The scorching heat exacerbates the feeling of anxiety and thirst exacerbated by the endless yellow sand, and the air near the ground twists and turbulence under the midday sun, refracting a thousand strange rays, as if you are in a fantasy world.

Merlin Avery wiped the sweat from her forehead and squeezed her lips from thirst in a helpless way. "Mr. Magic Box, second bottle. He said in a hoarse voice.

"Quenching your thirst with a steel-grade alchemy potion is nothing short of a tyrannical thing!" a disgruntled voice came from beneath Avery Travel's cloak, "Immortal Tribute, Iron Guardian, Speedy Elixir and ...... Oh, it's a chronological disruption!Contractor, which bottle do you want?"

"The bottle with the best taste, if you really don't have it, then the most sour bottle can also be. ”

The Great Mr. Magic Crate, the Mithril-level Intelligent Alchemy Item, and Old Serin's Potion Crate paused suspiciously, and then replied a little angrily, "How do I know what these potions taste like? I haven't tasted them again!"

"Okay, then the speed potion, that is, the zinc-tin alloy potion, I have made a lot of finished products, and the taste is not satisfactory. Avery sighed, and then felt a sinking in his hand, and there was an extra bottle of alchemy potion of standard weight and high quality.

This bottle of potion comes from Old Serin's potion box, which is something that this intelligent alchemy item uses to lure others to trade, and the quality and effect are impeccable, but once someone chooses to trade, then at most two bottles of potion can be obtained from Old Serin's potion box, and the third bottle will be exchanged for his soul.

Without announcing the serious results in advance, few people could resist the temptation of steel-grade, commonly known as mentor-grade alchemy. It's impossible for ordinary people, it's impossible for molten gold warriors, it's even more impossible for apothecaries, and in the midst of Mr. Magic Box's gushing self-aggrandizement, Avery was surprised to hear a familiar name.

Mr. Deben Basten, the life honorary president of the Coventry Apothecary's Guild and the chief pharmacist, Avery originally thought that he was a grandmaster-level pharmacist who naturally broke through because of his strong accumulation, but it turned out that he had obtained three bottles of Mithril-level alchemical potion from Old Serin's potion box, and the puppet whose soul and mind were infiltrated and controlled by this alchemical item from soul to mind.

"Well, that's right, now Deben Basten's soul is stored in the body of the great Mr. Magic Box, and the contractor, if you want to use it, you must pay the great Mr. Magic Box enough. ”

This is the answer given by the magic box, and the so-called reward is an alchemy item that has reached at least the steel level, or an alchemical potion that has reached the Mithril level. In addition, the citizen points given by the guide golem of the wisdom city can actually be used as a reward.

"There are a lot of things that can be exchanged for citizen points, don't just believe in the waste materials trading platform, there are no real good things in it. When the crate said this, his tone was particularly obscene, which made Avery remember deeply, "When we return to the City of Wisdom, Contractor, I will take you to a good place...... Hehe, maybe you've heard of it, the Secret Gathering—have you ever heard of that name?"

Avery searched for a long time in his memories that were about to be forgotten before he remembered the name. "Ah, I remember, Mr. Magic Box, that's the name I heard from a citizen, and it seems like a very attractive place. ”

"Of course, the first assembly of the Secret Rites was convened by my maker. "To tell you the truth, I and more than a dozen of my brethren were sold and given away at the first ritual gathering, and in the end killed many of the Maker's enemies." ”

"Sure enough, it's capitalized, and it's not good-hearted. Avery smiled wryly as the crate continued to brag about his deeds. To be honest, if it weren't for the fact that his mental power had been severely traumatized when he was out of the spatial mezzanine, he would not have been able to contact the City of Wisdom for a while, and he would not have had to continue to trek through the desert and rely on valuable alchemy potions to quench the thirst in his throat.

After some self-diagnosis, Avery had figured out his dire situation. Not only was his mental strength severely damaged, but he was also overdrawn, and he needed at least two weeks of rest before he could recover enough to connect with the City of Wisdom. After breaking out of the space mezzanine, he was thrown into the desert more than a thousand kilometers from Coventry.

And it was surprisingly desolate, Avery had trekked for two days, and still found no sign of sapient activity, oases, camps, remains, ruins, nothing.

This shows that Avery is located far away from the desert barbarian tribes and trade routes.

After losing his mental power, Avery could hardly even activate the alchemy items on his body, not much stronger than an ordinary soldier, and he had little experience of hunting and living in the desert. Aside from the alchemy potion and alloy powder in his satchel, he didn't even have a water bladder, a tent, or flint and steel.

If it weren't for the fact that the crate could supply three alchemy potions a day and serve as an emergency water source, Avery believed that he would not have survived two days in the desert.

After climbing a sand dune again, Avery sat down tiredly and slowly poured the small half bottle of the Speedy Elixir into his mouth. The taste of zinc-tin alloy is definitely not sweet, in fact, few pharmacists pay attention to the taste of alchemy potions, and being able to purify the active ingredients and maximize the quality of the potions is the direction they pay attention to. There are many alchemy potions that smell unbearable, and there are even jokes that molten gold warriors are easily killed by their enemies because they vomit after swallowing them.

Anyway, the thirsty throat was moistened by the liquid, and after a short rest, Avery finally regained some energy. He raised his eyes and looked from the sand dunes to the end of his vision, the yellow sand was undulating like an ocean, the monotonous blue sky and the yellow sand sea were endless, there was no sense of grandeur, only indescribable monotony.

It's maddeningly monotonous.

Avery took out a little metal powder from his satchel and tried to invoke the spiritual power to catalyze, and the poor pure iron powder in his palm just appeared a layer of pale green shimmer, and disappeared because of a sharp headache. Avery was almost scratching his hair in agony, but two days later, his mental trauma showed no signs of abating, and the danger of lack of food and water had left him unable to ignore.

"If you don't get supplies by sunset tomorrow, or at least find signs of sapient activity, then it's going to be dangerous. Avery silently raised his cloak a little higher, hiding most of his body in the shadows, "I wonder if Mr. Magic Box, who went to find the way, could have better luck than me?"

An exaggerated burst of laughter rang in Avery's ears, and then he saw a black dot fall rapidly from the sky, and soon fell to the top of the dune, splashing yellow sand two or three meters high.

"I see it, I see it!" the magic box floated up from the sand pit, and the lid of the box opened and closed quickly, very clearly conveying a feeling of joy and pride, "a migrating desert barbarian tribe, not an army, but a tribe, with lizard mounts, livestock and tents, as well as old and young women and children, contractors, it is your luck to be able to follow the great Mr. Magic Box!" (To be continued.) )