The guest strode up to Muhadi, "No matter who you are, I want this thing!" he spat as he spoke, but Muhadi blocked it with psionic energy.

The face of the servant in the shop suddenly became very ugly, and he looked at the man who had broken through, and tried to stop him, but he was a little hesitant. "Master......" The servant only squeezed out two words, and he couldn't say any more. He was afraid, and Muhadi could see it, and he was terrified.

The comer is also a psychic warlock, and judging from his psionic fluctuations, Muhadi judged that he was about the same strength as himself, maybe slightly stronger, but not too much. "Friend," Muhati said in a warning voice. "You're talking about my property, and I've already bought it. ”

"Then I can only ask you to resell it to me. He had blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a thick, thick beard, insisted. The psychic was barefoot and had a ring around his ankle. Muhathir had thought that only slaves liked to wear it this way, but it seems that he was mistaken.

"Then you're going to be disappointed, I don't care about gold. "Muhadi refused, the Great Psychic Warlock has been killed, do you have to back down when you encounter an opponent who is not stronger than yourself?" He instructed the servants in the shop, "Drive this madman away, I like to be pure." ”

"I'm afraid you're mistaken, little Balangzi. The bearded psychic mancer said aggressively, getting closer and closer. "I didn't say I was going to give you gold, I paid steel, not gold. ”

The servants in that shop were so frightened that their faces turned white, and if the two psionics fought here, the store would be ruined. In the distance, two people dressed as adventurers looked at the conflict here with interest, and the nature of adventurers was to fear that the world would not be chaotic, and they would be happy when the fight really started.

Muhadi pulled out his silver blade and pointed forward defiantly, his eyes looking at a pile of garbage.

The beard let out a roar, and it was too fast.

The psychic powers of the two sides collided fiercely together, wrestling with each other, trying to overwhelm each other, manipulate each other, and ravage each other. The huge mental pressure made the servants in this shop and the few adventurers standing in the distance unable to move, and it felt as if they were being targeted by some vicious beast.

The armor displayed in the shop swayed, and sand fell from the roof. A silent howl filled the room and beyond.

The opponent is not weak, but Muhadi is stronger. Spiritual power energy poured into each other like a tidal wave, wave after wave, inexhaustible. It seemed that the other party only had the power to parry, but just before Muhadi thought he had won a big victory, a third psychic force appeared.

The psyker behind this shop has made a move, and he can't afford to watch his hard work be ruined.

This third psionic power was stronger than both of them, and it unexpectedly gave Muhadi a very familiar feeling. The Psychic Warlock remembered that this power came from the Great Psychic Warlock Ismail, the head of the Psychic Warlock Academy in Ram City.

However, Ismail, as the dean of the Ram Psyker Academy, actually runs the adventurer's equipment shop part-time, which is beyond Muhadi's expectations. What do psionics want so much money for? Doesn't wasting time on business activities reduce the amount of time spent practicing psionics?

Muhati himself received the military salary that Tyr had given him, and he had half of the income from a water plant, so money was not a big problem for him, and he had no hobby of spending money anyway. Originally, when he was on Earth, he still liked to eat spicy food, but now his sense of taste has been destroyed by psionic energy, and this hobby is gone.

Sure enough, after the third psionic energy intervened, a man teleported here out of thin air. Half of his face was handsome enough to make any girl tick, and the other half was extremely old, like centuries-old dead wood. Who is Ismail, who is not combined with the Changing Sea Spirit?

"Ismail. Muhadi spoke up to him. "Can't you even do honest business in your shop?"

"Ismail?" the visitor glanced at the Psychic Warlock, a little surprised, and a little dissatisfaction in his tone. "You must be new to the city. ”

The bearded psychic sorcerer looked at Muhadi with disdain and touched his beard, "Desert barbarian." He gave his own conclusion, which is not necessarily wrong. "Don't come and grab what I fancie!"

"Kneel down the untouchables. Muhati replied with a calm face. "This is what I bought, and it can't be considered robbery. As he spoke, he suddenly swung his silver blade and struck the other man in the chest.

Muhadi used the trick he had learned in Tyre, using a cycle of brainwashing music to cover up his true mental activity, and then suddenly attacked. The bearded man didn't seem to be aware of the other party's attack at all, and he was caught off guard, so he was in a hurry, and could only dodge back awkwardly.

However, Muhadi's sword was only a false move, forcing the other party to retreat, and while he easily reached out and took off the money bag that the bearded man hung from his waist. "This is called robbery, do you see the difference clearly?"

The bearded man suffered a loss, stopped answering, concentrated on his abilities, and began to attack Muhadi again. He blushed as if he were a virgin when he was married.

"Barbarian!" he said. "I'll speak slowly so you can understand. This-east-west-is-I-the, it is made-out-of-out-of-one-purpose-of-the-other, is-is-for-most-honored-of-go-r-sh-clan-occupy-have!" (golsh-quraysh)

"That's enough!" "Ismail" shouted, and at the same time used his surging psionic energy to stop the scene from spiraling out of control, and his face changed to that of a featureless middle-aged man, full of anger. "I'm not going to allow you to duel in my shop, I'm going to fight in the academy. Anything that is broken with me will be compensated according to the price. ”

Muhathir looked at the bearded man, "If he dares." ”

The bearded man's anger filled the room almost as much as he could, and Ram's psychic magicians, unlike Muhadi, did not suppress their emotional fluctuations, but instead drew strength from them. The more Ram's psychic sorcerer's emotions fluctuate violently, the stronger he becomes. Lyra called this kind of psychic sorcerer the slave of Love Xù, and praised her and Muhadi as the masters of Love Xù.

"Sure enough, it's a robber. The psychic said, "Now that I've taken what I'm about to say again?!, then I'll say what you have to say for you, 'I accept your challenge!'"

"I don't think it's a challenge with your strength. Muhadi said again, and the other party's face turned red again, and he wanted to say something hateful to save face.

"Remember to bring my robes!" said the bearded man, and teleported away with his ability.

Ismail waved his hand to signal that the servants in the shop were all right, and went to reassure the other guests, then he looked at Muhadi and said, "I now understand why you think of me as Ismail, you are the Tyrian officer and psychic warlock whom Corwin introduced to His Majesty the Witch King." ”

"That's me. Muhadi admitted, a little curious, "You say you're not Ismail, so who are you? ”

"Isaac. He gave his name, but it was a grandiose name. "I'm Ismail's brother, and we're in similar capacities. But he and I parted ways a long time ago. Now he's him and I'm me. I hate people the most, and I compare them to him. ”

When he said this, the expression on his face was very distorted, and the hatred and pain of Cheng Dù made people feel shocked. You don't need to cultivate psionic energy to see that he and Ismail don't get along.

"I don't care if there is any dispute between you brothers. Muhathir said. "But can you sue me who that man was just now?"

"Yusuf Ghazi, the most famous mandingo warrior in the city. Isaac replied bluntly to Muhadi that there was no need to hide this information. "Looks like you're new to the city. ”

"Samurai?" Muhati remembered what the bearded man had just said, there were too many inconsequential movements, and his reaction was not very fast, if he was also a samurai, it would be ridiculously dead. "I'm a warrior who has experienced biting arrows, and his little kung fu can't even cope with the old man in the desert tribe who has lost his teeth, what kind of warrior is it?"

"Looks like you don't even know what Mandingo is. Isaac twisted the corners of his mouth sarcastically. "Mandingo is a contest between psychic magicians, a display of psionic skill. In Mandingo, the opposing psychic warlock uses his abilities to manipulate a slave to attack the opposing slave. Because direct confrontation between psionics was too dangerous, it became very popular. It's as if a puppeteer manipulates a puppet. ”

Hearing the word puppeteer, Muhadi's heart moved, but the puppeteer that the other party was referring to was just an ordinary entertainer, not the crazy big psychic man.

"Manipulate slaves to fight each other with psionic powers?" Muhadi asked again to confirm.

"Till death rests. Isaac said. "Of course, refers to the death of the slave. ”

"Who came up with such an idea?"

"I'm not a historian, a native of Tyre. Isaac said. "I don't know the answer to this kind of question. ”

Muhadi nodded, then shook his head again. "Cowards who don't dare to pick up a sword themselves play this game. Are Ram's psykers so afraid of death?"

"Sure enough, as the legend says, you have removed all your basic feelings as a human being. Isaac looked at Muhati and said slowly. "But don't underestimate the sport of mandingo, it's a great test of a psyker's talent. Only those who can use their psionic powers as they please, and who have a very high synchronization rate with their slaves, will be able to win undefeated. ”

"Don't underestimate that guy just now, he's much more powerful than you think. ”

Muhati shrugged, not taking the warnings to heart. "Then why did Yusuf Gazi want that robe? It's a good piece of equipment, but it's not so appealing to a psychic man. “

Isaac snorted. "Go ask Yusuf, I'm leaving. I still have a lot of ...... Well, sophisticated research to do. ”

After the other party teleported away, Muhadi thought, it looks like I still have to go there.

The entrance to the Psionic Academy was still guarded by a few Templars and guards. Seeing that the Psychic Warlock was coming alone, they were not embarrassed and happily let him in.

Stepping over the dry moat outside the academy once more, Muhathir entered the psionic academy. The air in front of him trembled, and the dean of the academy, the Great Psychic Warlock Ismail, sensed his arrival and greeted him personally. On closer inspection, Muhathir and Isaac's thoughts fluctuated a little, but those differences were so small that they would not have been possible unless they had known in advance that they were two people.

"I expected you to come back. As soon as we met, Ismail said so. "I've heard the news that you've been kidnapped by your opponents, and now that Lyra doesn't work, right? I can guarantee that with your talent, you will be able to defeat that enemy within three to five years. ”

"I've already killed that enemy, and I don't want to disobey Lyra's teachings. Muhathir said. "I'm here today to fight a duel. ”

"Duel?" Ismail said, crooked lips. "With whom?"

"A bearded man named Yusuf Ghazi. ”

"It turned out to be him. Ismail asked in a disapproving tone with a look of course. "How did you get into a conflict with him?"

"I met him in Isaac's shop," Muhadi replied. "He had his eye on a piece of equipment that I liked. ”

"Then you're in bad taste, Tyre. Ismail shook his head. "Like the man Yusuf, I went to Isaac's shop to buy something. ”

"You don't have a crush on your brother. Muhathir noted.

"Who would have a crush on him?" Ismail shook his head. "Shameless man, who does he think he is, but a profiteer. ”

"I have no intention of intervening in the conflict between the two brothers. Sue me that I can find Yusuf there, and after killing him, I will continue to investigate the puppeteer's case. ”

"Trust me, you can't find out. Ismail shook his head again, but he did not refuse to tell Mohammadi Yusuf the address of his house, "Duels are best fought in the Colosseum, where there is no fear of destruction." With that, he teleported himself away.

Muhadi was thoughtful, and from the other party's words, the telemancer strongly felt that the other party was not so much saying that he couldn't find out the result, but that he didn't want to find out the result. Why exactly?

When he arrived at Yusuf's house, the bearded Mind Samurai was already waiting for him. As a famous Mandingo warrior, his house was next to the gladiatorial arena, which was convenient for dueling.

The Colosseum resembles the Colosseum on Earth, and is somewhat similar to the Colosseum in Tyre, but not as large. The Colosseum in Tyre can accommodate tens of thousands of people, and there are statues built for legendary gladiators outside. The gladiatorial arena in the Ram Psionic Academy could only accommodate a few hundred spectators, but it was not built of stone, but made of crystal.

Psionic crystals, sensed by Muhadi, have been specially strengthened to resist and isolate most psionic attacks. So as not to let the two sides of the duel dismantle this place.

At this time, it was getting late, and there were not many people in the academy. Except for the occasional frantic scream that pierced the long night, there was silence near the Colosseum.

Muhadi stood in the arena, face to face with the bearded man.

"Before you die, sù me your name. Yusuf Ghazi said. "I'll erect a monument for you. ”

"I don't need that kind of thing. Muhathir said. "You've gotten a lot stronger. He realized, with some surprise.

The bearded psychiocrat burst into a wild laugh. "Of course, you don't think that slave is my true strength, do you?"

"Slave?" Muhadi's face was even more surprised, but he understood immediately. "You're remotely controlling that guy just now, the guy who just appeared in the store, just a slave, a puppet?"

When Muhadi heard about the Mandingo warriors, he thought that they could only control the slaves who fought by **, such as the warrior thieves, but he didn't expect that the psychic warlock could also control the slaves to produce abilities. There's a big difference between the two, as the former only requires a single manipulating ability to do the job. The latter requires abilities that are much more complex and subtle.

This also explains why the bearded man is so clumsy, originally a remotely manipulated puppet, and his strength is naturally not as good as the original body.

"Naturally, I reshaped my face with spiritual energy. Yusuf Ghazi explained, as if to see through the suspicions in Muhadi's heart. "Now you know you're no match for me, what about my robes?"

"Didn't bring. Muhathir said. "Because you're not going to win. ”

The bearded man looked at Muhati and smiled at him. With that expression, Muhathir seemed to see a crocodile smiling at him. "You won't die, I promise. Your punishment is much more terrible than death. ”

"To me, being alive is much scarier than dying. You can't imagine what visions I have experienced with my master. Those memories still haunt me, replaying them in nightmares. ”

"Sharp teeth. The other sneered, "The ability to help you in the bazaar or in the bed is useless in the arena! The field we stand on is soaked in blood and sweat, not the saliva of lobbyists." Over the past 700 years, this place has witnessed the fall of countless people who do not measure their own strength, and I will also uncover your self-righteous stinky face. ”

Muhadi's mind moved, and his opponent immediately launched an attack.

Two psychic sorcerers simultaneously display depth hints, trying to twist each other's will into their own submissions. While the will is fighting, the conventional means of attack are not idle. Muhadi drew his silver blade and walked forward quickly, deciding to take advantage of his opponent's weakness in his own martial arts.

The bearded man smiled unknowingly when he saw his opponent rushing up.

Upon her return to Ram, the face dancer Hetticher disguised herself as a bureaucrat in Tyre and lived in Corwin's house. But she didn't have to pretend for too long, because she knew that the real Tyr was coming, and even the psychic didn't know about it.

It's not that the ruling council deliberately concealed anything from Muhadi, but the female assassin only learned of this through the guò-faced dancer's own intelligence channels.

The face dancer was not seriously injured, but his heart was greatly shocked.

A great psychic warlock of Lasgu's level, if the face dancer deals with it himself, he can only choose to lurk, find an opportunity, and assassinate him in one fell swoop. Unexpectedly, Muhati actually killed that guy in one fell swoop with his own strength.

The face dancer naturally didn't know that in the end, Muhadi won with a little help from the primordial warlock. In her eyes, the psychic warlock seemed a little inscrutable.

was originally a man with mediocre strength, but now he suddenly pressed himself. This is unacceptable to face dancers who have been trained rigorously since childhood and are confident to give more than anyone else. Even in the makeover hidden in Corwin's mansion, she still has to keep cultivating to ensure that she keeps improving.

The fighting skills of the face dancer are a combination of the way of the sword and the psionic energy. They will first cultivate to the limit of mortals in combat skills,

Then use all sorts of weird abilities to make yourself more deadly.

However, what really makes face dancers so unguarded and pervasive is because they are good at disguised as anyone, not even ordinary psychic warlocks, who can't see the loopholes.

Hedicher was exercising her abilities at this point, disguising herself as a servant in the house. Walk through silently.

Face dancers understand that everyone's footsteps are different. Some are heavy, some are light, some are fast and others are slow, some are used to landing on their heels first, and some are on tiptoe. Attentive people can tell who is coming just by the sound of their footsteps, so if a face dancer wants to disguise himself as someone else, he can't even take a wrong step.

Most of Corwin's servants were highly trained and accustomed to tiptoeing so as not to disturb their masters. They weren't slaves, but they were slaves.

Hedicher disguised as a Tyre official and accompanied the fainting Muhati when he arrived. Prince Corwin told her, "This is a critical moment, the treaty of friendship with Tyre has not yet been signed, and at this time, it is inconvenient for you, as an official of Tyre, to come and go at will. ”

"Some nobles who don't want to see Tyr cooperate may try to assassinate you, and then you will be in trouble. So said the prince. "If you want a woman, don't go to a brothel, just choose from my maids. They will all be obedient. ”

"You say they're all slaves?" asked Hedicher, a pretending Tyre official, in a tone of righteous indignation. That's what the real Tyre revolutionaries said, and they hated slavery to the core.

The prince pouted and said. "I don't have slaves. I'm just saying they'll be obedient. ”

Corwin bowed shallowly, "Forgive me for my misaccompaniment, as Ram's prince, one of the costs he paid was having to be disturbed by all kinds of trivial matters. You can live in my mansion, enjoy food, wine, and beautiful women, and you can visit everywhere, without leaving the yard, for your own safety. ”

So Hedicher actually began to visit Corwin's house, but from the perspective of a servant.

The hosts and guests had toilets in their rooms, while others had only earthenware night pots. Out of sight of the adults, the servants had to clean up the house from the house for excrement and filth every day. They walked a corridor parallel to the main corridor, but much lower and much darker. Their destination was a vegetable patch in the courtyard, from which the Corvin and the adults had bought their food. The servants only had dried beans, and if they wanted to eat vegetables, they had to grow their own vegetables.

Unfortunately, oil lamps were too expensive for servants to use. And their rooms are generally poorly lit, so they often have to chew on low-quality ingredients that are difficult to swallow in the dark.

This reminds the face dancer of his apprenticeship and his training as a blind man. Senior face dancers will gradually take away one of your senses, forcing the apprentices to learn how to fight without relying on their senses alone. This skill is a must for those who want to constantly fight psykers who can manipulate people's minds and create illusions.

Heidiche stepped into a bright and spacious room, which appeared to be a Harman bathroom in the house. The room was dark, but through the cracks in the shutters, the golden light of psionic crystals shone in. The floor of the bathroom is intricately patterned, with countless crushed stones and rounded crystals to form a crescent moon pattern, surrounded by grapevine-like text.

In the bathroom, there is a stone table for people to put food. If Muhadi had seen this bath, he would have said that it had the same graceful style as the hammam on earth, which was handed down from ancient Roman times. However, in the eyes of the face dancer, she only felt that the nobles were arrogant and lascivious. The water needed to maintain this bathroom is enough to supply 1,000 people on a daily basis.

On the desertified Attas, this is an unimaginable luxury. Heticher had also heard of a merchant family who had built a lavish facility known as the Ocean Pool, where there was enough water for people to swim.

Six stone stools for people to sit on enclose the fountain in the middle of the bathroom. A boy stands naked in a pool, holding an assassin's sword in a duel pose. He was light and handsome, and looked no more than sixteen years old, with neatly cut ear gold. The statue was so realistic that the face dancer actually saw the other person as a real person at first glance, even though the sword he held in his hand was indeed a real sword.

Hediciher went to another room, where Benedict's men had rushed in the previous battle, making a mess that had not yet been cleaned up. Not far from this room is the passage that leads down to the door to the Corwin vault.

What was Corwin hiding in the vault?The Face Dancer wanted to know this, and the Assassin's instinct was to get as much information as possible, so she changed her face and disguised herself as an inconspicuous manservant in the house, and quietly approached there.

Corwin himself never wields magic himself, relying only on scrolls, as everyone knows. So the face dancer wasn't too worried about being watched by magic, and the average little mage snooped on her.

The staircase in front of the vault was in tatters, and the large stone had been removed, but most of the traces of the battle remained. The ground was littered with deep marks from the bombardment of powerful psionic and magical powers.

The door of the vault did not leave any scars, it was made of special materials and was able to resist most attacks. Seeing this, the face dancer laughed in his heart, what is the use of this kind of door? No matter how impregnable it is, the wall it relies on is just an ordinary stone wall, and if the entire wall is torn down, it can still invade the inside of the vault.

Hediocher placed a hand on the door, paused, and withdrew her hand in surprise.

Face dancers can perceive information about solid structures with sound waves, similar to metal flaw detection and seismic mapping on Earth. With this ability, Hediche was surprised to see that this vault was also a little too big, extending thousands of wrists from the back of the gate, and there was no end in sight.

It seems that this is not a vault, but a passage, a secret passage.

The face dancer didn't intend to invade the place directly, she looked around, and now there was no one, ready to go back the way she came.

"Ah, so you're here. Unfortunately, it backfired, and on the way back to his room, the face dancer ran into Prince Corwin. The prince appeared as if out of thin air, without the sound of footsteps, and just appeared directly, and called out to Hedicher.

Luckily, Corwin didn't seem to recognize the person in front of him as a disguise. After all, the prince can't read minds, and the face dancer's disguise is too perfect.

Why would Corwin, as a prince, speak to an ordinary servant? Could it be that this servant secretly had other duties, even the prince's henchman?

"Yes, Your Highness. The face dancer vividly imitated the servant's accent, and sure enough, Corwin was not suspicious.

"Hurry, Mirza," said the prince. "The two Tyrs are not there. We just went to check out how my secret base was. I always feared that my brother wouldn't have planned an attack and then give up, he was a stalker, a man who wouldn't stop until he got his goal. ”

With that, the prince led Hediciher and walked briskly. Looking at the direction he was going, it was exactly where he called the vault.

In the arena, the dust settles on the battle.

Muhadi wiped the blood from the corners of his mouth and looked at his opponent's corpse.

The true skill of the beard is unexpectedly excellent, and if it weren't for the strange abilities of Muhadi Silverblade, it would have taken a lot of trouble to win.

This silver blade was snatched by Muhadi from the Gisyankees of the astral plane. The level of psionic energy of the Gisyankees, Muhadi felt mediocre, but their weapons were exceptionally restrained psionics. Muhadi guessed that this might be a sign that they often had to fight enemies like the Psychic Warlock. However, it is not clear what kind of psychic warlock community there is in the astral plane, and his knowledge of magic is limited.

Yusuf Ghazi's body is dead, and even if he resurrects it with abilities like Psionic Cocoon or Cloning, it will be a long time later. Arrogant and self-defeating, Muhadi commented on him.

Although the battle was over, Muhathir did not leave the Psionic Academy. Because the opponent's unintentional words just now enlightened his thinking.

You are not the first person to fall here in seven hundred years. This sentence reminded Muhadi that since the Psionic Academy was founded by a puppeteer, then he must have lived here seven hundred years ago. If you look at the past of the land with your Time Mark ability, you may be able to see what the puppeteer was like back then, which will help you solve the mystery.

So the Psychic Warlock is here to unleash the timemark ability and peek into the past.

Muhadi closed his eyes, left his body, and melted into the land. Integrating into the river of time, he thought, incarnating as a sexist zài who crosses time. Suddenly, he saw a qiē around him and heard the sound of eight directions. It's a wonderful feeling, that is, you can see it clearly, but yet you feel like you're out of it. It's like sitting in a car and looking out the window of a car to see the scenery outside.

Then his vision broke through the barrier of time and saw the past.

The image of three psychic sorcerers appeared in front of him, one tall and two short, one fat and two thin, and the three of them attacked each other until only one was left, laughing in a pool of blood. Muhadi recognized this as the dean of the Psionic Academy from his youth.

It seems that this is the scene of the training of apprentices in the academy in the past, Muhadi thought, and then the image of the three psychic sorcerers melted away like the morning mist in the morning sun, replaced by a crowd of people busy and dragging large rocks to work.

This is the ancient people who were building the Ram Psionic Academy, and Muhati speculated that it was almost the time I was looking for.

However, then, Muhadi now found it difficult for him to see the situation for a longer period of time, as if it was not only because of his lack of strength, but also because there was some obstacle here, deliberately obstructing the snooping of psionic energy.

But how could a Psychic Warlock give up? This was the best chance to discover the Puppeteer's secrets, and the only place that Muhadi could think of of that would have haunted the Witch King's palace was the Psiorman's Palace. But the Witch King would not agree to let him snoop into the secrets of his court, especially since Abella Chili was a witch king.

It was as if there was an invisible membrane preventing him from continuing to explore.

Muhadi tried again and again, failed again and again. Just when he was about to give up, the diaphragm suddenly disappeared. Ancient images have reappeared.

He saw the squabbling crowds, the dead bodies, the dark sun in the sky.

The images flickered faster and faster, making the psychic mancer feel dizzy and confused. He didn't see the psionic apprentices who had been trained by his master again, nor did he see the scene when the academy was being built. Tall houses become rudimentary foundations, and foundations become deep pits, which disappear without traces.

Eventually, the land became an open field, with hundreds of tattered tents scattered across the clearing. Countless refugees from famine live in these tents.

For no reason, Muhathir knew that this was the scene here 700 years ago, but did the puppeteer really appear here? Could his speculation be wrong from the beginning?

These poor and humble people looked ragged and dirty. Their complexions were gray, their skin was dry and cracked, and their thinness made the joints stand out. There seemed to be no hope in their eyes, only numbness and misery. Muhadi looked closely at the people in the vision, and he saw that some of the refugees were bleeding in their stools, and flies had fallen on them, and they could not be driven away.

Signs of the plague are everywhere, and these people are waiting to die.

It is clear that about 700 years ago, there was a famine and plague in the city of Laham, and these people were supposed to be infected with a deadly disease, so they were isolated here by the Witch King and left to fend for themselves.

It turns out that the site of the Psionics Academy was once a gathering place for refugees, and Muhati wondered why the puppeteer chose to build his academy here.

He continued to watch, and the scavenging birds hovered in the air, ready to feast on the fallen man. The survivors were too weak to drive away these despicable flat-haired beasts, and could only watch their husbands or wives, parents or children fall for their food. Scavengers peck out the eyes of dead people, then tear open the skin and bury their heads in the internal organs of the corpses.

Animals feast on human flesh, and this is the end of the world.

He saw the refugees starving, eating geckos, eating cockroaches, and gnawing leather. A horse skin is a big meal. Some men and women secretly gathered together to draw lots, and those who drew white stones had to sacrifice their flesh.

The virgin's chastity was now only exchanged for half a piece of black bread with sand, and some husbands were forced to let their wives live with others in exchange for food for their children. Sometimes, people are even forced to chew on their loved ones.

Yet even in the darkest of nights, there is a silver lining.

Muhadi's vision was no longer limited by time, and he saw that as each day passed, the refugees gathered together to comfort each other. "'That guy' will come back," they said to each other. "'That man' won't leave us. ”

Every day someone falls, but every day the rest of the people use it to sharpen each other. Finally, one day, in the midst of despair, the refugees suddenly gathered, as if they had been summoned by someone.

An old man with cracked skin, a white head, and crow's feet at the corners of his eyes summons the refugees together. In a weathered tone, he told the refugees, "Our hope is not dead, it is back among us." 'That man' will help you!"

His words sent ripples through the refugees. "You're lying!" someone retorted, weakly. "I saw 'that man' crucified by the Templars!"

The old man with a face full of vicissitudes responded to the man's doubts with a silent gaze, and under the gaze of those old eyes, the doubters backed down and felt ashamed. He didn't speak again until everyone had shut up. "The man is really back. Come with me, you suspect that the crucified man is in my tent and will feed you all. ”

"It can't be!"

"If you believe it, it's possible!" said the old man categorically.

Shocked by the declaration, the refugees struggled to prop themselves up and slowly gathered around the old man's tent. They were numerous, at least four or five thousand people.

The old man told the refugees that the man was in his tent and was willing to feed the people and cure them. He went into the tent and stayed for a while to listen to the man, then he came out to face the refugees and demanded that they hand over the rest of their food.

Some people became suspicious because of this, saying that the old man was a liar and wanted to take away what little food they had left. If he was not a liar, why didn't 'that man' come out in person, but asked him to do the talk? Some people chose to trust, but the vast majority chose to sit on the sidelines, neither to take out what they had left, nor to leave.

In the end, the old man collected only five small, hard pieces of bread and two shriveled skewers of roasted lizards from the refugees, and he said, "That man" commanded, and these would feed you all.

How can five loaves of bread and two skewers of roasted lizards feed four or five thousand people?

The old man asked the refugees to line up to receive food, and he gave everyone enough to eat, but the five pieces of bread and the two skewers of roasted lizards could not be divided. Each refugee received food, and for the first time in days, they felt satisfaction and hope.

The refugees who had doubted that person bowed their heads in shame, and the old man said, "Look, that person will not deceive us, and that person will save us all." It was that person who tested your loyalty. The faithful and the wavering must be separated, so that those who are worthy of salvation may be saved.

Seeing this, Muhadi was shocked beyond words.

It's not uncommon to use psionic energy to conjure things out of thin air. What shocked him was the fatalistic meaning of this scene. Five loaves of bread, two strings of lizards. No, it can't be. Seven hundred years later, the psychic warlock subconsciously chattered. Five loaves of bread, two strings of lizards. It can only be a coincidence, an absolute coincidence, and it doesn't say anything.

However, in the bottom of his heart, there was a subtle voice refuting him. The story of five loaves of bread and two strings of lizards, almost seven hundred years apart. Is it really all a coincidence? Remember, nothing can be separated from the arrangement of the true God. There must be a deep meaning behind every thing. You can't refuse to follow the path you've ordained.

Muhadi's heart was in turmoil, and he could only barely suppress it, and continue to watch the old events of 700 years ago.

As soon as the old man finished speaking, the curtain of the tent was lifted from the inside, and "the man" came out of the tent. A black polkada burqa, revealing only one pair of eyes, a pair of sharp eyes.

As if facing the king, the refugees knelt down and looked at their saviors. Some people shed tears of excitement on their faces, while the Atas do not shed tears very often.

Muhati was shocked again, because when the other party stepped out of the tent, his eyes looked in his direction, whether intentionally or unintentionally, as if the seven hundred years between the two were not at all barriers.

He couldn't see me, Muhadi said to himself, this was just an illusion I had created with the timemark ability, and it was impossible for the illusion to see me.

"I know some of you have seen me crucified by the Templars. "'The man' said. "That's not true, I tricked the executioners with my abilities and put the traitor who betrayed me on a wooden frame. ”

"I come back to you because I can't watch you suffer. "'The man' said. "For your sake, I will meet the Witch King. It's dangerous, I know. But if I can convince her, maybe there is a way to dispel the plague that has contracted you all. You can all be saved. ”

"Will you believe me?!" the man asked.

"Yes. The refugees shouted, uneven.

"Will you save yourselves? "The 'man' asked again.

"Yes!" "We do!" shouted the refugees again, much louder.

"Will you save your beloved, so that your wife will not be humiliated, your husband will not have to die, and your children will not be free from famine?!" asked the 'man' in the fullest voice.

"Yes!" the refugees cried. "Yes!" they cried out from their souls. "We will, will, will!!" their voices continued to endure for a long time.

The 'man' removed the turban part of his burqa and revealed his face. "Then I will win this qiē for you!"

This is the puppeteer, Muhadi thought, this is the real, original body of the puppeteer.

Goose-egg-shaped face, jet-black and shiny curls, firm nose and fair skin. Her eyes were blue, and a few curls fell to cover her forehead. She gives people a sense of steadfastness and does not compromise lightly.

The puppeteer is a woman, a beautiful woman.

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