"We're close!"

Tearing their underwear and bandaging the wound on Kranvo's chest at midnight, they were guided by Caitland to break through the obstacles of the past few days and finally enter the Kilgafra Fort.

It was a magnificent fortress with stables, gardens, courtyards, servants' quarters, vegetable cellars, blacksmiths' shops, servants' quarters, barracks, dining rooms, main forts, meeting rooms, side halls, prayer rooms, and temples, and it was a small city, but Caitland's guidance could only indicate a general direction, and upon entering the fortress, chaos began to fail.

Therefore, it is obviously extremely difficult to find the room where Mystra is being held in such a large area - and there must be a powerful Bane cultist in that room, if not even more powerful.

"Alright, let's move on!"

After bandaging the wounds, the rescue team moved on – they would follow the stables, the gardens, the courtyards, and so on, starting the search from the most unlikely place, and of course the safest place - only that the search would take more time again.

"Step, step, step, step......"

The sound of empty footsteps echoed through the stables, which were large in Kilgefra Fort - basically the equivalent of an ordinary negative villa, but the interior was now empty, no horses survived there, but there was a somewhat rancid smell in the air.

"Midnight!"

With a few words, the latter immediately cast a spell, and a light invisible to ordinary people surrounded the entire stable, and began to probe—only to finally Midnight shook her head, and the spell did not give her the result she wanted.

On the other hand, however, Ciric made a gratifying discovery - in the room where the coachman of the stables was resting, he found a bookshelf - a shelf full of books was not unusual, but it was rather strange to appear in the room of the coachman of the stables - in this world, most of the lower people have no access to books, and it is basically impossible for a stable coachman to have a whole shelf of books.

"Hey, look what I found!"

Ciric's fingers slid over the books on the shelves, then rested on the last book on the top floor of the shelves, and he slammed them, but nothing happened.

"Cranvo!"

Hearts were connected, and Cranvo immediately stepped forward, his thick hand grasped the book and lifted it violently, and immediately a crashing sound sounded, and then under him, a dark and deep hole appeared—but he didn't fall—and a huge force field palm grabbed him.

Then, in front of Cranvo, the huge bookshelves began to move slowly, revealing a wide tunnel.

"Midnight, hang up the detection spell, and let's go inside. ”

With Cranvo laid down at midnight, Ayton stepped forward and slowly entered the tunnel from the side of the cavern - there might be a treasure room or a dungeon below, but there shouldn't be anything more terrifying.

The rest of the party nodded, followed behind Ayton, and cautiously walked into the tunnel—they were a good adventuring party in the first place, but they had been through a lot in this mission, and now they were an unusually mature adventuring party.

The tunnel was damp, but not long, and at the end of the tunnel was a torture chamber, full of rusty torture instruments with dark red marks on them—the dried blood of the punished man.

"Ayton, there's a mechanism here!"

This time Midnight's spell finally worked—after the bloodstained Iron Maiden, a wall fell like powder with the midnight strike, revealing a darker and deeper passage once more—this time led by Ciric, who marched through it again, and in this passage, Cirek picked up a dagger with a jagged handle and a pitch-black human figure carved into the blade of the dagger.

The passage grew narrower and narrower, and the rescue team had to crawl forward, letting the icy sewage drip on their faces and bodies, and then they finally saw the light.

At the corner of the passage, there was a small table, and a Dark Hand cleric sat quietly on a chair beside it, allowing the candlelight to be absorbed by the iron glove on his right arm.

"Ciric!"

With just eye contact, Ciric dived into the shadows - he didn't know why, this time the stealth was easier and more enjoyable than any before, he lowered his head and walked slowly, gradually approaching the monk of the Dark Hand who was sitting still - and finally Ciric stayed behind the monk, and with a single stroke, he could send the dagger in his hand into the flesh in front of him.

Calculating Ciric's pace, Ayton and Cranvo were also ready - as long as they counted down to three seconds, Cranvo and Ayton would charge, cooperate with Shirek to kill the Dark Hand Cleric, and even behind the two of them, Midnight and Caytland were ready to cast spells.

"Three, two, one!"

"Charge!"

With their lips squirming, Cranvo and Ayton looked at each other, and with a wild roar, they charged at the Dark Hand Cleric sitting on a wooden chair in the corner—part of a ploy to attract the Dark Cleric's attention so that Ciric could easily get it.

However, as they were about to charge in front of the Dark Hand Monks, their target suddenly raised their heads, their dark green eyes staring ahead, and a faint smile on their lips - this smile did not look like a human, but was full of a sense of looking down from above.

The young Dark Hand Cleric stretched out his hands, and with a slight flap of his arm, he slapped Ayton and Midnight's charge aside, while the other with an iron glove grasped Shirek's dagger with a slight clench, and finally he exhaled deeply, blowing the spells from Midnight and Caitland into a cloud of arcane dust.

"You are so lucky that you have escaped the guards of the fortress and made it straight here. ”

"But that's the end of it, meeting me is your failure. ”

Stumbling under their feet, Ayton and Midnight finally stood still, their faces flushed and full of vigilance—the enemy in front of them was terrifyingly strong, and they could neutralize their attacks with just one hand—such combat power was at least the pinnacle of legend, because they had faced enemies who had entered the path of legend, and they were not so easy and weighty.

Behind the two of them, Midnight and Caitland began to chant spells again—the spirit of the mage was far tougher than that of the warrior, and only after a little calm, they cast more powerful spells.

As for Ciric behind the young Dark Hand cleric, he held the dagger hard to prevent the weapon from being snatched - his arm was shaking, it was he building up his strength for a second counterattack. [.]