At Camp Rog, the sky was overcast and the rain was dripping. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

People are always reluctant to go out on rainy days, walking on sparsely populated streets, and their unhurried footsteps stop in front of several fighters.

The water stains reflected the figure in a damp, shabby coat, a necromancer.

Blue-gray eyes swept slightly, and his voice was low.

"Take me directly to Lord Araka."

Lifting his rain-soaked chin, his messy beard was of different lengths, and his attitude was a little arrogant.

Necromancers are notoriously quirky, after all, they have always been in the company of corpses.

The same goes for the only heroic necromancer in the camp, "Andy Earth", who sometimes stares at his companions in a daze, which is creepy.

"Who are you?"

The armored warriors are not professionals, but they can also feel the surging magic of the people in front of them.

"It's been a long time."

The necromancer looked reminiscent, and his voice paused, "My name is Hoff. ”

"Coming back from the Cold Plains, no, more accurately...

It's an extremely unfamiliar name, at least not in the past few years.

The armor-clad warriors looked at each other with a look of surprise on their faces, and the hesitation they showed was fully visible to the necromancer.

"Huh."

"Fool, how many necromancers can there be in Camp Rog's?"

"I'm a heroic professional when I set off, show me the way!"

"It's an order!"

He chuckled lightly and pulled out the rusty Professional's sign from his bosom, the crooked lettering on it resembling a tombstone, stained with water and blurred by the rain.

The sound of conversation was gone, and only the near-frozen gaze and the continuous sound of falling rain remained.

It's a terrible silence.

After a long time, the complexity in his eyes gradually replaced by awe, and a tall armored warrior nodded and saluted very solemnly.

Amid the sound of neat armor and footsteps, the remaining armored warriors respectfully saw off the triumphant hero.

"You believe he's, uh, coming back from the Cold Plains, I mean it's possible..."

An armored warrior maintained a respectful posture and whispered to his companion.

"It's normal."

Another armored warrior looked understanding, "A hero always needs some gimmicks to flesh out his legend. ”

"But the losses in the Battle of the Ice Fields are huge, just this man?"

"You haven't seen him, and besides, it's not advisable to talk about a professional. Compared to this, have you ever heard of the Burial of Bones? ”

"Uh, you mean the abandoned cemetery from earlier? At that time, the demonic erosion was not as serious as it is now, and it was we who used to place warriors-"

"Stop, stop, that's it. Your habit of needs to be changed. ”

"They're gone."

The armored warriors looked up as if consciously, the color of the water filled the field of vision, and thunder rang out in the gloomy sky.

The figure faded in the cobweb-like rain, and then slowly faded away from their gaze.

Scene Transition, Camp Rog Council.

The fire was bright and warm, and the makeshift meeting place, made of simple planks and adhesives, was much more lively.

There were three figures in total, and it seemed that they had been waiting here for a while.

"What arrogance!"

Clenching the letterhead in his hand, Kashya's face was displeased, and he casually threw the paper into the torch and burned it to ashes.

Dark ash drifted across her fiery red hair and anxious eyes.

"Even the shed has glory, if it is really to help us get our hometown back, why do you act like it?"

"In five years, the professionals outside the home have to go back and forth at least hundreds of times, and the outpost has no record at all, can Hove not eat or drink?"

She paused for a moment and lowered her voice, "The sisters have long provided information that his leather armor has fallen somewhere in the 'Icy Plains', and Hoff is already a dead man!" ”

"I'll find out who started it!"

Kasha was loud, his eyes full of anger, and he was about to leave, but he was stopped.

"Wait, Kashya."

It was the tall Varif who spoke.

The flame on the torch flickered slightly, and the shadow swayed with the sound of the rain outside the house, obscuring the little sparks on it.

Varref, she, Araka, and three important people, Inhofer's letters, gather here, but the person concerned does not appear.

"It's not like a prank to look at the handwriting."

Variif hesitated, took out the letter he had sent him, and studied it carefully.

Due to Kasha's restlessness, he was as calm as he was a little suspicious, but it was obviously no good to do such a prank.

"According to the astrologer at the camp, Hoff is not dead."

Araka raised his head slightly, and suddenly became a lot quieter, "There are traces of magic remnants on this letter, and non-heroic professionals can't leave it." ”

"We should trust him."

Her meaning was obvious, and Kashya stopped talking, and in the end, the anxiety on her face subsided a lot.

"I see."

She closed her eyes and returned to her usual calm posture, and Araka smiled at the sight.

The smile was like an omen, the hidden door was pushed open, the sound of wet footsteps sounded, and the corner of the coat with moisture and chill dragged on the ground, scraping damp marks.

The cloak was removed, revealing a mess of blond hair, and blue-gray eyes embedded in the emaciated face, revealing a bright light.

Variif and Kashya's bodies froze and they looked at them in disbelief.

The blue and cold rain outside the door has been sprinkled, and inside the door is the warm fire of bright yellow, as if there are two worlds.

Gently closing the wooden door, the strange sense of disparity disappeared, and the stiff face of the visitor squeezed out a smile, and his voice was low and a little hoarse: "The Rog camp has changed a lot, and I can't find it here for a while." ”

Dropping his soaked coat on a wooden chair beside him, he stepped on the creaking floor and walked over to Akara and half-knelt in a salute.

"Fortunately, Lord Araka."

Without waiting for the purple-robed nun to speak, he stood up in a dashing manner and continued, "I have a lot of news to convey to you, from the Cold Plains, from the Blood Wasteland, many, many more. ”

"If they really work, I can consider hosting a welcome for you, uh."

Kashya, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly spoke up, but was embarrassed to realize that what he had said was not quite right.

The welcome party was held for the triumphant heroes, but the grass in front of Hove's tombstone was three feet high.

After the site of the Icy Plains was lost, the burial site for the Professionals and Roger was moved to the corner of Rog's camp, and Hove's tombstone was moved as well.

"The Resurrection, I suppose."

Kashya quickly changed his tune, emphasizing the premise again, "Your message should have this value. ”

"Still, you're more than welcome."

Variif on the side spoke in place of Kashya, and he showed a hearty and nostalgic smile: "The hero has finally triumphed. ”