Day and night are fair, and whatever the land in their bosoms looks like, they always give the same splendor or tranquility, dazzling or cold, even to a city of sin.

The whiteness of the horizon gradually brightened the gloom in front of and behind the house, and they seemed to alternate whispers to each other, gently instructing the intoxication that had not yet dissipated last night, and the awakening that was about to come. In this silent murmur, a soft sound of the piano wafted, crushing the morning haze and playing lowly.

It's an old ballad, even older than many books that carry history, and it's called "In the Name of the Wind," and it sings like this:

In the name of the wind, in the name of the wind,

Let me tell you a story......

Over the rolling hills,

Skimming the dome of the jungle,

The children of the forest fly in the moonlight,

His arrows are like eagles that break into the sky,

He believed in the ancient gods.

He should have been happy forever, he should have been young forever,

Until that day,

The roar of the king of hell turned into thunder in the clouds,

The half-blood prince's long knife turned into a shadow on the horizon.

The black flames burned the tree of eternal life,

Crimson blood soaked the emerald well.

He gave everything he had, he gave his eyes,

He condemned the unforgivable before the gods.

I hereby rule that you will never see the light of the sky,

I hereby judge that you will forever be imprisoned in the ice of the deep sea,

I hereby judge that you will receive the years of eternal life to repent of the sins you have committed......

He took the rest of his people across the sea,

He wandered around with his surviving subjects,

ultimately

He raised his blade above his head in the depths of the Moonrise Forest,

He carved the stars of Quilinsna in the bosom of the blessed land......

In the name of the wind, in the name of the wind,

His name is 'Ostarian', and he is the original, the Wood Elf.

The sound of the piano flowed and sang a cappella. A young man sat in a small courtyard playing the Ronk lyre. His fingers are flexible and slender, like the spring breeze blowing through the branches, like a silver shuttle shuttling through cotton silk. His voice was soft, like a stream flowing through the fallen leaves in autumn. It's like a breath that blows next to your lover's ear. He sings, as if recalling the story in the ballad, and like salvaging the fragmented shadows in the long river of time. Slowly, the sound of the piano grew quieter, and his fingers drew the finishing chord. Let the last few notes melt into the cold air.

After a long period of meditation, the young man sighed and smeared a soft sound on the strings of the sheep intestines with his palm, and at the same time, the silent audience behind him sent applause and comments. "Good playing, little one, you should be able to make money with this, it's not much, but there are still a few silver tables down a game......" The half-elf leaned against the door frame, "But." I'll still say that you have a note in the chorus, and there is a problem with the ventilation node of the lyrics. ”

The young man turned around with the ronkeqin, and he had already lost the disguise on his face and revealed his true appearance. Her hazel half-length hair is slightly curved, and her plump and straight lips are slightly pursed, revealing a steady confidence. He has impressive eyes, bright and sharp, at first you will think it is blue, but as soon as you look closely. You will find that there is also a bright edge of silver echo inside.

Zar spread out his palms. "I'll consider your suggestion, if one day life is really tight," he said, "as for the rest of the matter." I remember the saying, 'Music doesn't work the same way to the listener, and that's a curse for all musicians......"

"Well, the passages from Rhetoric and Logic? Well, it looks like I should give you some new lessons. The half-elf said in his own way of revenge. Soon, the young man's smile fell. "I gave up, I admit that I played it wrong, to be exact, it was a finger that slipped down......"

The half-elf gave a victorious expression. "I said, no one can fool the ears of Cadius, no one!" he said with a strange laugh, and turned and walked into the cabin, and Zar followed.

Putting away the ronkeqin, and when Zar returned to the living room with his money bag from last night, the half-elf had already buttered the barley bread, and had prepared himself a glass of mead, and a piece of smoked fish. Zar and Cadius had tactfully discussed the tradition of the Wood Elves never eating meat, but the explanation given by the other was simple - eating them was also a way to respect life.

"Mission accomplished, did it go well last night?" said the half-elf, glancing at Zhal.

Placing the money bag on the table, Zar sat down and took half a slice of bread from a shallow wooden plate. "It went well, all four of them were killed, and I was slashed in the shoulder. He gestured to the injured position, "An elf, very fast. ”

"Is it serious?" asked Cadius with a sip of his drink, though he seemed to ask only symbolically.

Zar moved his shoulders. "Fortunately, the wound is straight and clean, and it is estimated that only a thin white line will be left in the end. ”

"Ha, it looks like you've got another conversation point to seduce the little girl......" The half-elf sarcastically said, with a hint of anger in his voice. Well, Zar knew this kind of precursor very well, and sure enough, the half-elf continued: "Four unincompromising thieves, this task is like a pie falling from the sky, and you? It took you nearly two months, and you were almost stoned to death by a pie! For Gorintia's sake, as your mentor, I even want to break my own neck!"

"Ahem...... Zar coughed, picking up the mead and taking a sip, "Swear in the name of Gorintia that it's not easy to get these four guys together. "They were so cautious that I wouldn't have been able to get close to them if it weren't for their appetite for eating old Guimo's nineteen bags of silver." ”

The half-elf listened, rolled his eyes in disdain, and then asked, "With this honorarium, where can you rank?"

After a rough estimate, Zal gave a figure. "I could mention a few, but not much," he said, "I'm afraid it's still more than two hundred." ”

The half-elf immediately showed a gloating expression. "Or two hundred?" he shook his head with some dissatisfaction, "You're too slow......"

"Are you talking about my killing speed......" Zar had a feeling of a brain short-circuit, and he wanted to say that the guys on the mission were not pigs tied to a chopping board, and they could be roasted and boiled if you wanted. But he wisely chose a relatively mild way of expressing it. "Eighteen months and twenty-two days, my teacher, I have killed more than two hundred from outside the list, for Somu's sake. I'm even dreaming of killing......" said Zal, drawing a triangle on his chest, "and for me now, even if I go to church to confess, I'm afraid that my sins will shatter the stained glass on the ceiling!"

"Poof...... Hahaha......" The half-elf squirted the wine directly from his mouth. Laughing and putting the cup on the table, "You little fellow, do you think you can still go to the Church of Order to confess? Forget it, okay!" he said, "Next time, don't swear by a god who has nothing to do with you, thank you!"

Zar smiled, too, though he did talk to the half-elves about the Chaos Lord, because in the past four years, the power of Chaos that the Chaos Prophet had punched into his chest had not shown the slightest hint of. This situation made him a little puzzled. But the half-elf didn't know much about this, and it was certain that when he was guiding Solam in Wind Cliff City, Solam was still an ordinary martial artist and didn't have a trace of chaos power.

After Cadius had laughed enough, he glanced at Zar with bad intentions. "Honestly, boy, I'm not anxious about your ranking," he leisurely tore the smoked fish in his hand and tossed strips of jerky into his mouth. "But in the next few months, you'll be busy. ”

"What?" Zar was stunned, the half-elf's words were a little strange.

However, Cadius did not answer him directly, but from the coat that was draped over the back of the chair. A squarely folded piece of parchment was pulled out. "Look at this, I just posted it yesterday......" he threw the parchment directly in front of Zhal, "Don't you always ask how to escape from Stormcliff City......?"

Listening to the half-elf's words, Zal suddenly froze in his action of tearing the bread, and he looked at Cadius in a daze. Then he grabbed the parchment any faster. Judging by the texture and the lime and sawdust sticking to the back, this should be a poster, or a wanted warrant or something.

But when he spread it out in front of him, he saw passages written in different languages, and a line of bright red letters—"Proof of the Champion." Before he could read the contents, Zal's eyes were once again drawn to the crimson emblem in the middle of his head. Three vertical scars, with a line of handwriting pressed underneath, but this time it was not a number, but "Wind Cliff City" written directly in mainland Chinese.

"This, what the hell is this...... What do you mean?" asked Zar, trying his best to control his trembling palms, looking up at the half-elf with difficulty. He felt as if the blood in his whole body was boiling instantly, his mouth was extremely dry, and even the sound of his throat would send out bursts of tingling pain.

He wanted to leave the city, and he thought about it all the time, although for more than four years, many memories that were once incomparably clear slowly crept to the surface, and even buried in the deepest part of his heart. But when hope or opportunity really appeared in front of him, the disguise that he had once been full of nonchalance collapsed, and he heard his own heartbeat, almost crazy.

The half-elf smiled and took a sip of the mead, very pleased with Zal's reaction. "Once every five years, three months later, the biggest carnival in Wind Cliff City, the proof of the champion of the Blood Arena!" he said, leaning his body in front of Zal and staring at each other as if inciting, "Boy, don't you want to go out? Look, now the opportunity has come......"

"Blood...... Arena ?......" Zal's eyes were hollow, and the words were silently muttered in his mouth. If there is anything on the "conviction platform" other than killing people and eating and drinking, it will be the gladiatorial arena that fills the streets and alleys.

He had followed the half-elves to see the scene inside, and it was a place of blood-pumping and madness. Blood, roars, roars, shouts, sweat, cold, all about the battle, all played out in that enclosed land, the spectators burning with money in the splatters of blood, and the fighters burning with their lives on the cold blades.

Zar was puzzled by this, but it didn't pay much attention to him, or maybe he was just using the prevalence of the Colosseum as another means for the Lord of Wind Cliff to maintain stability. But nowadays, things are far from simple.

Zal tried his best to keep his emotions in check, and he even wanted to sink his mind into the state of "Heart of Steel". He is no longer the impulsive hairy kid he was four years ago, not to mention, what happened in Wind Cliff City can never be simple. "Does the proof of the champion have anything to do with leaving Wind Cliff City?" he looked at the half-elf, "Can the champion of the Blood Arena leave Wind Cliff City, right?......?" asked calmly.

"That's right, to put it bluntly, as long as you become a champion, you can leave Wind Cliff City generously. Freedom, the smell ......of sunshine," Cadius replied crisply, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip of the wine, but his gaze did not take his eyes off Zal at all.

Laying the poster flat on the table, Zal folded his arms in front of him. "Has anyone ever managed to leave?" his instinct reminded him of the figure.

"Solam, the 19th champion. Soveland's half-elf answer made Sovereign guess correctly, but at the same time, he thought of another figure, the twenty-third champion, the king of mercenaries, Berosio Sgrano.

Zal thought, slowly closing his eyes, he kept recalling in his mind the two figures that had left a deep impression on him, and in the past four years, he had deconstructed their movements, their fighting methods countless times in his mind, and understood more and more clearly what they really stood for—powerful, strong enough to stand at the top.

This is completely different from just knowing or only feeling their strength before, but standing on the basis of the same understanding of skills, strength, and even combat instincts, it is a more detailed and objective understanding.

Zar let out a breath and reopened his eyes. "What do you mean by the next few months?" he asked.

The half-elf gestured to the poster on the table. "The ranking of hunters in the Left Ear Hunting Ground is the only criterion for getting a ticket to the competition. He said, "Within two hundred, as it has always been, if you can't attend this year, then wait five years, little one." The half-elf laughed, but it was only a mockery, "Do you still think I said you were too slow, there is a problem?"

"Whew......" Zar sighed a little frustrated, "To be honest, I regret it a little......" he said as he looked at the big words, but there was still half a sentence he didn't say, "Is that what you sent me to Wind Cliff City for?" Soram ......" he said to himself in his heart. (To be continued.) )

PS: Thanks for the five evaluation votes on the river, sorry, I just saw it today...... Compass thank you~