"Your Excellency the Astrologer, you ...... Tears?" Elliot, though a well-bred knight, didn't seem to understand that it would be a bit inappropriate to ask such a question at this time.

Jonah turned his face sideways, hiding his tears in the glowing shadows of the brazier, "No, Eli, I'm fine. What happened? Did Sibi find his father? How did they get to Cherry?"

"It's a long story, and we'll try to keep it as short as possible to keep your sleep long. The Rose Knight nodded.

Pamela never found her father. She searched around for the gray-haired, tall, wide-brimmed swordsman, but before the war broke out on the Western Continent, there were thousands of people walking on the road, and who would notice the appearance of a hurried passer-by?

She was determined to abandon her name, the name given by her father. Pamela changed her name to Sibi, which means "revenge" in the Bazelar mountain dialect. Traveled all over the country. In order to reduce the trouble, she had to wrap herself tightly in a heavy cloak, revealing only the green eyes that were exactly the same as those of her mother.

With her bow and arrows on her back, she entered St. Bouren, passed by the Red Stone Fort, followed the main road all the way north, and finally crossed the entire Zavi Empire, and reached the border of the Republic of Ebenezid.

The Republic of Ebenezer is known for its xenophobic foreign policy, and that year, when a new consul took office, the first order of the new leader was to close all the gates, keeping merchants and spies out of the country. Sibi's itinerary makes a U-turn here, passing through the Zavi Empire, Saint-Bouren, and returning to Bazelar. Time, two years have passed, she has been confused by the true or false news, and the fighting spirit generated by anger has gradually faded.

She wandered aimlessly westward along the main road, and before she knew it, she was following the same path that her father and mother had fled from the Bluegrass Manor. One night she was staying at the inn, and learned the news from the innkeeper's mouth: 20 miles ahead, there was a deserted castle, the ruins of the Dewey Bluegrass Manor, which had been destroyed by the royal court 19 years earlier, and who, according to folklore, had been roaming the castle by the ghost of the owner, Baron Javilir Sutherland, and if you were lucky enough to walk into the castle in the middle of the night, you could hear the eerie whispers of Baron Javelier in his study on the top floor.

"Yes, miss. The innkeeper put down the rag and wine glass in his hand, and squeezed his eyes: "Now it is a famous tourist attraction, and countless young men who want to prove their courage have come from all over the kingdom by car, and sleeping in the castle for a night is the most fashionable experience to test the courage, miss, if you are interested, I can arrange the carriage and guide for you, and set off tomorrow afternoon, just in time for dinner in the castle." ”

Tin was stunned and couldn't say a word for a long time.

Early the next morning, she left the inn and walked alone to the Bluegrass Manor. At noon, past a dilapidated fence gate, Sibi stopped and picked up a rotten wooden sign from the dirt with the slogan "Dewey Bluegrass: The Best Tobacco in Bazeral."

The vast tobacco and spice fields on the estate have been deserted, and even the roads are overgrown with weeds. Nineteen years ago, His Majesty, Duke Dewey and now the King, ordered the complete abandonment of the fertile land, prohibiting freedmen and other lords from cultivating the land.

Sibi walked in a familiar and strange land, and her mother had told her about the grass and trees on the manor, and that these desolate pastures were the golden tobacco fields full of life in her mother's eyes? There must have been a small mill beside the river, wasn't there? There was only a stone mill in the river, and the water cut deep marks on the rocks.

The moment he saw the castle, Sibi had lost the ability to think. She could not match the gray-black castle in front of her, the spire of which had long since collapsed, and the doors and windows were empty, with her mother's words, and she could not imagine the thorny empty space in front of the castle, the harvest celebrations that had been carried for so many years, the dry fountain, the wine that was once filled with honey, the crumbling stone benches, the farmers who used to happily light the smoking pots, and the golden smoke that filled the sky.

She walked mechanically into the castle like a steam golem. The hall was covered with cobwebs, and a few sleeping bags were littered in the dust, dropped by a group of tourists who had left in a hurry, and judging by the dust on the stairs, the cowards who had come to test their courage did not have the courage to climb to the second floor.

Sibi climbed the stairs to the top floor, pushed open the creaky wooden door, and entered his grandfather's study. The woolen carpet had been bitten to pieces by rats, and on the dusty desk lay an open book with a magnifying glass pressed against the pages, and it was evident that the owner had not stopped reading until the moment he left. Sibi walked over slowly, and on the table and pages, he found large patches of blood that had turned black.

"Grandpa...... If you're here, can you come out and talk to me? I don't know what to do. Sibi muttered, tired as he sat down in his armchair and leaned on his desk.

In the middle of the gray wall, there is a slightly lighter square blank. Sibi knew that it was once the place where the family coat of arms hung, the coat of arms of the Sutherland family, the seal of the royal family. Like it or not, there is the same blood flowing in his veins as the king.

Sibi suddenly felt so tired, so tired that he didn't want to move his little finger. The dilapidated castle, the uninhabited penthouse, and the gloomy study actually gave her a sense of security that she had never felt in two years, and she didn't want to think about anything, so she lay on the desk and fell into a deep sleep.

Opening his eyes again, Sibi saw the next morning's sun. She moved her stiff body to her feet and looked around in disappointment, but her grandfather's ghost did not appear. Rumors are just stupid rumors. Just rumors.

Sibi eventually finds the graves of Baron and Baroness Javelier behind the castle. The humble tomb bears a crescent-shaped symbol representing Shira, the god of writing and painting, and a limestone slab is embedded in the tomb to serve as a tombstone. It is scrawled with the tip of a sword: Javellir (and his wife), no longer enjoying the honorable surname, but forgiving his sins in the name of the king. - The Inquisition, Kirach, the knight of the silver shield.

In the dirt further down the slate there is a line that says: It is not your fault. I forgive you, and I'm willing to take that sentence back. I hope you are happy.

The handwriting that looks like a wooden stick is blurry, but in any case, it can't have been written 19 years ago. Sibi exclaimed, "Grandpa!" She hurriedly looked around, the early morning bluegrass manor was as quiet as a huge coffin, and her grandfather, or his ghost, still did not appear.

In the end, Sibi did not find the ghost of Javilir and left the Bluegrass Manor with regret, but in any case, her grandfather's words made huge waves in her heart. She began to think about whether her father had her own difficulties, the words of her mother and grandfather, and her own tomorrow. She finally made up her mind not to follow in her father's footsteps, burying her hatred deep in her heart, and then she joined a mercenary group, and soon became the youngest chief archer of the mercenary group, at the age of 19, and as a woman.

Just like Sibi's mother once lamented, the days passed too fast, and in the blink of an eye, seven or eight years later, Sibi suddenly found that the shadow of her father, who had slowly faded away, appeared in her nightmare every night. This is because she found that her appearance did not age at all, as if time had stopped flowing since the year her mother died, and in the mirror, the 25-year-old Sibi was not half different from the 17-year-old Sibi.

She understood in an instant. Not only did she have the blood of the Sutherland royal family in her veins, but half of it was the blood of the icy northern elves. Before this, she had never realized her identity as a half-elf, after all, it had only been a few decades since the northern elves came into the sight of the people of the Western Continent, and the tragic product of deformed love of the half-elf had never appeared in the history of Bazeral or even the entire Western Continent.

She didn't know how long she would live. She didn't know if her blood would glow. What she knew was that because of the curse given by her father, whom she hated so much, she had to leave the mercenary group she loved so much to wander in a strange land.

Sibi couldn't explain and said goodbye to his mercenary group's companions. Since then, she has been active on the battlefields of Bazelar, large and small, taking pleasure in harvesting the lives of her enemies with the archery skills taught by her father, and every three or four years, she will start again with a mercenary group, until the Zavi Emperor of the Zavi Empire ascends the throne and sends iron horsemen to spread war and death throughout the Western Continent.

"Wait, wait......" Jonah stretched out his hand to signal the Rose Knight to pause, and he rubbed his brow, "When the story begins, it's 2665, right?"

"Yes. Elliot replied, "The year 2665 in the continental calendar." ”

"Sibi was born that year. This year is 2305, so Sibi has ...... this year Forty?" said Jonah, his mouth wide open.

Eliot nodded and said solemnly, "That's right, but Lord Jonah, please don't mention Miss Sibby's age in front of anyone, otherwise...... The consequences are unimaginable. ”

Jonah nodded vigorously, "I understand, I understand." ”

"In terms of elf's lifespan, Miss Sibi is still a maiden who has not yet received a rite of passage. The Rose Knight thought for a moment and added.

Jonah tried to recall all the passages in the Geography of the Western Continent about the northern elves, and found no description of the half-elves, "Eli, half-elf's words......"

Elliott looked sad and shook his head, "Half-elves are an unblessed race, and there is no data on how long they live. Moreover, Miss Sibi still has the blood of the Sutherland family, and no one knows if and when the curse in the bloodline will occur. ”

Jonah didn't know what to say for a moment.