When the first rays of light of the new day shone on the walls of the Molten Iron City, every soldier who still had the ability to make a sound cheered. Although the tide of nezumi had receded for a while, it was only at this moment that they were truly sure that this damn defensive battle was over, and that the soldiers and civilians of Molten Iron City had won their right to continue to live. However, not all of them relaxed their nerves, and on the towers of the city walls, Grand Duke Hammer and the people around him were waiting for the return of a killer.

"You seem to be in good spirits, is it okay if you haven't slept all night?" Picking up a steaming bowl of vegetable soup from the wooden table in front of him, Grand Duke Hammer glanced at the angry wizard leaning against the window and watching the rising sun. In Andrei's mind, spellcasters have never been good at protracted battles. This is well-founded, in order to recruit the talents needed by the barrier plan, the old dwarves have seen a lot of existences that can be called wizards, but these high-ranking and pretentious guys are all strong and powerful in the eyes of the dwarves, maybe in their energetic state, the spellcasters can be one against ten or more, but once they overcast spells, they will soon become drowsy and even pass out.

The Raven looked back, of course he understood what the dwarf meant. The sorcerer leaned his staff against the wall, walked over to the table and picked up a bowl, and although he was not mentally exhausted, his physical hunger could only be replenished by eating. "I wouldn't have had the kind of situation you were talking about. The caster should not always act as hard as a warrior, at least with enough energy to escape. If a guy hits him until he faints, he's either too stupid or too inexperienced to be called a full-fledged spellcaster. ”

"What about your fellow sir, Mr. Cheese, is he a full-fledged spellcaster?" asked Leon, who was sitting on the other side of the table, swallowing the black bread in his mouth. As for how he knew about the relationship between Cheese and Curse Crow, there weren't that many wizards in this world who liked to wear gray robes, did they?

"He?" The sorcerer smiled disdainfully at the corners of his mouth when he heard Cheese's name, "It seems that you have crossed paths with him for a while, and that kid has made a good impression on you?" The Blood Lion nodded, the experience of Saron Leader and Turbidity had convinced him that Cheese was a gray-robed man with great strength and vision. The smile on the corner of the cursed crow's mouth became even more unbridled after seeing the other party's reaction, as if he had seen something very funny. As Leon frowned at the wizard's laughter, the sorcerer finally realized his gaffe, "Sorry, I went too far. Hehe, but it's all you kidding me. Cheese, as for him, although he is strong enough in terms of theoretical knowledge and combat ability, but—" Cursed Raven said, spreading his hands, "just a fledgling who didn't even get his own insignia." As a gray robe, he is still very tender. If I were to compare you to this long-eared friend by your side, you should be able to understand it. ”

Leon's brow continued to furrow, his eyes looking suspiciously at the crow, and instinctively, the knight did not want to admit that the assessment of cheese was correct. After all, compared to the gray robe that appeared in the Molten Iron City, Cheese was more appreciated by the Blood Lion in both his actions and conversations, but perhaps it was intuition, the voice in the knight's heart told him that what the Cursed Crow said was not wrong.

"It's a mystery. Buckham rolled his eyes at the wizard as he drank the vegetable soup, he hadn't seen the other gray robe in the mouths of the two, but the elf didn't like this gloomy creature from the first sight of the spell crow, and Bakham always felt that the bloodthirsty expressions on the nezumi were more comfortable than the sneer of the spellman. And his ignorance of the gray robe made his muttering fall into the wizard's ears without fail. In this regard, the cursed crow just snapped his fingers lightly and did not say anything more. And the elf's confusion when he had to pour out the vegetable soup that had somehow cooled in his bowl was put aside for a moment.

The wooden door to the room opened. Maybe it was always open, because Rao was one of the few people in the room, and none of them noticed that someone had opened the door, and no one realized that there was another shadow in the room. By the time they noticed this, a heavy object had hit the floor next to the dining table. "Oops!" There's nothing in the world that makes that sound when it collides with the floor. Everyone stared at the wriggling mass of things on the floor, wrapped in black cloth bags, and the Descendant who was standing in the room at some point.

"Huh!" Bakham subconsciously pulled out his weapon the moment he saw Calus, and the undisguised murderous aura on the latter's body was suffocating. Leon stretched out his hand and pressed his servant, shaking his head at him, "This is a friend of the Duke, and besides, you can't beat him." The chief knight said. The murderous aura on the Demon Descendant quickly vanished, and he cracked his mouth to reveal two rows of sharp fangs, "Your knight is right, little one. I'm going to kill you, and you can't even touch the hilt of your sword. Buckham sat down angrily, if it had been a few days ago, this elf would have fought with the provoking him on the spot, but now he had learned from Leon the need to be cautious.

"So, what did you bring back?" asked Grand Duke Hammer, who was unmoved by the scene and sat firmly behind the table, putting down the wooden bowl and pointing to the Demon Descendant's trophy with his chin. By this time, the crow had opened a corner of the bag, revealing some long green hair. "A witch?" the wizard frowned, he looked up at Clarus, there was a bit of blame in his eyes, it wasn't necessarily a good thing to get a witch back, who knows if she was arrested on purpose.

"Rest assured, the little lamb is separated from his companions, and the best sheepdog will never find her again. The Demon Spawn smiled, his demonic blood gave the killer some special advantages when dealing with spellcasters, especially if they were defenseless.

The Raven pursed his lips, and after briefly confirming that the captive did not have tracking or any other magic on her, he pulled her out of the cloth bag by the hair. At this time, everyone realized that the height of this witch was not as good as Andre, who was a dwarf, and she looked like she was not even twelve years old, let alone an adult. "What a lamb. But it's a real witch. The Grand Duke of the Hammer raised an eyebrow, his head ring giving the dwarves the ability to cast spells separately.

The captive who was pulled out of the bag looked at the people in the room with dark green eyes, then took a deep breath and shouted, "Qili!