The third choice brought the young man into the heart of a battle.

It was completely unexpected. He had just stepped over a set of stone-paved stairs a moment ago, and his mind was wondering if he should go and get a map or a bell and a flying flute from Moros, lest he get lost in the tower one day. The next moment, the ceiling above his head turned into a blood-red dazzling sky, and he was surrounded by heavily armed soldiers, ready to fight.

Khadgar took a step back, but the hallway behind him vanished, replaced by a rugged, barren land—a land completely different from the world he was familiar with. The soldiers shouted and pointed their swords ahead, but their voices, though they were right next to Khadgar, sounded distant and indistinct, as if they were shouting to him underwater.

Is it a dream?, Khadgar thought. Probably he's been asleep in his cabin for a while, and his current condition is a nightmare. No, he could almost feel the breath of death in the breeze and the temperature of the massive sun shining down on him, and the soldiers around him who were shouting and moving.

It's like he's out of touch with the world...... He no longer occupies any corner of the world, only the faintest trace of connection with the world that really exists around him - it is as if he has become a ghost.

In fact, the soldiers were as unaware of him as if they were air. Khadgar reached out to grab a man's shoulder, and to his relief, his hand didn't go through the torn armor. There were obstacles, but only the faintest ones—he could feel the presence of the armor, and once he focused further, he could feel the rough outline of the uneven armor.

Khadgar discovered that the men had gone through at least several successive harsh battles. Only a third of them didn't have too many messy bandages. Filthy armor and shattered helmets were stained with blood. Their weapons were also jagged with curly mouths, covered in splashes of solidified crimson. He fell into a battlefield.

Khadgar surveyed where they were and saw that they were stationed on top of a hill. The hill looked like it was just a fold in the undulating earth around them. The vegetation had been cut down to form defensive ramps, and a grim-faced man commanded the work. There are no secure fortifications, no castles or fortresses. They chose to fight here simply because they had no choice.

A tall, broad-shouldered white-bearded old man, who was clearly their leader, passed through the troops, and the soldiers consciously dispersed to stand apart. Make a way for him. His armor was as tattered as the rest of the group, but the difference was a crimson robe tucked inside his breastplate. This style of robe did not exist outside of the upper echelons of the Kenrito Council. The pleated skirt, cuffs, and back of the chest were all accompanied by powerful magical runes, some of which Khadgar had seen before. Others are unfamiliar. The old man's beard was almost waist-length, covering the armor underneath, and he wore a bony hat on his head, and a golden diamond on his eyebrows. He held a staff embellished with gems in one hand and a dark red sword in the other.

The leader was shouting at the soldiers as he walked. To Khadgar's ears, it sounded like a raging sea. But the soldiers seemed to understand him, and dispersed behind the barricades in an orderly manner, while the rest were responsible for filling the gaps in the defensive line.

Whitebeard's commander passed by Khadgar, who subconsciously moved out of the way. This commander, like the other bloodied warriors, must have been completely unaware of him.

But this commander noticed. His voice stopped suddenly, hesitated, and his foot that was stepping forward grabbed so hard that he almost fell on the uneven mud. He withdrew his foot and turned. Khadgar was noted.

Yes, he saw Khadgar. The "not yet apprentice" person understood: the older battlemage could not only see him, but also see it very clearly. The Commander's eyes fixed on Khadgar's eyes, and for a moment, Khadgar returned to the feeling he had felt when he had been stared at by Medivan - and even more intensely now. Khadgar also stared into the other's eyes.

What he saw in the other person's eyes was breathless. He turned his head away, interrupting the battle mage's gaze.

When Khadgar turned back again, he saw the commander nodding at him. It was a brief, even a slight nod, as the old man's lips moved slightly. Then the Whitebeard leader turned around and continued on his way. Assign combat missions to your subordinates.

Khadgar tried to follow him, asking him why only he could see himself and the other soldiers couldn't. What exactly did he say to himself? But a shout filled around him, the last cry of the weary soldiers in their lives ready for battle. Collectively, they raised their swords and spears towards the blood-red sky, pointing their shields in the direction of a nearby mountain range. In that direction, the rust-colored and purple earth was pouring out with an irresistible force.

Khadgar looked in that direction, and a wave of black and green rushed up the nearest ridge. Khadgar thought it was a gushing river at first. Or a variegated mudslide. But he immediately understood that it was an army advancing. Black is their armor, green is their skin.

It is a group of nightmarish creatures with human-like shapes. Their turquoise faces, their drooping jaws, their fangs bared, their flat noses twitching like dogs, and their small, bloodthirsty eyes filled with only red hatred. Under the rays of the dying sun of this world, their ebony-handled weapons and brilliant armor glowed with a strange brilliance. After occupying the entire top of the mountain, they collectively let out a war howl, which resounded through the heavens and the earth, and the earth under their feet trembled.

The soldiers around Khadgar also responded with a call sign. The green creatures rushed this way, and the humans rained down on them with a rain of red arrows over and over again. The monsters in the front row fell to the ground with arrows, and in the blink of an eye, they were trampled to death by the rushing up from behind. Then another volley began, and another wave of savage monsters fell to the ground with arrows, once again devoured by the huge legions behind them.

A flash of lightning flashed in front of Khadgar's right, and the monsters on that side screamed, their bodies engulfed in flames coming out of their bodies. Khadgar figured that the battlemage had done it, but he also realized that the action was generally nothing more than an itch to the advancing herd in front of him.

The green-skinned monsters had rushed to the front in the blink of an eye, the black-green tide shattering the fragile wooden barrier. The scattered pieces of wood could no longer stop the storm. Khadgar could feel the line of defense recess inward, and the soldier closest to him fell, pierced by a large black spear. Where the warrior fell, a green-skinned nightmare was howling and lunging at him.

Khadgar was distraught, stumbling back two steps, turning and running.

- and almost crashed into Moros's arms.

Moros was standing in the archway of the hallway. "You," Moros said in a calm tone while asthmath, "not for a long time." I guess you're lost. ”

Khadgar looked back at the place where he had been—no otherworldly blood-red skies, no green-skinned monsters, just an abandoned living room with an empty fireplace and a few chairs with clothes on them. The air was filled with freshly stirred dust.

"I ......," Khadgar said breathlessly, "I see...... I ......"

"Wrong?" Moros replied.

Khadgar swallowed his words with difficulty, looked around the room, and nodded silently.

"Your dinner is ready," Moros coughed a few times, then said again, "next time, cough, don't, lost, cough." ”

Then the servant in black turned around and walked out of the room quietly.

Khadgar looked back at the hut he had fallen into. There are no magical portals or magical space portals of any kind. The scene of the battlefield (if not his own hallucination) had vanished without a trace, and the room had become the same as it had been before he entered.

There were no soldiers. There are no green-skinned creatures. There are no human troops on the verge of death. Only the memory of that scene made Khadgar feel terrified from the bottom of his heart. It wasn't an illusion, it was real, he could feel it.

It wasn't the monsters and the blood that really scared him. It was the battle mage, the white-haired commander who seemed to see him too. The gaze seemed to see through his heart and knew his thoughts.

However, the most terrifying thing was the white-bearded old man in his robes and armor, who had Khadgar's eyes. Despite his old face and white beard, he showed great strength in his demeanor. But Khadgar would never mistake those eyes—the eyes he had seen in that tarnished mirror a few moments ago......

Khadgar left the living room, wondering if it was too late to get another pair of blindfolds?...... (To be continued.) )