"The miracle is not distorted. Jessica replied, confused, "I can't guess the will of God either." ”

Okay, that's not even the worst news. Morris couldn't help but sneer in his heart when he contacted all kinds of strangeness on this desert island: At least I can spend the world with beautiful girls.

His mentality has leveled down, at least for now.

Morris knew early on that there was only one word between a god and a god. But the gods were revered, and they patrolled the world and spread miracles. And the gods were spurned, and the ropes of the gallows had already prepared their place.

Lester is a god, and Morris is just a god.

If he abandons his aristocracy, he will hide in the shadows for the rest of his life, hiding from the catastrophe that comes from the open.

So he decided to see life on a desert island as a rehearsal for that situation.

Morris didn't hate Lester, and without his help, he and Jessica would have died at Lilith's feet.

If he was dissatisfied with Leicester before, it was only because of ......

It's just that he's in a mess.

After all, not everyone can be calm after being involved in the struggle between gods and demons.

Morris was just a small mage, and his powerlessness was obvious to all.

......

Setting up camp for the night was no longer a problem for Morris, and after he was able to mobilize his will, many things became much easier.

When he first woke up in the morning, he couldn't even light a fire on the fire.

And now, it seems that because he has let go of the depression in his chest, the high fever has subsided a lot. Some small tricks can be like fingers.

Right now, a little spark jumped between Morris's fingers, the heat burning his skin. He carefully controlled the cheerful elf to move between his five fingers, flipping his palms over to avoid his own magic from roasting them.

Fire is much easier to control than water. Still, without the aid of ritual, Morris could only light such a pitiful small flame.

This is the awkward situation faced by most human wizards:

They can give false souls to some dead things, but they can't unleash a fireball spell.

From a scientific point of view, the former is clearly more significant than the latter.

But the wizards of Tirell felt that this was normal. They have long been accustomed to their witchcraft and have advanced in the soul, fantasy, hypnosis, psychology, and astrology, far more than they have achieved in terms of destructive power.

Anyway, most of the time, the power of magic isn't that important.

Morris landed the spark on a dead branch that was used to start the fire.

Soon, smoke rose, and he lay on the soft sand and blew hard, and that little spark began to burn.

A much larger bonfire than at noon today was lit.

Morris breathed a sigh of relief, at least tonight he didn't have to worry about a beast attack.

But will there really be beasts of prey on this fantasy desert island, or will there be silver-horned elks and talking rabbits to guide him in search of the prophesied gods?

Thinking of this, he glanced towards the jungle in the distance. The night had darkened, and the darkness of the jungle had taken on mysteriously shapes.

Suddenly, he couldn't imagine what the fairytale back garden he had explored a week or two had looked like.

He had always been wary of the desert island, no matter how harmless it behaved to humans and animals, and even had a great deal to do with the gods.

The legends, fairy tales, and common sense that Morris knew told him that evil things like to put on a pretty skin.

Well, this law doesn't apply to Loman, and it doesn't apply to Jessica. They are beautiful and kind.

As for...... A female figure of his own blood suddenly appeared in Morris's mind, her nickname and figure dazzling.

As for her, Morris sighed, and it didn't apply either.

......

Dinner is still fish, this thing is the last thing that is not lacking on a desert island, Jessica's expression is gloomy, today's discovery is not a small blow to her, she has not improved the mood of the meal.

Morris proposed a rack for grilled fish, and when his will was mobilized, the trick of turning water into oil was not too difficult for him.

However, Jessica seems to hate this magic, and she has her own insistence on controlling the sea.

Morris could only give up the idea when he saw her look of disgust.

You can't eat delicious fish, and the taste of wild fruits is sour.

At about seven o'clock, Molis, who had a low-grade fever that had not subsided, sat on the beach and blew the night breeze, and there was a whimper from the jungle behind him, and the bonfire "beeped" and exploded.

The waves washed over the reef, and the fog obscured the sky and the earth, but the moonlight and the stars were clearly discerning, as if an invisible hand had lifted away the ancient shadows.

Morris no longer thought about the cause of these fogs, which was not something that could be guessed by the faint magic he cast.

He subconsciously closed his eyes and meditated, and these days he deeply felt the benefits of exercising his will.

He skillfully entered the illusion of his own creation, and the distractions of the present world turned a deaf ear, and those wills that were confined to the soul and rules were mobilized by him, and he danced in the strange vision.

It wasn't until someone called his name in reality that he came to his senses.

When he opened his eyes, it was Jessica standing in the middle of the water.

She beckoned to him, "Come here, Morris." ”

Her fair skin looked thinner in the moonlight, and the darkness added a mystery to her bewitching beauty, and when Morris saw the small navel under her bandeau breast, his heart could not stop throbbing, and before he had time to wonder, his steps involuntarily stepped out.

......

It's just a matter of cleaning the wound.

Morris took off his shirt and lay on the beach.

Sacred remnants danced in Jessica's purified waters, which she used to wash away the brand and arrow sores on Morris's left shoulder.

Morris's arm still couldn't lift, but the fingers of his left hand could stretch slightly, and she was speeding up his recovery.

Her melodious singing voice slowly trickled into Morris's ears, and she seemed to have mastered the method of suppressing the power of her singing, and using this hypnosis as a means of anesthesia.

But for Morris, who would be wrong, it was better to let him fall asleep directly.

He buried his head in the sand in embarrassment.

What the hell was I thinking?

He felt that he must be obsessed, so he had evil intentions, and regarded the pure and unbeatable Jessica as a bewitching fairy in the night.

"Drunkenness" – this is a general term for the after-effects of meditation by shamans.

Thinking and will, it is not easy to brake the car.

Inexperienced guys often have some cheerful hallucinations after meditation and lose their minds like drunken drunkards.

Thankfully, he didn't make a big mistake, Morris thought ashamedly.

Jessica behind her didn't notice the change in Morris, and she carefully uncovered these purulent wounds with her fingers, causing the ghost creature to scream.