"What—nothing, Calamon, I'm telling the truth!" Wade was taken aback. "He's- he's crazy!"

Belclery did seem to have gone mad. He didn't seem to care about the pain, and kept banging against the iron gates, trying to knock them open.

When that didn't work, he grabbed the bars with both hands and tried to pull them away.

"I'm coming, Angela!" he yelled. "Don't go!

The jailer's eyes widened, and he ran up the stairs alertly, and began to shout at them.

"He's calling the guards over!" Calamon snorted.

"We've got to calm down Bercleral. Lena—"

The girl had already run to Berclery. She grabbed him by the shoulder and begged him to stop.

At first, the crazy man didn't notice her at all, just rudely threw her away.

But Lena kept trying to reassure him, and at last it seemed that he finally listened.

He no longer pulls the bar, but just holds it with both hands in a daze.

His beard had fallen off, his face was covered in sweat, and he had just hit his head against the iron bar, leaving a bleeding wound on his forehead.

Lena was still reassuring Belclery, and had spoken almost all the meaningful words in her head.

Berclerc didn't seem to be listening, but at least calmed down.

He gasped incessantly, staring at the cells around him with empty eyes.

Wade noticed that the muscles in his arm were twitching.

"What's going on?" Calamon shouted to the dragonman. "You're keeping me locked up with this psychopath!

He's trying to kill me, and I order you to let me go at once!"

Wade looked at Calamon and saw that the warrior was using his right hand, quickly comparing with the guards.

Wade understood his gesture and tensed up to act.

He also saw that Lena was ready. One goblin, two guards...... They pass worse conditions.

The dragonman looked at the jailer, who hesitated.

Wade could guess what was going on in that guy's stupid head.

If this tall officer was a good friend of the Dark Girl, then she would not be too kind to a jailer who had killed her friend in prison.

"I'll bring the key," the jailer clumsily walked back to the guardhouse.

The dragonmen began to converse in their language, as if exchanging comments on the goblin, not very clever.

Calamon glanced at Lena and Wade and gestured to bang their heads together.

Wade rummaged through the package, clutching his knife. (They've searched his packages, of course, but, to help, Wade keeps changing packages from one package to another.)

That is, until the bewildered guards gave up after finding the same package for the fourth time.

Calamon insisted that the Cook's parcel be left behind, as it contained items that the Dark Daughter wanted to see.

Unless, the guards are willing to take responsibility—) Lena kept patting Belclery, and she kept murmuring.

Let those frenzied blue eyes reappear with a sense of tranquility.

The jailer had just taken the key down from the wall and was about to walk back from the aisle when suddenly a voice stopped him from the stairs.

"What do you want?" the jailer yelled, angrily seeing the cloaked figure suddenly appear without warning.

"I'm Gahan," the voice said.

As soon as the dragonman saw the newcomer, he shut his mouth and stood respectfully, while the goblin turned pale.

The key in the fat hand trembled uncontrollably. The other two guards came down the stairs.

The cloaked guy gestured, and they immediately stood beside him.

The guy walked past the shivering goblin and got closer and closer to the cell door.

Now Wade could see him clearly.

It was just another draconian in a cloak with a cloth over his head.

The Kand bit their lower lip in frustration. Well, it's not too bad right now, at least Calamon can handle it.

The hooded dragonman ignored the jailer who followed him like a puppy, took a torch from the wall, and stood firmly at the door.

"Get me out!" Calamon shouted, pushing Belcleral away with his elbow.

But the dragonman skipped Calamon and reached into the cell, clawing open the placket of Belclery's clothes.

Wade glanced at Calamon in confusion. The warrior's face was ashen.

He desperately tried to catch the dragonman, but it was too late.

The dragonman's claws flailed, tearing Berclery's clothes to shreds.

The torch shone on the emerald on his chest, making the entire cell glow green.

"That's him," Gahan said quietly. "Open the cell door. ”

The jailer inserted the key into the door with trembling hands, and one of the dragonmen snatched it from his hand and opened it himself.

All the people poured in. The other dragonman struck Calamon in the head with the hilt of his sword, causing him to fall, while the other grabbed Lena.

Gahan walked into prison.

"Kill him," the dragonman pointed to Karamon, "and the Kanderman and the girl. Gahan placed his paw on Belclery's shoulder.

"I will send this man to the Queen of Darkness. The dragonman looked at the people around him with a victorious eye.

"Tonight, the victory will be ours. He said softly.

Robert was wearing armor and sweating incessantly. He stood with Ella in a huge room leading to the main hall.

The Half-Elves are surrounded by Ella's own troops, including the Skeleton Corps led by the Necromantic Knight Ser South.

The soldiers all stood in the shadows behind Ella. Although the whole room was actually packed, Ella's dragon army had reached the point where they were overwhelmed.

But there was still a big gap around the undead. No one wants to be near them, no one wants to talk to them.

They don't talk to anyone either.

Although many people crowded here, the air was very stuffy, but if someone dared to get too close, the cold would still stop their hearts.

Robert shuddered when he felt Sir South's twinkling eyes look at him. Ella looked up at him and smiled, the narrow smile that had been so appealing before. She stood next to him, their bodies close together.

"You're going to get used to them," she said coldly.

Then her eyes turned back to the ritual going on in the main hall. The dark lines between her eyebrows reappeared, and she flapped the hilt of her sword impatiently with her hand.

"Ireakas, move faster," she murmured.

After the darkness, the first impression of the hall of Taxis is that the person who enters it understands his insignificance.

This is the heart that keeps the dark forces running, so it seems to be the right shape.

The huge room they were staying in now led to a majestic circular room with a floor of gleaming black granite.

The floor kept rising, forming the walls, and then turning into a twisted arc, like a frozen black wave.

It seemed as if those walls could come down at any moment, crushing all the people and monsters in the hall into meat sauce.

Only the power behind the darkness keeps them in place.

The black waves continued to rise, meeting at the edge of a large dome, obscured by a shifting pale smoke spewed out by the dragon.

Now that the floor of the hall is empty, it will soon be a crowd of soldiers under the command of the dragoons, assembled under the throne of their master.

The four thrones were about ten feet high from the shiny granite of the ground. There are several doors in the sunken walls, and outside them are black walkways leading to the two platforms, like evil tongues.

On this huge platform, two on each side, sat a dragoon, and it could only be a dragoon.

No one else has such glory, not even a personal bodyguard, who can ascend to the highest echelons of this sacred platform.

Bodyguards and high-ranking officers stood on the black stairs that jutted from the ground to these platforms, looking like small ants standing on the ribs of prehistoric monsters.

In the center of the main hall is a relatively large platform, which rises from the floor like a ferocious viper.

This is exactly what this platform is trying to do. A slender stone bridge leads from the snake's "head" to the door on the other side of the main hall.

The head was facing Areakas...... And a niche above his head surrounded by the aura of darkness.

"The Emperor," Eriakas referred to himself, sat on a throne a little higher than the surrounding platforms, about ten feet higher than the surrounding platforms.

Robert found his gaze involuntarily cast on the fireplace on the throne of Ireakas.

It was larger than any other alcove, and there seemed to be a living darkness wriggling within it.

It breathed and pulsated, making Robert feel unbearable and had to look away immediately.

Although he couldn't see anything yet, he knew who was going to sit in the shadows soon.

Robert shuddered and turned his head to look at the dark forces in the hall.

In fact, there isn't much to see. Underneath the entire dome is a space that is a little smaller than the fireplace on the dragoon's head.

Inside is a place for dragons to rest. Their figures were obscured by the smoke they were exhaling, and they could barely be seen.

These dragons faced the dragoons and looked at their "masters" in awe, at least the dragoons would have thought.

Why is it forbidden to record special knowledge about magic? perhaps because we are all afraid that such knowledge will fall into the wrong hands.

Of course, there has always been an apprenticeship system to ensure that special knowledge is passed on to those who have been trained and judged to be worthy of passing it on.

While such an attempt seems to allow us to avoid the unscrupulous sorcerers of the Esoteric Cult, it also ignores the fact that magic does not originate from this special knowledge.

People's preference for certain magic is either innate or desperately scarce.