his place after the dawn had fallen into the starlight river so much...... Pleasant.

Fortunately, the night conversation between the souls of the other world and the mage Alva gave him a good excuse, the meditation and rest of the spellcaster was the most important thing, and he quickly escaped from the hands of the elves, the elven winging ship went in the opposite direction on the raging and roaring starlight river, but it was as smooth as flying above the clouds, the lich sat down on the small but neat soft bed, and opened his dimensional bag, he certainly did not put everything in front of his knees like another soul, for outsiders to admire and understand- His fingers only touched the mouth of the bag slightly, and he pulled out a piece of delicate parchment wrapped in it.

This thing was restored by him to the dwarf McGee, although because there was no relationship with the original, he could only rely on detailed explanations and hand-drawn three-dimensional drawings to make the dwarf understand, which cost them a lot of time, this thing was only the size of a fingertip, but the complexity was no less than that of Baldwin's arm- Gnome McGee was a brilliant and perceptive midge, and it dawned on him that such a thing was just a part of some kind of magical device, and his curiosity and desire rushed up like a tidal wave, and if it weren't for his little sanity, perhaps the lich would have managed to keep his mouth shut forever at the risk of delaying the completion of the quicksilver limb and being punished.

Now it's in the Lich's hands, a pure cube with six faces, each with a mysterious character. (To be continued.) )