Byron squatted down gently, stretched out his right hand, spread his palm, and the pool of silver-white liquid flowed, climbing up his slender fingers, and the unstable liquid state slowly qualitated, converging into a short sword. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

"You...... You're a knight in disguise!" The man fell to the ground in fright, begging for mercy and stammering. He could scarcely believe that he had dared to threaten a Constructed Knight.

Byron frowned, the Knights of Costume had been formed by St. Orso a year after the signing of the Millennium Covenant. That is, the year of the return of glory - the rune dwarves and hill giants who inhabit the Giant Mountains of the Silver Federation of the North have been driven from their homes by the constant flow of gray dwarves from the ground.

The abomination of the Fallen Grey Dwarves in the rune dwarven culture drove the furious rune dwarves to fight to the death, and it was not until the Dwarven King died on the front lines that the Silver People began to retreat.

And the Silver Federation itself could not give them the protection they deserved, and the entire Federation was under the attack of Qiao Gendegang, and there was no time for anything else. A group of rune dwarves traveled to the Radiant South, relying on the protection of the City of a Thousand Towers. A rune dwarf entered the Realm of Heaven.

As a result, the secrets of runic magic spread, and the first soul constructs were made by the rune dwarves and the magicians of St. Ortho, and the armor created by the unstable technology was not excellent, so the empire did not value these new types of armor.

It wasn't until the Greystone Knight, after Riok killed a Dead-Eye Tyrant who was close to legendary strength with the strength of the Silver Rank. The Kingdom of Heaven has invested countless funds in researching and constructing armor.

Nearly a thousand years have passed, and St. Orso's constructed knights have already become the top fourth-level formation on the continent, and each knight has the strength of the golden rank in itself, and the constructed armor makes them even more powerful.

Byron shook his head, the man in front of him obviously had a huge misunderstanding, if he had the strength of the golden level, he would directly break the iron fence and walk out slowly.

The man also stabilized his mood from the initial panic, and began to look at Byron secretly, and hesitated in his heart, those knight lords are not so young. In the Cyril Continent, if you want to have a strong strength, the precipitation of time is obviously the safest way.

Byron's immature face made the man breathe a sigh of relief, it seems, he made a mistake in judgment?

The door to the dungeon suddenly opened, and Byron shook his hand slightly, and the dagger turned into liquid, writhing like a snake and burrowing under his clothes. Ryder, who had lifted his mask, hurried in.

"You can come out!" Ryder rudely pulled the iron door of the cell where Rablon was, and then glanced at the jailer behind him in annoyance, most of the jailers in the dungeon were members of the guard.

The middle-aged jailer touched the slight sweat on his head, and under Ryder's extremely unhappy gaze, he hurriedly found a rusty brass key from the large bunch of keys strung together with iron rings.

As soon as the jailer's face showed joy, Ryder snatched the key in his hand. He wanted to cry and stand aside without tears, and he didn't dare to offend these security guards. Although he is a member of the garrison, but the young people with real potential are training outside, he is already in his thirties, it is too difficult to go further in strength, he can only shrink in such a dark corner, eat and wait for death.

He took a slight breath and stood quietly to the side, almost exhausted from running all the way with Ryder, the big man just now.

"May I go?" Byron breathed a sigh of relief, it seemed that Delrian was quite fast. Derian, who was being talked about by him, was squinting at this time, leaning back in the back chair, touching his cheek in a daze, then muttering a few words, changing positions, and falling asleep again.

"Let's go?" Ryder reached out and grabbed Byron by the shoulder.

"You're suspected of murdering Ms. Nela, now I'm going to take you to hear, come with me. As soon as Ryder put his hand down, Byron immediately screamed.

Byron was almost dragged up and down the dungeon by Ryder. The people who passed along the way hurriedly avoided them, and the young man even saw the young man with the guard standing to the side sweating profusely, looking at him with pitiful eyes.

The two entered a wooden room, which was dark and cramped with only one window, and a small wooden table and wooden bench were placed in the center of the room.

"Sit on a stool. Ryder put his fists together, and after a crackling crackle, a cruel smile appeared on the young man's face.

Listening to the screams coming from the news room, the two young men from the garrison walked a few steps quickly, not daring to stay in the vicinity for long.

"Who is it this time?"

"It's like a stranger, it's really unlucky. The team member shook his head, with a faint look of regret.

"Ahh The two glanced at each other and walked quickly.

When Byron was carried back by two jailers and thrown to the ground, he couldn't even make a moan. The guard, Ryder, didn't even ask anything, he was clearly just trying to torture himself.

Byron didn't understand that there was no contradiction between the two themselves, why did the other party do this......

He squirmed and leaned into the corner, the strange look of the man next door making him feel extremely awkward.

Day 2

Byron leaned against the corner all day and remained motionless, and the man next door provoked him several times, but he ignored it.

Day 3

Priest Derian finally fished him out.

The two walked silently through the alley, walking unhurriedly on the muddy ground that twisted between the houses.

"Can I go see Pastor Nila?" Byron's mouth opened weakly, his lips glued together and his brow furrowed.

Detective Derian looked at Byron's increasingly pleasing appearance suspiciously, and nodded: "You can see later, her body is parked in the temple." ”

Pastor Nila's body lay quietly on a white sheet, beside a small wooden bed, and flowers bloomed. The old lady closed her eyes serenely, her hands folded in front of her.

Julian shrunk in the corner, the tears on his face had not been wiped away, he just pursed his lips and stared at Byron who was sitting on the other side, his slightly bulging front teeth biting his lower lip with a trace of blood.

Byron glanced at the old lady expressionlessly, and took a sip of water from the bowl. His heart was full of sorrow, but it was also full of uneasiness. He didn't come here to mourn the old man.

And so it was. Byron savored the sorrow in his heart, licked his lips, and then frowned again, he liked this bad habit more and more.

He stretched out his white hands, his bony fingers slender and powerful.

Byron picked up a few pieces of paper that had been set aside, dipped a quill in ink, and wrote in lingua franca on the white paper, which he had carefully placed into the silvery liquid.

Then he drew a line on another piece of paper.

"Don't forget, Byron. He muttered, his eyes reddening slightly. Then he laughed to himself, he had never been so weak before.

PS: This chapter was written in too much hurry, change it tomorrow morning, go to bed first now, it's so tiring to move bricks ++