"It's very important," Medivan said, a little wobbly when she got off the griffin. He looked like a withered one, and Khadgar guessed that the battle with the demon must not be as easy as the ** master said.

"I ...... It will disappear for a few days," the older mage continued. "If a messenger arrives during this time, I would like you to help me manage the correspondence. ”

"I will," Khadgar said, "a trifle." ”

"No, you can't," Medivan said with some difficulty down the stairs. "So I'm going to tell you how to read the letters with the purple seals, which are from the council. ”

Khadgar didn't say anything this time, and nodded vigorously.

Suddenly, Medivan stepped into the air and planted forward. Khadgar gasped and tried to hold on to the old man, but the master kept his balance against the wall. "There's a scroll in the library, 'The Song of Egwen,' about the battle between my mother and Sargeras. ”

"Is that the scroll Jazba wanted to copy," Khadgar said, carefully watching the faltering ** master in front of him.

"This is it," Medivan said. "The reason why he couldn't get this scroll was because the council used it as a password for intelligence exchanges. It is the most critical key. Each member of the council has a copy of the same scroll. If you look down the standard alphabet, the first letter is represented by the fourth, tenth, or twelfth letter. This coding is simple. Do you understand?"

Khadgar was about to say yes, but Medivan was already anxious to explain.

"The scroll is the key," he repeated. At the top of the letter, you can see a line of dates. It's not actually a date, it's a message that starts with a few words, a few lines, a few words. The first letter of the word is also the first letter in the cipher alphabet. From here, the next letter in the word is the second letter in the alphabet, and so on. ”

"I see. ”

"No, you don't understand," said Medivan, tired and eager. That's just the password for the first sentence. When you encounter punctuation, start with the second letter of the word. Take this letter as the first letter of the alphabet in the next sentence. Punctuation is the same as usual. Numbers are the same, but they don't mean quantities, they have other meanings. There are a few rules, but I can't think of them at once. ”

They walked to the door of Medivan's room. Moros was already waiting there with a robe, and a bowl covered on the ornate table. Khadgar smelled a thick broth smell at the door.

"What should I do after I unlock my password?" Khadgar asked.

"Hmm!" said Medivan, as if a string had suddenly caught on in his head. "Procrastination. Delay for a day or two, and I'll probably be able to take care of it myself. You can prevaricate on the grounds that I don't know when I'm going to be back. You should reply with the same password, taking care to start with a date. If the prevarication is unexpected, you represent me and let them deal with it first, and I will do my best to help them. They always like it. Don't tell them I'm not feeling well—the last time I said that, a whole bunch of self-proclaimed priests came to look after me, and I lost a lot of silverware that time. ”

The older mage took a deep breath and leaned against the door frame, looking listless. Moros didn't move, and Cadega stepped forward.

"That battle with the demons—" Khadgar said. "It's hard, isn't it?"

"I've experienced harsher. Beasts with slanted shoulders and ram heads! Far more ferocious than humans, covered in shadow flames and wielding filthy claws. You especially have to be careful with their claws. ”

Khadgar nodded. "How did you defeat it?"

"Yan zhòng's trauma would have killed him," Medivan said, "and this time I got its head off." ”

Khadgar blinked, "But you don't have a sword." ”

Medivan smiled weakly. "Did I tell you I needed a sword? With that, he walked into the room, and the ever-loyal Moros closed the door in front of Khadgar. The last thing Khadgar heard was the tiredness of the old man when he first found his place to rest**.

A week passed, and Medivan didn't leave the room. Moros would drag his feet and deliver a bowl of broth upstairs every day. Finally, Khadgar mustered up the courage to visit the mage. The appearance of Khadgar did not cause dissent from the owners of the tower.

The teacher's face was like ashes, and his eyes that had lost their light were closed and lifeless. He was dressed in a long nightgown, leaning against the pillow-topped headboard, his mouth open, his face pale, and his old exuberance almost gone. Moros carefully spooned the broth into Medivan's mouth, he could swallow it, but there was no other sign of wakefulness, and after the bed was made, the owner of the tower went to sleep for the day. (To be continued.) )