Light!

Blinding light!

Lance looked around in surprise, pitch black as ink, like chaos at the beginning of the opening, and the faint light source in front of him dispelled the darkness nearby.

He tried to take a few steps, but his feet were fluttering, as if he were floating in mid-air.

"Where is this?!"

He had no idea when he had come here, nor what it was, as if he had been there from the moment he became conscious.

"Hey, anyone?" cried out Lance, the boundless emptiness around him was alarming.

No answer!

There seemed to be only his breath left in the silent space.

"Poof, poof..."

Oh!

There is also the sound of blood rushing in the body and the heart beating violently!

Lance subconsciously moved closer to the light source, and emotions such as fear and anxiety could not calm the heart that was about to collapse.

"Poof!poof...!"

The sound gradually merged into a torrent, louder and louder! more and more intense! It was like playing a beautiful piece of music!

He stepped back in horror, merging himself into the warm light.

And then!

He woke up!

"Is it a dream?"

Opening his closed eyes, Lance sat up a little distracted.

Remembering the towering tall buildings that stood like a jungle, and the gray-white sky flashed with one or several dazzling meteors from time to time - it seemed to be a kind of vehicle called a 'flying car'?

In contrast to the sea of people rubbing shoulders and filling the lavishly decorated shops, the most prosperous part of the Raven City, the Kingdom Road, has become a black market in the slums.

Pity!

Before you feast your eyes on those beautiful girls in cool short skirts and full of exotic style, all this will be ruined!

Screams!

The sky and the earth cracked, huge rocks fell from the sky, and the earth tore apart one after another shocking cracks, devouring living beings like the mouth of an abyss.

When the mall's light-hearted notes are replaced by a shrill roar!

Lance remembered the beautiful woman, the woman who was desperately protected by his dream self.

"Who is she?"

Blood ran down his forehead, his vision became scarlet and blurry, and everything came to an abrupt halt.

"Nightmare?" he said, surveying the familiar room.

The small space is covered with luxurious velvet carpets, and the canopy, carved from a single piece of crystal, is refracted overhead, casting warm candlelight.

Lance stepped to the window and opened the wooden window, which had been locked to death, and the snow that had not dispersed in the north all the year round whistled in with the strong wind, blowing away the faint fragrance that filled the air, and shocked his spirit.

That's the smell of a fine whale oil candle from Winderholm.

The firewood in the fireplace 'crackled', and every now and then a mischievous spark or two exploded.

In the wind and snow, you can vaguely see the fire pit on the city wall in the distance, and there are guards on guard.

Everything is as it was before you went to sleep.

"How... Could it be so real?" a wave of sadness welled up in his heart, and tears ran down the bridge of his nose across his face and dripped onto the wolf-patterned ring between his fingers.

It was the coat of arms of the Stoke family.

Lance's expression darkened, and he forgot about this strange 'dream', closed the wooden window again, and turned back to pull down the bell for summoning at the bedside.

After a while, the maid Angel pushed the door and entered.

"Do you have any orders, sir?" she saluted respectfully, looking a little tired.

"What time is it?" muttered Lance.

He opened the wall-mounted wine cabinet, pulled out a half-filled bottle of wine, and filled himself with a glass.

"Two o'clock in the morning, my lordship—" Angel's tone was tinged with a hint of coquettishness.

"Well, bring me a cup of soothing tea. Lance commanded.

He took a sip of the glass of wine, and the sour taste made the good-looking eyebrows furrow slightly.

"Yes, sir. ”

Angel closed the door closely.

As she left the room, Lance casually shoved the bottle back into the cupboard, and the glass rested on the table beside her.

He rubbed his aching temples, pulled out the heavy, sturdy "savonarola"-style chair, and sat down on the reading table that was placed beside him.

The small note had been used for the most part, with dense and elegant lettering written on it, and a white quill pen rested casually on the edge of the inkwell.

It feels smooth to the touch, and the end of the feathers is still a little reddish, which looks very beautiful.

He picked up the pen and began to write:

......

I'm not going to ask for your forgiveness, I just want you to understand that sometimes a man has to do something in order to survive or be glorious – who's to say?

I knew for the first time that someone was looking for you and trying to kill you, and someone was looking for me too, those damn bugs in the shadows!

I've dealt with the people who originally sought out us in Ryan, but they have more men, and they won't rest on their laurels!, perhaps, until we die!

Anyway, now that you've made your choice, I guess my part of your life is over, don't come back to me.

Take care and have a safe journey!

Lance Ilketelin

Rolling up the note, Lance removes the candlestick and drips off the wax.

Instead of using the coat of arms on the ring, he patiently waited for the wax to solidify, gradually forming an irregular oval.

After doing all this, Lance changed to a lazy and comfortable sitting position, picked up a book from the bookshelf next to him, and placed it in the center of the shelf.

The intricate gilt lettering on the cover shines in the candlelight – Gregory I

This is a biography of a king, full of ornate sycophancy about the glorious life of the great king who rushed to the forefront of the battle line and drove the northern barbarians back to his lair in the Misty Mountains.

Of course, whether it's a fiery description of a battle or a troubadour's hymn.

None of this was the reason why Lance could draw it from that row of bookshelves that were stuffed with books.

He opened it to the middle of the book.

A portrait of Gregory I comes into view.

It was a majestic man, riding a tall horse, holding a long spear, and a banner embroidered with dragon patterns at the tip that seemed to flutter in the wind, fully demonstrating the heroic posture of a king and the exquisite skill of a painter.

The fingertips move slowly along a line of words below the portrait.

The king of Sarion is born of the purest blood, but the dragon of Livingston is born of flames.

—Gregory I

Lance fell into deep thought.

"Your Excellency?"

The voice of the maid Angel broke the silence in the room.

She walked in with a tray of steaming from the cups on it.

"Ah, just put it next to it," Lance came back to his senses and turned the next page of the book without a trace.

"Yes, sir. Angel gently placed the cup on the table: "Do you have any other instructions?"

"Go and rest. Lance took a sip from the cup, and the unique effect of the heart-nourishing herb eased his tense nerves a lot.

"Good night, then, sir. Angel withdrew with the tray, and before leaving, she couldn't help but cover her mouth with her little hand and yawn.

She must be extremely sleepy.

Drinking the hot drink from his cup in one gulp, Lance put Gregory I back in its original place and filled the fireplace with a few more sticks of firewood.

"Could it be that you've been too tired lately?" he muttered.

Lying straight down on the bed, covered with a quilt still tinged with warmth, his head resting on the soft velvet cushions, Lance trying to make sense of the message of the strange dream.

Then.

A very obscene voice suddenly sounded in his ears: "Young man, do you crave power?"

"Who!"

Pupils are constricted, and pores are slightly open.

Lance was startled by the sudden sound, and he flipped on his side with agility, drew his sword hidden in the compartment under the bed, and slowly retreated towards the wall in a standard defensive stance.

Cold sweat ran down his sideburns and dripped onto the carpet under his feet, instantly absorbing it.

Although he is not good at fighting, he can easily avoid the guards patrolling the castle, and completely block his perception, and even take the initiative to open his mouth close to his ear before being discovered...

"Hey, relax, I'm not malicious!"

Ear!

It's in the ears again!

Lance felt creepy, and with a reflexive swing, the sword slammed into the stone wall of the castle, sending out a string of dazzling sparks.

"No!

Without thinking, he rolled over, pulled out a delicate small crossbow from his waist, and shot it towards the top of the position he had just taken.

"Did you win?"

The muscles in his legs trembled slightly from the tension and the sudden explosive movement, and Lance looked at the empty roof in disbelief, a hint of despair in his eyes.

"Hey, have you had enough?"

It was that voice again, and it sounded in my ears again.

Lance froze, subconsciously wanting to act, but still sighed a little dejectedly, let go of his clenched hands, and let the long sword sink into the carpet by inertia, making a 'poof' sound.

"Your Excellency..."

He opened his mouth to say something, and his heart was filled with all kinds of questions, but in the end it turned into an unwilling cry.

"Ah!!h

If you know you won't get an answer, why bother asking...

These damned, bugs in the shadows...

"Your Excellency!"

It wasn't until Angel's exclamation woke him up that Lance came back to his senses from a marvelous state.

I touched my throat, and there were no scars!

The heart was still beating tenaciously, and there was no sign of being pierced.

He wiped away the cold sweat on his forehead, and for a moment he couldn't believe that he was still alive!

"Are you alright, sir?" asked Angel, noticing the long sword on the carpet, in a hurried and uneasy tone.

She was attracted by Lance's exclamation.

"Well, it's okay!" Lance showed a smile for the rest of his life, and hugged Angel into his arms with some excitement: "I just can't sleep, just vent my excess energy." ”

"Hmm..."

Although there were still some doubts in her heart, her lips were suddenly sealed, and the soft touch made Angel have no time to speak.

Her body trembled slightly and relaxed, she didn't mean to resist, and even had some vague expectations for what might happen next...