Most of the cracks in the maple trees were fifteen to twenty feet above the ground, and the elves used the hollow branches of the vines as drains, and the vines went down the black bark to the oak barrels or sheepskin skins—there were three kinds of work to choose from, one was to exchange the barrels and skins, some of which were overflowing, and more of them were broken by bears, foxes, and even squirrels. The sweet and nutritious sap of the maple tree is also their favorite, and the second is to increase, decrease or change the position of the vine branches, some maples can produce nearly fifty pounds of sap at a time, while others do not even fill half a pound of small skin sacs, if the sap is exhausted, and the drain is still inserted in the crack, it will suck the water and nutrients of the phloem, directly injuring the innocent maple tree, at which time the vine branches should be removed or transferred to other honey-rich maple trees in time. This is also good for maple trees, after all, the sweet sap that flows from their bodies tends to attract countless insects, which don't care that they are sucking the part of the tree, but the work is basically done by the elves who are as light as birds, and the half-elves are a bit heavier, and they will break the branches of the trees - they are responsible for watching the barrels and kneading the skins, taking the full and the bad, and replacing them with new ones.

It was inefficient to the current mages and the former immortals, who could have cut a triangular hole in the maple tree near the ground, so that the juice would come in more and more quickly, and they could have smeared poison on the edge of the barrel and outside the skin, and animals were sometimes smarter than men, and with only two or three corpses, they would be far from the delicious sweet water—no more complicated than doing a two-digit calculation— In his father's kingdom, these procrastinating, unresponsive fools would be dragged out one by one and pricked or sawed in public.

"You don't think that's true, do you?" said Fenway suddenly, as he spun his body sharply and cast a fierce eagle-like gaze at the white-robed spellcaster, "You think we're stupid?" I know you've always lived with humans, but," he raised his voice, abruptly raising a bony finger and pointing at his guide in an aggressive manner, "Listen, don't bring the human suit into the Grey Ridge! or I'll be the first to demand your expulsion!"

A gray squirrel looked at them in amazement from a branch and ran away as fast as it could.

The lich smiled indifferently, of course he knew what kind of smile would most irritate the fool in front of him--the hand in his sleeve had already made a gesture, and this was the second time that he had had his own experiment--if those who were supposed to be on the side of "goodness" had pre-empted him because of their own selfish desires and feelings? could he fight back? to what extent?

He was ready to accept without fear another deprivation of all torture, no matter how terrible or how long it was. He had to do that, and living in ignorance was never a path that a spellcaster would and could choose.

Unfortunately, things didn't go his way, and just as Fenway raised his arm, as if to cast a spell that would make the newcomer unforgettable for the rest of his life, a golden feathered arrow broke the two mages' rivalry and shot into the dirt before them.

"Fenway!"

The lich looked up, and a slender female elf was hurrying towards them from a maple tree with a huge canopy—she grasped a finger-thin vine in one hand and spun and fell so swiftly that it landed on the ground without alarming even the most wary tree frog.

"Fenway. She repeated the name of the guide as she got close enough to them, her outfit close to that of a ranger, that is, leggings and boots instead of skirts, a sleeveless coat that stretched over her hips, a belt, a bow and quiver, and gloves with small Mithril rings, but these did not affect her beauty at all, her eyes were like a lake in the morning light, with a golden glow in the emerald green, and her waist-length hair was lighter than Fenway and Kerryben, like flowing pure gold or moonlight.

"Ilda. Fenway responded, and the lich let go of his finger in disappointment, the man's anger was subsided, and it was okay that he said to himself that he would not lose this wonderful test object as long as the shadow remained.

"He's a child, Fenway," said the female elf with a noble name, sternly but gently, "you know that he has lived with humans before, so you should know that we need to be more tolerant and patient." ”

"I'm afraid that tolerance and patience will bring disaster," Fenway looked at her fearlessly, "There are enough warriors and mages in Grey Ridge, and we don't need new blood, especially this mixed blood—since he has grown to this age among humans, he should continue to live among humans, not come to Grey Ridge with his purpose." ”

"I only want to stay here for a short time, two or three years is enough," said the lich, in a cryptic, but even more unbearable calm tone for Fenway, "and leave when the search and hunt of the red robes is no longer so urgent and frenzied." ”

"With a lot of detailed maps and information. Fenway said.

Ilda sighed deeply, "Don't do that, Fenway, he was brought into Grey Ridge by Kerryben, and he is his guarantor," the lich didn't miss a hint of gloom in Fenway's eyes, "He's worth believing." ”

"You can do whatever you want, Ilda. Fenway said, and turned away without hesitation.

"Is Fenway still the same?" asked Kerryburn.

"It's still the same. The manager of Grey Ridge, a male elf with steel-blue eyes, replied, who, like the other elves, could not identify age outwardly, but with a sense of poise that Kerry might not have had, put his fingers together on his desk in a tower-shaped gesture of thinking.

"And you're going to make him a facilitator?"

"I heard that kid is cute," said the manager, "that I wish he had changed his ingrained weirdness a little - I don't know where he got it." ”

"Does he still hate half-elves?" asked Kerry, incredibly, "but he's a half-elf himself." ”

"He doesn't think anything that can be trusted by living creatures that are not of elven blood," said the Administrator with a sneer, "and he once told me that he was willing to kick everyone, including his own half-elves, out of Grey Ridge if he could." ”

"This kind of thinking ......" Careyburn paused and modified his diction, "It's too intense." ”

"It must have something to do with his father," said the Administrator, "and his father had only a quarter of human blood, but he almost sold the entire Grey Ridge to thieves and the Red Robes." ”

"Bloodline doesn't rule everything. Carey Ben said, "There are the best in mankind." ”

"I never doubted that," the administrator tapped on the table, "but the most vicious and the most vicious breed in this race, as you can see." ”

"Yes, a new guild of thieves is being born. Kerribben said, a cloud clouding over his forehead and eyes: "Not the 'Silver Fingers' for theft and smuggling, nor the 'Evil Thorn' for assassination and conspiracy, but a new guild that seems to have encompassed all four crimes, the exact name of which I don't know, except that their members have diamond-shaped tattoos on their fingers or rings with such patterns, and there are already traces of them in the Castle and the White Tower—including even the Snake People." ”

The manager frowned in disgust, "That kind of thing originally only lived in the Dragonfire Islands. ”

"They brought the snake men into the mainland," Mr. Kerry said, "and in that smuggling underground waterway, the snake men were used as guards and assassins. "That's the idea that Furt originally played, even if the guards couldn't, the snake man could kill all those in the know, so that no one would know that he had leaked secrets.

"The wind in Grey Ridge always smells of honey and trees," said the manager, "but lately I have been smelling blood and steel from the wind again." ”

"Hmm," the lich looked innocently at Ilda, "should we chase him back?" given that he had only learned how to make maple candy.

"No," said Ilda, "to hell with him, I'll do the rest, I've been a facilitator," she reached out and stroked the caster's black hair gently, "Do you agree?"

"Of course. Said the lich.

Ilda immediately smiled brightly and sweetly, "Good boy," she said, "or would you like to tell me about you on the ship?" I heard, but not in great detail, for everyone would fall to the ground laughing in the middle of the conversation......

The Lich considers whether or not to cast the spell he had just prepared.

The author has something to say: That, I remember I still owe a chapter......