The thunderstorm lasted for a day, and the ground inside the Grigory Rift was flooded with water, and the road became muddy and difficult to navigate, causing the group to get to the other side as soon as possible to get their wish and had to return to their original speed.

Fortunately, this situation was equal for the others, and because of the warnings left earlier, Henry, who had walked the last third of the road for a whole day, did not encounter another Assassin attack.

The corpses of the mercenaries who had been abandoned, on the canyon floor, might have become food for some reptiles in the night when no one knew about it. Nature has always had its own way of solving problems, and there have been many bloody conflicts in the Grigory Rift over the centuries, but the bones of humans who died here have often mysteriously disappeared.

Similar events have occurred all over the West Coast, so much so that in many places there are legends that these bones have been transformed into necromantic creatures to seek revenge on those who killed them.

The people of the kingdoms, who were related to each other and had a superstitious belief in ghosts and gods, often used it to scare their mischievous children, and perhaps to the horror of those who laughed at them, the legend actually had some credibility.

Necromantic creatures such as zombies and bones are real on the continent of Rigal. But they are not so much the revenge of the dead with their own consciousness as they are puppets manipulated by magic.

- Yes, magic.

Every creature on the continent of Rigal is affected by magic to some degree. It has long been discovered that there are two sides to everything related to magic - those with a high degree of magic sensitivity and those with a low degree of magic awareness.

The former is often associated with all kinds of magical beasts, and their innately knowing how to use magic is imbued with this wonderful ability in their internal organs and blood, while the latter is almost exclusively dedicated to dragon creatures.

Interestingly, the magical beasts that are extremely sensitive to magic will become anti-magical after a period of death, if they are not processed in time, the materials of their bodies will also become anti-magical, which may be the reason for their high prices, but we will not mention them here for the time being-

There is no definite explanation as to why magic drives dead creatures, but what is known is that in areas where necromantic creatures are abundant, there is usually some kind of item with powerful magical powers.

The object could be a vein of magical ore or an indescribable magical plant - neither the driver nor the driven party had any consciousness, they just instinctively emitted a magical force field that was constantly attracting the undead to the vicinity like a magnetic field.

The most popular among the nobility circles on the West Coast is the "Treasure that can be obtained by beating a necromantic creature." The story is based in part on this fact.

Of course, the real-life necromantic creatures are not as scary and evil as the story depicts, they are actually more similar to plants than creatures, passive and wooden, and even the lowest-level green-card mercenaries can slaughter them without stress.

The only thing that really is as ferocious and evil as the one described in the knightly novels is that it could be commanded by someone, and the difference between wild individuals and ordinary skeletons and corpses is probably that they will walk around aimlessly - we're going to get away.

Returning to the Grigory Rift, the inexplicable disappearance of bones over the millennia, if Henry were to say, it was likely that it had nothing to do with the evil of Rausch and the undead, just that some birds and reptiles picked them up to make nesting materials.

The journey continued, and as time went on, the sun gradually replaced the gloom, and perhaps because of the contrast, when it took two weeks to finally reach the other side of the Grigley rift, the sun seemed so dazzling.

The grass shook slightly.

On the smooth and straight road, bluestone slabs that have changed their appearance over the years are paved on top.

Thousands of years of wind and rain have left them indelible traces of time, like the words that have been sung from the distant past to the present day, no one knows the meaning of the lyrics, and only remembers the melodious melody of the tune - the precipitation of time, giving them a unique charm.

The road was wide and straight, and most of the merchants who traveled to this side let out a long sigh because the rest of the road would be much easier.

The black pines on either side of the road stand out from the sky, and the domed buildings at the end of the road that shimmer in the sunlight are so eye-catching.

-- This is the pride of the former Luoan people.

This feeling of historical precipitation alone is not comparable to that of Avenella on the other side. Even Prospel, the proud capital of West Valiers, has a hard-to-feel atmosphere that is both austere.

Prospel was prosperous and prosperous in the bustling port of Vasha, where the city itself and its inhabitants were constantly expanding, and every public place was filled with beautiful works of art and decorative buildings. They are the pride of the West Valiers. But when you spend a long time traversing the Grigley Rift to the true West of Rigal, you don't know how many streets Prospel will throw out of the way just by the straight roads on this side and the outline of the city looming in the sunlight at first glance.

The Romanticism of the Sivalier people may never understand the simple and crude beauty of the Lohan style, and this style will not stand up to scrutiny like the fragile decorations of the Sivalier under the erosion of time, but radiates a delicate sense of layering and a sense of simplicity and heaviness.

"......" may have been moved by the beautiful scenery, and Mira, who had been in a cold war with Henry for several days, finally reached out and pulled the corner of the sage's clothes.

She looked up from the carriage from the bottom to the horse, and the sage on horseback looked quite well-behaved. There was a hint of apology in the white-haired Luo Anda Lori's expression, but more perhaps she was dazed and overwhelmed.

The two had never had a real conflict before, because Mira had always been very sensible.

This is why people can better understand how heavy it is for this girl to take a life with her own hands.

She was born in troubled times.

On the West Coast of this era, there are far more people who have killed people than anyone could imagine.

A quarrel in the tavern erupted into a brawl that eventually spiraled out of control, and the nobles treated the commoners as nothing, and ordered their men to behead them if they stood in their way.

The lives of ordinary people living in this era are like songworms in a summer night, and they disappear at some point without noticing.

But this act of putting oneself at the top and adjudicating the lives of others is unrealistic.

Unlike Mira, this kind of killer often doesn't realize that he is taking a life equal to himself, they have no heart or lungs, they either don't care at all, or, they are in this circle, maybe they will die next.

The girl still remembers how she felt when she took the mercenary's life.

It was a true reflection of every nerve in her and the vibrating through them that struck her heart again and again.

The pain in the flesh, the fear in her heart, the hopelessness and helplessness of imminent death, all these emotions were intertwined, and in such a situation she fought back and killed the other-

The real feeling of "killing" is real.

And, it's heavy.

At least not to the extent that an eleven-year-old girl could afford it. So Mira deservedly collapsed, even though she was far more mature than her peers.

Horseshoes and wooden wheels made a clear noise on the bluestone slabs, and groups of merchants began to walk towards the checkpoint guarded by the Ottolo soldiers in front.

A few days weren't enough time for Mira to forget about it completely, but as Henry put his hand on top of her head again, the girl let out a long breath of relief from the silent sage that "everything will be fine."

After the wheels rolled and the questioning was made, two spear soldiers in simple leather armor let the group pass the level.

The huge bluestone-paved gates have the same quaint feel as the roads, and the walls are mottled with stones of different colors in many places, apparently damaged by the war twenty years ago, and filled with the white limestone nearby.

The traces of the war can be clearly seen in many places, the traces left by the sword slash are only superficial, and the various deep scratches on the walls on both sides of the road are left by huge siege engines.

As soon as you enter the city gate, you will find a huge cemetery surrounded by an iron fence, which may seem bad luck to the West Coasters, but the Ottolo people, who have absorbed the cultures of various peoples, are not afraid of it.

The unique Otolo script is written on the top of the huge iron door, and after Henry's explanation, the group understands that it means "resting place". And this is also a pun on the word "rest" in Otto's language and also means "glory" - in this respect they are similar to the inhabitants of the four islands in the far north, and the Ottolo people also believe that if a person steals life and dies on a sickbed, then his or her life can be considered meaningless and without any glory at all, and such a person will not rest in peace.

In fact, in the traditional Ottolo culture, there is even a saying that "if a person dies an unhonorable death, he will return as a ghost to cause trouble for his family until one of the younger generations has achieved glory." Such a statement exists.

From these details, it is not difficult to draw conclusions.

The cemetery, which was built at the entrance to the city gate, which was considered bad luck by the people of the West Coast, may not be bad luck for the Ottolo people, but on the contrary, it was a symbol of honor.

There are two flowers, one on each branch.

The rest of the team may have been concerned about cultural differences, but His Royal Highness had different perspectives. He carefully examined the cemetery, which covered a considerable area, and finally came to the conclusion that the cost of forging the walls of this cemetery alone was already a shivering tooth.

The great empire is not something that ordinary people can imagine, even if Avenella is already considered a wealthy country on the West Coast.

The wheels rolled, and the bustling city-state was filled with cries of selling in various languages, and Mira looked curiously left and right, but it was Minna who spoke first before her.

"There are so many people...... the blonde girl did not hide her surprise at all, her words were in the language of Avenella, and the meaning of "many" in this was not only a quantitative adjective, but also a lament for the multiplicity of human races.

-- And that's the first impression of Ottolo as a country.

The traditional Ottolo is a mixture of the Avenella and the Dan Lasso, with the general tallness and muscular stature of the Dan Lasso, and the Blonde of the Avenella - and the pure-blooded Ottolo like this exists only a tenth of the streets of the city-state at a glance.

The West Coasters, who were obviously thinner and smaller, were blonde, brown, and red-haired, and crowded and densely packed.

In addition to this, there are a large number of black-haired people of Raman descent about the size of West Coasters walking around. And perhaps because of the sensitivity of her kind, Mila also saw a family of three walking by in a corner with a basket of vegetables, talking and laughing.

No shackles, no dirty clothes.

The Loans, who had fled to the West Coast rather than die, suffered, but those who remained were not treated as much as they thought. On the contrary, these people seem to be happy.

There was no hostility between nations, and people of different skin colors, hair colors, and physiques got along naturally and harmoniously, which opened the eyes of the six people, and they felt that something they had been accustomed to in their hearts had been completely subverted.

"So it's such a place...... Does it exist? Mira muttered to herself, looking a little sluggish, and sighed a little after a while.

"It's in our abandoned hometown......"

The emotions contained in the white-haired girl's simple exclamation were complex and heavy, Minna leaned over and hugged her, and Edward continued to drive the carriage forward, and when it reached the front of a tavern, a diminutive red-haired young man approached the carriage.

"Your Highness?" he began, and Edward tilted his head.

"Is it Marvin?" Naturally, something as important as an alliance with Ottolo had to be well prepared, and long before the group set off, Charles and Edward had contacted a traveling merchant on Ottolo's side through a raven message.

The emperor of a country is not just to be seen, even if Edward is a prince, and without the help of the local serpents, they may not even be able to enter the palace gates.

Two weeks had passed since the contact was completed and the departure had passed, and Edward was not sure if the other party would be able to do it because he could not receive information during the journey, but fortunately the young man named Marven smiled and nodded.

"Yes, Your Highness, I have managed to open up some relations, His Majesty the Emperor met with you. He said, bowing to the group.

"Now, let me officially welcome you to the Ottoro Empire. ”

"This is a country that belongs to the 'many'. ”