"Cursed city!" beclair wailed. "This turned out to be a cursed city!"

Robert was about to reassure him when he heard the whistle of the river wind.

"What's going on – Becleral, what do you want to do. River Wind asked, puzzled.

Robert grabbed Berclery and pulled him away from the crystal dome.

"I know," he said.

"Come on, we need to get out of here. ”

But how is this possible?

How could they be in a city that should have disappeared from the surface of Candela?

It is clear that the city no longer exists, a lifeless ruin.

But how could they end up in a city that should lie beneath the sea of blood?

How could they be—Robert looked up the corridor as he pushed Berclery out of the map room.

On the shattered marble, there are some words carved into it.

Some words that have once described the unimaginable, magnificent.

The words are now obscured by moss and cracks. But he could still read it.

"Welcome, O noble visitor, to our beautiful city.

Welcome to the city favored by the gods.

Welcome, noble guest, to Ishta. ”

"I've seen what you've done to him! you're trying to kill him!" Calamon yelled at Passarian.

As the leader of the last tower of the Void Master in the strange forest of Veles, Pasarian is currently the highest-ranking mage on Candela.

For the twenty-year-old warrior, he could break the old man in the snow-white robe in front of him in half with his bare hands.

In the past two days, this warrior has endured a lot of torture, but now his patience has run out.

"We're not killers," Passarian said softly. "When he agrees to take the test, your brother knows what he's going to face.

He knew that death was the punishment for failure. ”

This trial is no joke, and if you don't have the determination and courage to do so, I think it's best not to disturb the peace of our Tower of Nothingness again.

"He doesn't know, he doesn't really understand," Calamon whispered, rubbing his eyes.

"Don't be stupid, how could he not have known? It was Rodrith who asked for this trial? not because of my words or anything else. The old mage said disdainfully.

"Even if he really understands, he doesn't care. There were times when his love of magic had confused his mind. ”

"Love? Pasarian smiled sadly, "I don't think that can be called love. ”

"Well, whatever you want," Calamon murmured. "He doesn't understand what you're going to do with it! You're all too serious—"

"Of course it should be," Passarian whispered.

"Warrior, if you don't know how to use a sword and are in a hurry to go to the battlefield, what will happen to you?"

Calamon frowned. "Don't change the subject—"

"What will happen?" asked Passarian.

"I'm going to be killed," Calamon repressed, for he felt that the old man in front of him had become a little naïve.

"Now—"

"Only you will die," Pasarian continued, "and your companions, those who trust in you, may also die because of your lack of ability?"

"Yes," Calamon said impatiently, trying to keep asking.

Then he paused, silent for a moment.

"You know what I mean," Pasarian said softly.

"We don't ask anyone who knows how to use magic to take this quiz.

There are many people who are gifted with magic and can live their lives by relying only on the most basic magic taught in school.

These are enough to make their daily life very good, which is what they want.

But sometimes, there will be people like your brother.

For him, magic is more than just a tool to help him live. For him, magic is life.

He wanted more. He wants knowledge and abilities that can become dangerous.

It's dangerous not just for the mage, it's for those around him.

Therefore, we require that all mages who want to enter the true highest level of magic must take this test and devote themselves to this test.

In this way, we weed out the ...... that were not capable."

"You've done everything you can to knock out Rodrith!" roared Calamon.

"It's not that he's incompetent, but he's weak now, even injured, maybe dying!"

"Yes, he's not incapable. On the contrary, your brother is doing very well.

He has defeated all his enemies. He's like a real expert in control. It's almost too professional. Pasarian looked thoughtful. ”

I don't know if anyone is already interested in your brother. "I don't know," Calamon's voice was full of determination. "I don't care. All I know is that I'm going to stop these things, right now. “

"You can't. We will not allow you to do that. His life is not dying—"

"There's no way you can stop me!" Calamon said coldly. "Magic? It's just a trick to entertain children, and it has no real power!

Phew, it's not worth risking your life for this. "Your brother believes it's worth it. Passarian said softly.

Do you want me to show you how much he believes in magic? Do you want me to show you true power?"

Ignoring Pasaryan, Calamon took a step forward, ready to put an end to his brother's suffering.

That was his last step, at least for a while.

He found himself unable to move, his feet as if they were frozen in ice. Fear gripped Karamon.

It was the first time he had been enchanted, and the feeling of helplessness completely under the control of someone else was more terrifying than facing six goblins with axes.

"Look. Pasarian began to chant strange incantations. "I'm going to show you what might happen......"

Calamon suddenly found himself in the Tower of the Void Master, and he blinked in surprise.

Ground walked through those doors, through the strange walkway!

The sight was so real that Calamon looked down at his body in fear, afraid to find that it had disappeared. But the body is still there.

He seems to have lived in two different places for the same amount of time – True Power.

The warrior began to sweat and suddenly felt a chill.

Karamon, Tari's Karamon is looking for his brother.

He kept wandering around empty rooms and hallways, calling out to Rodrith.

Finally found him.

Young mage, lying on the cold stone floor.

Blood flowed from the corners of his mouth. Beside him is a dead dark elf, a masterpiece of Rodrith's magic.

But the price is terrible. The young mage seemed to be dying.

Calamon ran forward and picked up his weak brother with his strong arms.

Ignoring the pleas of Rodrith to let him stay in a faint protest, the warrior began to help his brother out of the evil tower.

Even at the cost of his life, he was going to take Rodlis away from the tower.

However, just as they came to the door leading to the outside of the tower, a ghost appeared in front of him.

Another quiz, Calamon thought heavily. Well, this quiz doesn't need Rodrith to take it.

He gently put his brother down, and the warrior turned to face this final challenge.

What happened next made no sense. Calamon kept blinking. He saw himself cast a spell.

He dropped his sword, held a strange thing in his hand, and began to recite a spell he didn't understand at all.

Lightning shot out of his hand, and the ghost screamed and vanished.

The real Calamon looked at Passarian in bewilderment, but the mage just shook his head and pointed to the shaking image in front of Karamon's eyes without saying a word, motioning for him to continue.

Calamon was frightened and confused, but turned back to continue looking. He saw Rodrith slowly stand up.

"How did you do that?" said Rodrith, leaning his back against the wall.

Calamon didn't know. How could he possibly do something that his brother had spent more than a dozen years learning?

But the warrior heard himself utter an explanation that he did not understand. Calamon saw the pained and struggling look on his brother's face.

"No, Rodrith. The real Calamon shouted. "It's a scam! It's this old guy's scam! I can't do it. I'm not going to steal your magic, never!"

But Calamon's apparition swaggers to "save" his brother from his own evil.

Rodrith raised his hand and pointed at his brother. But not to hug him. Wrong.

The young mage, scarred and exhausted, was consumed by jealousy.

Begin chanting the last spell, the last spell that drains his power.

Rodrith's hands erupted in flames, and the flames of magic rushed forward, enveloping his brother.

Calamon watched in horror as his image was engulfed in flames, speechless in astonishment...... He watched as his brother collapsed on the cold ground.

"Don't!

Cold, gentle hands touched his face. He could hear the voices, but he couldn't understand what they were saying.

If he wanted to, he would be understandable.

But he didn't want to understand that at this moment, his eyes were closed.

He could have opened them, but he refused to do so. Opening his eyes and hearing those words would only make his nightmares come true.

"I need to rest. Calamon heard himself, and he sank into the sea of darkness.

He was walking towards another tower, a different tower. The Tower of the Stars inside Sivanasti.

Rhodelis was with him again, only this time in a black robe.

This time it was up to Rodrith to help Calamon, and yes, no one could save him.

The tall warrior was seriously wounded. The wound on his shoulder that almost cut off his hand was bleeding constantly.

"I must have to rest. Calamon said again, like a lament, like a cry......