Muhadi tilted his head slightly, and tapped his chin with one hand. "What if I say no?" he www.biquge.info as he watched the other man's reaction.

"Then you will die at the hands of the Angel of Entropy. Ellen furrowed his brow, as if he had seen a lecturer with a naughty student. "The other forsaken ones will be killed one by one, and the Angel of Entropy will eventually catch up with me, which is inevitable, but Carly Jean and I will be the last ones to persevere." ”

Carley Jean simply shrugged, "I knew you'd answer that." Because Rajat himself would have said so. ”

The Psychic Warlock took a deep breath, "You think I'm going to change my mind in order to prove that I'm different from him?"

"So you do what the primordial warlock would do. Carlie Jean shrugged. "No matter how much you deny it, your essence will eventually control you. ”

Instead of almost continuing to entangle with the eccentric woman, the telemancer turned to Ellen instead. "Alright, then let me see this angel of entropy. ”

Ellen was overjoyed, and even the fluctuation of his unwavering thoughts rarely showed a ripple. Al-Muhathir felt that this was a good sign, or at least that his mental fluctuations were not disguised.

"I thought you were going to reject us. The scholar said to Muhadi.

"What I just said was 'what if' I said no. The psychic replied. "And I've made up my mind now, I do need any information about Lyra, and it doesn't hurt to delay it for a few days. ”

"Also," Muhati said, looking at Kalijin. "It's an added bonus to let her guess a little wrong. ”

"You won't regret your decision today. Ellen said to the Psychic Warlock. "We'll make the necessary preparations right away, and then we'll do the ritual right away. ”

"Rituals, you say?" Muhadi raised an eyebrow. "You didn't mention it before. ”

"A ritual to summon the Angel of Entropy. Ellenn, who has always been a scholar, explained. "It's not easy to dodge it, but it's easy to summon it. Since you agreed to help, wouldn't it be nice for us to waste our time and just do it here?"

"Looks like you're prepared. Mohamad commented. "What are you going to do if I don't agree?"

"Finish the ceremony as it is. This time, it was Carley Jean answering the Psychic Warlock's question. "But this time we will flee as soon as we complete the ritual, and the summoned Angel of Entropy will be drawn to you...... You'll end up fighting it, but you won't have a helper by the time. ”

The Psychic Warlock looked up and down at Carly Jean and the strange projections around her. "You're more honest than I thought. ”

"If you stay in touch with me for a long time, you will find that I am honest and trustworthy. The strange woman chuckled. "We'll be performing the ceremony in another fortress soon. If you need to do anything to prepare, I recommend now. ”

"Come to think of it, I'm really a little interested in the ancient relics in this world. The Psychic Mancer admitted. "I think a couple of hourglasses will be enough. Where am I going to find you after that?"

"Don't worry," Ellen said calmly. "We'll find you. ”

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The bazaar of Kavana's world is an eye-opener for adventurers and antiquities hunters of all stripes. Vendors are everywhere, and decent shops have hired a lot of men to shout at the door, "You must not miss it, friend!" "The relics sold here are guaranteed to be genuine!" "There is an adventurer who has found a lost artifact here, and now he has gone to the border world to make a Pasha!"

There are also many people on the road with shop signs, and from time to time they play tricks to attract the attention of passers-by. If someone shows the slightest interest, they will come forward and pull it out, and they will have to take the person away. Muhadi had to admit that in terms of their signature tricks alone, the ten acrobats on the Atas were tied together.

Less than half an hourglass away, the Psychic Warlock saw all the races on Atas. Hatas tribesmen in turbans, gloomy eyes, and desert robes. They always wore scimitars and daggers around their waists, and they always looked around vigilantly, even when discussing business. There are also muscular Muers, most of whom wear open-cardigan, sleeveless shirts with bulging muscles that would be the envy of any man.

While there are elves and dwarves in other worlds, the race on Athas can be seen at a glance to distinguish them from their close relatives. They walked in a hurry, always wearing turbans that shaded the sun, covering their pointed ears and other obvious elven features. In fact, Muhadi had heard that the elves of Atas tended to refer to the elves of other worlds collectively as "Jabi'a-Anas", which means sword-eared pariahs. Because they don't wear a headscarf, and they are sissy and like to pretend, they simply tarnish the reputation of the Atas elven tribe for their fearlessness.

Halfling merchants, and even mantis mercenaries can be seen in this world. The Psychic Warlock couldn't help but sigh that these adventurers seemed to be everywhere, almost as if they had grown straight out of the floor of a bar or smoke hall.

Some of the Athas saw the Psychic Warlock and seemed to notice something, stopping and whispering. Muhadi's psionic powers could detect the confusion in the minds of these people, but he had no intention of revealing his identity, at least not here. Therefore, he never took off the square scarf that covered his face.

But the Atas make up less than a tenth of the rest of the world. The cults of the entire multiverse seem to flock here in search of a foothold, and its natives are everywhere.

Upon closer inspection, Muhadi found that the indigenous races of this world were similar to humans, and except for a slight difference in size and skin color, they could almost be regarded as a subspecies of Atas humans. The strange peculiarity of the entire multiverse, the fact that races from different worlds are almost identical and not reproductively segregated, seems at first glance to be a blatant mockery of evolution, and I wonder how the Starch Spencer Druid explained these problems.

The Psychic Warlock derives his thinking tentacles, finds the most luxurious tent in the Bazaar, and walks in. Its owner had gone to great lengths to embroider intricate patterns and passages from the scriptures on the tent, which was decorated with many strange flags, some of which belonged to the famous merchant families of Attas, some of whom he did not recognize.

The largest of these flags has a pure black background, with two lines of signatures of dragons flying and phoenixes dancing on top and a horizontal scimitar below. The banner itself was unknown to the Psychic Warlock, but he was familiar with its signature—it was signed by Corwin, Prince of Ram City.

The two Moorish guards guarding the gate separated their spears and let the psychic pass.

The space inside the tent looks bigger than the outside, but there aren't many guests patronizing it, and a few adventurers are begging a pot-bellied merchant to buy the relic they've just found from this world.

A middle-aged man who looked like a deacon walked towards the Psychic Warlock, who smelled like a peach, was dressed in a sand robe and a painted waistcoat, and had straw sandals woven from some kind of spice plant under his feet, and the whole person was fragrant. "Welcome, noble lord," his Athas accent was thick, and he didn't seem to be an Atas. "We have here all kinds of goods for you to admire, the rarest and rarest relics, the most powerful and incredible wonders, and the collections that are thousands of years old...... You see, our merchants here sell all kinds of goods. I have a hunch that you'll find what you're looking for here. ”

Muhadi did not answer immediately, his eyes swept over the merchants in the tent, and it seemed that each of them dealt in a particular commodity.

The smile on the face of the man who stepped forward to greet him did not diminish in the slightest, but he still muttered in his heart when he saw that the Psychic Warlock seemed unmoved, just looking at the merchants and customers here. Look at our goods, he thought to himself, don't look at those people, we only sell goods, not people.

The Psychic Warlock looked at the man and asked, "I've noticed the good merchants and their stalls here, but I'm a little curious, what are you selling here? You don't have any of these stalls' coats of arms or insignia on you. ”

The shock in that man's heart couldn't even hide his excellent cultivation. "I am an agent of the Iron Fund, in the service of the noblest and richest of the Lords of Corwin, the emirs of A. Hiranika and A. Tijana, the Pasha of Grastan and Badilstan, and the prince of the city of Atas New Ram. ”

"And what is your duty?" asked the Psychic Warlock again.

"Uh," the man paused, surprised at the other's ignorance. "I'm in charge of overseeing transactions and confirming money flows. My lord. ”

"Since the Great Expedition, more and more loot has been plundered from the worlds, and more and more treasures have been unearthed. As a result, including the Holy Star Attas, the money is not enough. The man went on to explain. "Originally, there was a shortage of metal on the Holy Star, and for the great conquest, even all the gods and metal coins in the newly occupied world were dissolved to forge swords and magic ships, so no one took the money to buy things. And now there are too many artifacts, some of which are worth tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of Tyr gold coins, so they can't carry them to do business. Therefore, the payment link was simply omitted, and everyone kept accounts at the Chamber of Commerce under the name of Kowin Pasha...... It's complicated, but in a nutshell I'm bookkeeping. Otherwise, there are so many currencies in the world, and it is difficult to identify and carry, and it is simply impossible to do business. Your Excellency, you must have been on the front line of the Holy War, and you haven't been back to Saint Star Atas for a long time, and you don't even know this. ”

Muhathir thought about it, and it was really reasonable, he didn't think of this before, but he was negligent.

"I see," said the Psychic Warlock. "So who sells the oldest Kavana antique in the world, and it doesn't matter how much it costs. Muhathir already had a vague plan in mind.

"Over there, the businesswoman Jahanna specializes in antiques, some of which date back to the Second or Third Age of this world. The man finished his introduction and suddenly warned. "But beware, she hates the Athas. ”

Muhati was a little surprised, "Why, doesn't she look like an Atass?"

"yes, and so does her dad. The middle-aged man who acted as the bookkeeper approached and said in a low voice, the smell of perfume on his body became strong and smoky. "It is said that her father used to be the most famous doctor on Attas...... But he was ordered by the most noble and powerful of the Lords of Fatuma, the Khan of the Khans, the Chiefs of the Believers, to gouge out his eyes, so that he could no longer see. Pull out the tongue so that he can no longer speak. Chop off ten fingers so that he can no longer write. And with the most powerful psychic and mage curse, he destroyed his consciousness so that he could not be read minds. Even if you use magic to restore or kill the ghost, you can't spit out half a word. Then Master Fatoumah rewarded him with a fortune that rivaled his country, and his daughter moved here, and with that money she started a successful business, and hated the Athas. ”

"Then Fatoumah...... Why did she do this to her father, and then reward him with a large sum of money?" asked the Psychic Mancer. "What's the purpose of doing this?"

"It is said that he was the one who delivered the birth of the noblest and most powerful of lords, Lord Fatoumah, and the scene was so extraordinary that the other healers were helpless, not even the court mages and psionics. So, he saw what Master Fatoumah was like. The bookkeeper said this, and even he was startled. Hurriedly waved his hand. "It's all speculation, and no one knows exactly why. ”

"That does sound excessive. Hearing this, Muhadi was silent for a moment, and then commented. "But like you said, it's just speculation. (To be continued.) )