At first it was a gray mist, and they gathered and scattered around them, and everything seemed extremely dim and blurry under their cover. Pen % fun % Pavilion www.biquge.info

Deep in this gray mist, Frick has no sense of space at all, and his perception of time has become dull. Although some uncertain outlines could sometimes be seen in the gloom, they quickly disappeared, giving him no chance to look closely.

As time passed, he could feel his consciousness becoming clearer and control of his body back in his hands. For no apparent reason, he thought he was crossing a certain line, and as long as he passed through the wall of mist, everything behind the line would be unfolded in front of him.

For a moment, a strange sensation suddenly flooded his senses, making his thoughts seem to be slowed down by half a beat because of this feeling. In a trance, there was some kind of image-like intelligence projected directly into his consciousness, and then a subtle tingling sensation faded into the gray of nothingness.

Although the grotesque pattern only flashed for less than a second, it left a certain impression in Flick's mind that was difficult to remove. Its effects were embedded in the depths of his consciousness, but it was difficult to get him to recall the contents of the pattern.

The moment Frick's consciousness was taken away by this sudden flash of grotesque patterns, the gray fog around him suddenly disappeared, and the blinding sunlight suddenly spilled onto his face. When he finally got used to the harsh sun, he found himself standing on a street full of people.

It was a foreign street, and a crowd of people dressed in unfamiliar clothes passed around him, interacting with each other in a language they had never heard before. Just by looking at their appearance, it is clear that they are not the people to whom you are accustomed to the empire, but a stronger and taller people.

In fact, Frick was sure he had never seen such tall humans with an average height of almost three meters, and he wasn't even sure if they were the same species as himself. Almost all of them have fur like flames, and their skin is as rough as a rhinoceros.

Although demons are different from ordinary humans due to the genetic factors of certain mythical creatures flowing in their blood, these differences are not yet so obvious. In the age of cold weapons, a heavy infantry army made up of these people is sure to become a nightmare on the battlefield.

Of course, in order to accommodate the height of the town's owner, the masonry buildings that line the streets side by side also have a correspondingly large volume. And the four-storey buildings have a style never seen before, and the craftsmen who built them carved a wonderful pattern into each stone brick.

Frick looked around in confusion, and then immediately dismissed the idea - for while he was looking at the street with curiosity, several men who had hurried past him glared at him as he was in the middle of the road.

But there was one thing that struck him like a dwarf, even though he was a dwarf in the midst of the giants, they didn't care about those things. Even the fellows who glared at him fiercely only went further and further in a burst of incomprehensible complaints.

The sights in front of him may not have been entirely a hallucination of what he saw, as it was obvious that the people who appeared on the street would also react to his presence. And maybe it's because he has been standing motionless on the street for too long, and at some point it has attracted the attention of many people who are puzzled.

Even if he knew that these people weren't curious about his appearance, the feeling of being on the streets of a foreign country and mingling with completely different species still made him a little nervous. Perhaps this kind of behavior in the eyes of those who passed by him only made his behavior seem more abnormal.

"Actually, you don't have to pay much attention to their actions, although the concept is somewhat different, but what you see now is only a small fragment of the past. Your actions may cause these people to react, but they will not have the slightest effect on the course of their fate. ”

Just as Frick tore off and looked around, trying to find a suitable course of action, a familiar voice suddenly reached his ears. Turning his head, Dr. William Coulter, who had become as large as the crowd around him, was looking at him with a smile on his face.

He was wearing a different outfit than everyone around him, and the dark material, which was spun from unknown fibers, had a very soft touch. Especially on his chest, there are heraldic patterns dyed with primitive techniques, as if to tell the people around him that he has a different identity.

Even though he had become much thicker, the sorcerer still had the standard scholarly face, and even the clothes showed off his scholarly temperament. Frick could bite the bullet and bow down in a gesture of respect when someone passed by him.

"Ah, I know you have a lot of questions for me, but the streets are not a good place to talk, so let's find a suitable place to sit down and let's have a closer look. Seeing him in such a place, Frick's stomach instantly filled his stomach with countless questions waiting to be answered, but before these questions could be blurted out, William Coulter preemptively stopped him.

What he calls "suitable" is a four-story inn-like building, made of gray-black stone that looks old. It had to be said that it was a fitting base, after all, the penniless Flick could not even find a place to stay among the cheap clapboard houses - perhaps he would have to find a clean place to settle on the corner of the street.

This feeling was even more vivid when he followed Dr. Coulter's footsteps into the building, for the inn was also equipped with handicrafts made of wood and stone, and some kind of defiled fragments of its former glory could be faintly seen.

Perhaps the owner of the inn has undergone a gradual decline from the wealthy class of taste, so that the building still contains works of art from the past. However, the artistic taste of this people is completely different from that of modern times, and the abstract brushstrokes can only conjure up images of incoherent dreams.

The surprisingly tall rooms were decorated with furnishings that were not commensurate with the overall taste of the inn, and the simple stucco could barely paint it with a comical sophistication. At least the room was cleaned, and the smell of decay and glory faded a lot.

"First of all, allow me to exaggerate a little. ”

Sitting by a window overlooking a few nearby streets, he made a pompous gesture: "I'm here to say - Frick Sierra Leone, welcome to the Age of Mythology, a time thousands of years away from the year in which we live, of the ancient gods that are now long forgotten. ”

However, it was the words that came out of his mouth that surprised Frick even more than his seemingly exaggerated expression and gesture. It was beyond the odds, almost making Frick wonder if he had been hit in the head and began to babble nonsense.

In the age of mythology, many archaeologists have exhausted the ancient documents excavated from the ruins of that era, wanting to get a glimpse of the era that only stayed in legends. However, the information they have in their hands is limited after all, so the truth that can be recovered in the end is only a fragment.

There are too many legends about this era, but the facts that can be confirmed are only fragmented stories other than the "Twin Moon Collapse" event that announced its end. The relics excavated from the ruins are so precious that everyone is desperately searching for the things of this era.

And William Kurt now claims that they have seen the world in the age of mythology, and even walked through the streets that had not yet been destroyed. If this is true, then I am afraid they are now experiencing for themselves some truth that does not even exist in the history books.

Apparently recognizing Flick's suspicions, the sorcerer pulled over a chair and sat down, saying, "Ah, yes, of course I know what the term 'Age of Mythology' means to all of us, so I expected you not to believe what I said. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter if you believe it or not, we're just here to solve the problems that have happened to you lately. ”

Dr. Kurt jumped out of a few key points to explain the current situation to Frick briefly: Frick's ability can be understood as a kind of power to receive information, because of the influence of anomalous magic, the perception that was originally only slightly stronger than that of ordinary people suddenly increased explosively.

There are many reasons for this, it may be that he has a certain amount of potential in his own right, or it is possible that this power has always existed in their family's bloodline - for example, one of his ancestors was once mixed with the blood of Chaos, and was similar to a demon.

After all, from the source, there are more or less heterogeneous remnants of the mythological era in the bloodline of human beings, and pure human beings can almost be regarded as non-existent. After all, there is not even reproductive isolation between demons and humans, which almost means that the two can be considered the same kind of creatures.

In any case, under the stimulation of those potions, his ability to connect to the already fragmented intelligence allowed him to perceive many wonderful visions. The scene they see now is also created by Frick's ability, and it can almost be said that it is the deepest memory that has been deposited in the land of the North Gate.

"Ah, that's right—this is the last memory of the age of mythology, the point that separates the age of the gods from ours. "It won't be long before the two moons will crumble, and they will shatter into countless pieces, and the moonstones that fall on the ground will scorch the earth." ”

Immersing yourself in the information you absorb, and accepting all the benefits and difficulties that come with this ability, is the training that allows Frick to master it.