The author has something to say:

Thank you to the adult who reminded me that sugar should be more expensive and rare than honey in the Middle Ages (why can't I find that book review?), but it is because of magic that many places are different from the real Middle Ages, just like the commoners I described in this article, they lived a much better life than their medieval counterparts - in my imagination, magic played a role in the technological development of the lich's world, so this plane was richer and more diverse than the real Middle Ages.

Okay, please continue to read the article - because there are more aspects involved, if there are still adults who find bugs, please raise them more, and the fish bows here to thank you!

The piping hot roasted chestnuts, wrapped in maple sugar, are fragrant and crispy on the outside and soft and glutinous on the inside.

Kerry thanked the elf who had brought him the roasted chestnuts, and then sat down next to the still sleeping caster, chewing on the chestnuts and drinking the rest of the light wine until the snooze creature next to him whispered and curled himself up into a ball.

"The glimmer is gone, the galaxy is about to appear, wake up, my friend," said Kerryben between chestnuts and light wine, "delicious roasted chestnuts are waiting for you." ”

"The last sentence doesn't rhyme," Cremar muttered, glad that his body wasn't stiff and aching from an afternoon of sleep on the hard deck, "and shouldn't the world that need to be saved waiting for me?"

"It's not impossible if you want to trade roasted chestnuts for a chance to save the world," Carey said, "but are you really going to do it? This is the last batch of chestnuts picked late last fall, and if you miss this time, you'll have to wait until October this year." ”

“awwww...... Then it's still chestnuts," said the black-haired mage solemnly, "I prefer chestnuts." He licked his fingertips with the sugar powder, and the wind blew there, bringing a cold chill: "The wind has become stronger." ”

"As we had crossed the tributary and entered the Starlight River, an elf with darker hair than Kerribben replied, "We're about to run at full strength, Kerryben!" he exclaimed, looking curiously at the black-haired half-elf whose cheeks were filled with chestnuts.

Cremar cast an inquiring look.

"We are now traveling at a speed of forty miles and a block (one block is equal to about an hour). The elf explained with great interest: "When the wings are raised, they reach eighty to ninety miles. He was apparently speaking to Cremar, not to Kerryben, "Do you want to go back to the cabin at once, or do you want to feel the wind on the Starlight River?"

Kerry grunted disapprovingly.

Cremar pretended not to hear, but his eyes told Kerry that he was eager to try, "I might get in your way." He said hypocritically.

"We can avoid you," the dark-blond-haired elf said briskly, "but remember to hold on to the ropes, the wind and the starlight river will take everything they can." With that, he bowed lightly to Kerryben, and in the blink of an eye, he disappeared without a trace.

"Your injuries. Kerry Ben reminded.

"Hmm," Cremar said, placing the Mithril Staff into the Dimensional Bag, healing techniques can certainly rejuvenate you, but the nascent skin and muscles are fragile, and it will take some time to regain their original tenacity and strength, "I think I can still find a way to solve this." ”

A long, clear cry rose from the water, and the elves and half of their kindred leaped and jumped like little brown squirrels between the friss-liners, and they folded the anchor lines, closed the hatches, and lowered and tied the forerunner and the aft mast, leaving only the massive mainsail at an acute angle against the cold wind from the north. Ripples of silver light appeared on both sides of the ship, and the Mithril membrane wings, the length of the hull, stretched out from the rear side of the ship, spreading in constant tremors, and the two strongest children of the wind elemental passed under them, obediently and forcefully holding up the metal wings.

The ship flew.

If you want to describe the soul of another world, it can probably only be compared to the moment when the plane takes off, but the solid bulkhead of the plane will isolate the wind and water droplets that can suffocate an ordinary person to death, and the ship cannot- The oncoming wind crushed his chest like a wall, and the foam it raised was as sharp as a whip, but that was only the beginning, and Cremar had tried to estimate the speed of the ship, but soon, as the entire hull was almost completely out of the water, he found that what he was seeing was not at all enough to use as a reference for speed, and that all the colors should be a line of light and dark, but he could still distinguish between the rock and the toad prostrate on the rock. It's clear that his eyes aren't the kind of mass-market products that can only keep images on the retina for a fraction of a second.

The lone mainsail swelled to the limit, and the elves relied on the delicate arcane rudder to control the Mithril wings, each small adjustment bringing about another leap in speed, and in some cases, the hull would still be submerged, and the sound of the water crashing against the bow of the ship was like a steel axe hitting a rock.

As the blonde elf emphasized, at this speed, everything that was not fixed or able to hold itself in place would be thrown into the endless Starlight River, and then carried by the river and jumped down the Silver Falls, and if it hadn't been crushed to pieces and someone wanted to retrieve it, he could probably find some traces of it in the waters around the Dragonfire Islands.

Carey wanted to laugh.

The caster's solution was simple, he floated himself and then wrapped the Mithril rope around his waist that stretched and shortened, allowing Kerry to hold himself to the top of the backmast—he looked like a rocking kite or balloon (if the plane had one), but it was safe and didn't affect anyone.

"Hey, Kerryben?" asked Cremar, his gray cloak and short black hair straight up with the wind - the thrill of speed and weightlessness filled his limbs, and he suddenly wanted to do something crazy, really.

"What?"

"If I shout, will it be a bit rude or scare anyone?"

Kerry genuinely laughed.

The next day, when it was the lich's turn to take possession and use of the body, he noticed that everyone on the ship had a strange and sweet smile when they saw him, which made him suspicious and anxious, and he checked his body, but everything was fine except for a few scrolls missing (for which he was used to it), and he suspected that the idiot who shared his body while he was meditating had done something stupid, and he found Kerryben, and the ranger, who deserved to have been sunk in the Endless Abyss for ten thousand years, immediately smiled and walked away at the sight of him- By the time he finally returned to the lich after laughing heartily, the lich didn't want to ask anything.

So, when the former undead finally met a half-elf who didn't say anything to him, he didn't feel angry or frustrated, on the contrary, the negative emotions of defensiveness and depression made him feel good and happy.

The male mage named Fenway (an elven name) had moss-green eyes, deep, stern, drooping wrinkles at the corners of his mouth and eyes, and a slight grayish skin - the kind of lifeless gray that old people often have, which is rare in Gray Ridge, and even half-elves will maintain their youth and vitality for two hundred to three hundred years in adulthood, and the lich prefers that they are born of personality rather than physiology- His hair was grayish-blonde, not unlike the long hair that most of the inhabitants of Grey Ridge habitually wore to the back of their shoulders or waist, it was trimmed short, and the length of his temples was deliberately reduced, leaving his ears completely exposed, which were not as long and soft as the elves but still thinner than humans, and he wore robes that were not black or white like human mages, but dark brown like a ranger, and had only a Mithril ring encrusted with emeralds on his hand.

He was the steward of Grey Ridge - a guide assigned by the elves to Cremar, and it took only half a day and a night for the winged ship to reach Grey Ridge, laying down a shipload of silk, salt, and dye, laughing and talking about an elf who was a "cute and mischievous little guy", a ranger who was just as good as he was, and a lich who needed to exhaust all self-control to keep calm and composed.

The process of meeting the managers was short and easy, thanks to Kerribben, who seemed to have a high level of prestige and credibility in the Castle of Cape, the White Tower, or Ash Ridge, and even those around him benefited from it.

Everyone loved Kerryben, except for the Lich, and his guide, the former of whom savored the secret and dark jealousy of a half-elf who had lived in Grey Ridge for decades, jealous of an elf.

"Grey Ridge is not a lively place," said Fenway, in a calm and cold tone, without a hint of emotion: "There are no bazaars, shops, or taverns, and if you want to prepare spell materials, you need to collect, plant, or sail to the White Tower, and if you need food, you can hunt and gather, but you are not allowed to have more than is necessary for your survival - unnecessary killing and destruction will lead to your expulsion, and the benefits you have received from them, whether monetary or otherwise, will be confiscated and destroyed. Grey Ridge rarely requires money, and the remuneration you receive is usually related to the work you do, which you can use to exchange with your neighbors or friends for what you need, or you can give it to our merchants, who will exchange it for flour, spices, and other general goods. ”

The Grey Ridge is an extension of the Silvercrown Forest, which in fact consists of a wide flat valley with gentle ridges on either side, and tall and leafy maple forests cover every corner of the ridge, even encroaching on the shrubs and pebble slopes along the banks of the river.

As the name suggests, when it grows to the fiftieth year, it will naturally crack a dozen or dozens of axe-like cracks, and the branches and leaves flowing from these cracks are transparent and colorless, with the unique fragrance of the tree, and they gather together, and after resting, they will appear milky white, and then heat to remove the moisture inside, and what remains is a viscous syrup as bright and golden as pine resin, which is poured into a stone or clay mold while it is still hot, and when it cools and solidifies, it is the most pleasing maple sugar。

The author has something to say:

Last night there was another problem with the internet - sorry, I can't even get on my phone......

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