Hammer Collar, Molten Iron City

After arranging Lynn back to her quarters, Raven set out on her way back to Hammerkeep. Having seen the power of the Banshee, the sorcerer would never doubt the future that Lin saw, a future in which the entire city of humanity would be slaughtered. In fact, for him, the life and death of the people of this city no longer mattered, and with Rin's promise, the heart of the cursed crow was never satisfied. And this satisfaction also gave him the courage to face the Hammer Grand Duke again.

Thinking of the dwarven duke, the sorcerer's brow furrowed unconsciously. To be honest, even when facing the Lord of the Grey Tower, Clarke, the Crow had never resisted meeting him so much. After all, although the meeting with my teacher is like walking on thin ice every time, the improvement of knowledge brought by each class is also real. And even if the Lord of the Grey Tower sometimes seems moody, as the strongest spellcaster, his words and deeds uphold the principles of reason, which is not incomprehensible.

But not the Hammer Archduke. Spellcasters understand that there is a kind of people in this world who allow their emotions to be suppressed by reason, and have their own set of rules for their behavior. Such rules are more subtle than the strictest laws, and most of the time even they can't explain them. Such people are often artists, master craftsmen, or rangers, whose stubbornness is comparable to that of the deepest rocks in the earth. The Raven hates such people.

In the world of conjurers, it's all about the result. All processes can be worked, and if that doesn't work, then another way is the way to go, which is why even in the highly competitive Grey Tower, the Raven has no enemies. In the minds of his fellow disciples, his unscrupulous methods of doing things to achieve his ends were more fearful than the curses mastered by the sorcerer.

Dwarves and sorcerers, their principles are like ice and fire, and they can't coexist. This may be why the Hammer Grand Duke refused the Raven's help. But for Lynn's sake, he couldn't care about so much. "If he doesn't listen, I'll leave with Lynn. The sorcerer walked down the street, muttering to himself.

"It's not easy to convince that stonehead, boy. An unfamiliar voice came from the ear of the crow.

"Who!" the sorcerer subconsciously shouted, glancing around at the surprised passers-by. This is the bustling streets of the Molten Iron City, the sun is hanging in the middle of the sky, and even the shadows in the darkest alleys have to admit that it is the hardest time of the day to hide. But even so, in the perception of the cursed crow, whether it was the perception of the flesh or the force field of the magic power, he could not perceive anything. And the caster's self-confidence made him believe that what he had just heard was not an illusion, which meant that there was an unperceptible existence around him.

Cold sweat ran down the spine. The raven was frightened by the unknowable. But soon, he realized that he seemed to need to be so afraid, because today was not his time of death. The sorcerer reached out and straightened his hood, he didn't like the feeling of the sun on his face. The passers-by around the crow lost interest in the man who had returned to his normal demeanor, and they had their own business to do.

"Don't be afraid, little one. I wasn't going to hurt you, for now. The voice came from the raven's ears again, with a malicious laugh.

"Who are you, what do you want?" said the sorcerer with his head bowed, knowing he could hear him.

"Oh, wait, wait. It's not a great place to chat. If you're going to talk to me, then we'll have to find a suitable place. ”

"I think Fort Hammer might be good. There was a sly glint in the raven's eyes, and that time must have been enough for him to deduce something from the first words the voice had used to address the Archduke of the Hammer.

"Oh, yes, really good. Turn into the alley ahead, first left and then right, and we'll see you there. The voice was gone. The invisible voicer seemed to be very pleased with the sorcerer's speculation, perhaps because the small flaw was originally a bait he threw to arouse the curiosity of the other party.

The Raven was indeed curious, and he knew that if a person dared to tease a gray-robed mage like this, then he was either insane or fearless. And given that the other party seemed to be very familiar with the Grand Duke of Hammer, he tended to believe the latter. There is still some time before sunset, and the Grand Duke of the Hammer can wait a little longer. With that in mind, the sorcerer followed the voice and turned into the alleys of the Molten Iron City.

There are always a lot of alleys in the city, and although the people who built the city never set aside a place for them, these alleys are real in every city. If the roads with names and surnames are the blood vessels of the city, then these alleys are the liver of the city, and they swallow up the dirtiest side of the city until the ugly ones are large enough to break through the capacity of the alleys.

"I think now we can talk. Given my schedule, you must give me a good reason to stain my robes. Feeling the sticky touch underneath his boots, the Raven said, standing in the dirty alley. He couldn't go to the Grand Duke with the smell of garbage, so he had to change his clothes after leaving the alley.

"Why? I'm ready to give you a dozen of those things if you need them. "Two flaming fireballs suddenly appeared in the shadows in front of the Spell Raven, their positions about the height of the Spellcaster's forehead. It was a pair of eyes, a pair of burning eyes.

"Forget it, I don't need a devil's reason. Seeing such a pair of eyes, the muscles on the crow's body instantly tensed, and he could even feel his scalp contract due to tension. As we all know, the only creatures with such eyes in this world are demons and devils, and demons would never have talked so wittily at that time.

"But I'm not the devil either. So you'd better listen. The owner of the burning eyes stepped out of the shadows, letting the little sunlight shine through the cracks in the alley to illuminate his body. It was a man with his upper body exposed. He looked to be about thirty years old, handsome, and beardless. And to the crow's surprise, it wasn't that, the man's naked brown skin was densely covered with crimson stripes, like natural tattoos, and these stripes formed one eerie symbol after another on his body.

The sorcerer knew what this trait meant, and the person in front of him was indeed not a demon, he was a demon, an unclean descendant of demons and mortals.