As a person who is good at managing his time, Mogan is naturally also very good at slipping numbers. When he was younger in his life, he used the tips of extracurricular knowledge in his basic magic class.

At that time, his concept of magic was still at the stage of "skill", and he was more concerned about dabbling in a wide range of techniques than ignoring techniques, and he was always very motivated to learn, and from time to time he would go to the library to "hunt for treasures". When he was asked to consolidate his knowledge and practice copying repeatedly, Mogan, who learned that spells were time-sensitive and could not permanently copy items or money, was bored, so he played a clever trick.

He first took the paper airplane he folded casually during practice, carefully copied it, rummaged through the teacher's teaching aids to activate the magic potion, and probably pinched a funnel-like device, so that the process of copying spells would work automatically on the assembly line he had built.

As a prepared cheater, Mo Gan calculated very clearly, taking into account the inevitable speed changes when dripping from rudimentary equipment, and probably concluded that the automatic spell can reach the standard of handing in the job in about half an hour.

After a pleasant opportunistic approach, the rest of the day can be freely distributed, which is a pretty good result.

However, the end result was somewhat out of his imagination, proving that magic is not exactly a matter of one plus one equals two.

In response to the current situation, Mogan also set an approximate deadline. He had to reach his destination, activate the potion by the moonlight of the full moon, complete the casting of potions and spells, and arrange the materials globally, which would take about an hour in total.

Since the magic equipment didn't work very well, Mogan also came up with a temporary plan.

Mogan plucked two sticks of grass from the grass next to him, stuck them in the deadbolt thickly, and folded them thinly, stuck the pliable part in the gap, and tucked it firmly into the other end of the door. At least as far as he knew now, the people of this world did not have a general understanding of this simple and crude anti-theft trick, and they were vainly suspicious that there could be a boring guy who would "prevent theft" from the guests inside the door.

After doing this, Mogan immediately left the scene.

In the evening, the land breeze used to pass through the flowers, infiltrating the sweet compound aroma, and also making the air in the middle of the mountain refreshing and pleasant.

The classification of the seasons in the common knowledge of the Twin Continents is much the same as Mogan's understanding, except that the great differences in geography are not absolute, and there are places like the southern side of the Lettersmann Ranges, where the town of Windsor is located.

The poets of the Imperial City of Cole also favored the corners of the continent. Intoxicated by the combination of rhetoric and rhyme, they often sing the praises of this pure land where there is little strife, and praise the hearts of those whose hearts are as hard as ice that nature can influence everything, quench greed, and even have a heart as hard as ice.

It was Mogan's nature to deny this romanticism, but that didn't prevent him from capturing the message he wanted.

- It's safer here.

Reaching the top of the mountain as fast as he could, looking down on the valley and discerning the direction by the moonlight, Mogan saw his end.

The Litesmann Mountains are characterized by rolling hills, with some valleys covered with vegetation. Due to the characteristics of some kind of tall magical vegetation, the path that ordinary people can travel in the valley varies from day to day, depending on the season, day and night.

Locals also take the initiative to avoid this type of headache, and refer to this type of area as the "Lost Valley".

But it's not out of the question, this magical plant is not usually aggressive, but prefers a more mischievous way of growing. If you want to force your way through the natural and ever-changing labyrinth of the valley, whether by cautering, chopping or other methods, you can force a passage and follow a straight path out of the valley, but you will inevitably leave traces in the vegetation.

Nature may not be able to influence everything, but it often preserves evidence, and even the wood master mages can't completely repair the broken vegetation to its original state, because all life contains unique powers, especially those that contain magic.

Because of this, Mogan did not dare to leave a trace, and could not determine the best path to his destination on foot at any time, so he could only make an impromptu judgment.

But it didn't happen to be difficult for him.

Mogan took off his shirt and closed his eyes, his senses were completely empty, and he concentrated all his minds, and had a basis of absolute concentration.

Then he silently recited the innate obscure incantation. The speed of speech progresses from slow to fast, layer by layer, and the ancient syllables seem to collide, oscillate, and couple with each other in the air, and finally stop abruptly at a node, instantly silenced.

A strange warm current gradually spread from the heart, and Mogan, who had completely gathered his spirit, tried his best to control the direction and extent of this change, allowing them to spread and stretch from the blood to the whole body, covering all the limbs.

Eventually, most of the power converged in one place, slowly condensing at the back.

When he opened his eyes again, in addition to feeling more surging power, Mogan's eyes flashed with the same brilliant golden light as when the sun was displayed, his pupils were also deformed, and the dragon scales that appeared behind his eyes changed from light-colored lines to tiny flakes that were superimposed and covered.

And the most significant difference is in his back.

Obscuring the soft moonlight, completely obscuring part of the surface, the combination of man and wing casts an inconvenient shadow on the grass. The dragon's unique wings are tighter and heavier than those of bat wings, more refined and distinct than bird wings, and relax with the breath.

The two wings are stretched out at the same time, the shape is beautiful and vigorous, and the size basically meets the needs of the human body.

If the boss you see during the day is here, you will definitely be able to recognize the distinctive black scales on the dragon's wings. Although they were one size smaller than normal dragon scales, they still reflected the different colors of the moonlight, flowing with the change of angle.

Every dragon is unique. And perhaps because he has half Terran blood at the same time, the difference between Mogan and Mo is even more significant.

Mogan tried his best to adjust the rate of his breathing. Because the result of the transformation is different from a pure human body or dragon form, and does not match the appearance of his main exercise over the years, it is not easy to achieve a balance that can be adapted in an instant.

What's more, he also needs to control his breath as much as possible.

The aura of the dragon after the transformation will affect the perception of other animals, making them nervous due to instinct, and the abnormal movement of the animal may also be domino-like to implicate the change of plants. Mogan knew that the indirect effects were difficult to predict completely, and he didn't want his whereabouts and transformation to be discovered, so he had to adjust his state to the point of internal and external balance after partial transformation.

Semi-dragonization.

This was originally a skill that only a few strong people in the dragon clan would master. But for Mogan, who really has human blood and was born as a human rather than a dragon, he does have a big advantage in learning this skill, which is considered "not very practical".

Mogan took a shortcut.

Compared with the young dragon who was like wearing a leotard when he started to be a man, and he wanted to walk with the same hands and feet on his two bare legs, Mogan was born in human form in this life, and he also has more than 20 years of "life experience" in his previous life, which is naturally different.

After mastering the art of complete perversion, revealing subtle racial characteristics was not a problem for Mogan. However, it still takes years of practice to truly control the balance between the human body and the dragon body, so that the main functional structures can be integrated into the desired shape.

Remembering that there was another unstable factor that made him have to race against time, Mogan quickly fixed his state and then spread his wings and took off.

He hadn't forgotten to carry his clothes worth a few dollars in his arms, and he was also carrying the potion materials he had prepared earlier.

Fly to the other end of the valley, hover and glide in the air for a moment, and land towards an inconspicuous mountain bag.

Steadily on the ground, Mogan walked among the vines and branches, and walked in a half-circle, approaching a hole hidden in the vines.

With a slight wave of his hand, the vines that had been densely covering the entrance of the cave disappeared in an instant.

- It's just an illusionary illusion made up of tricks, which can isolate most of the less intelligent creatures, and a closer look can still reveal some clues, but it needs to be consolidated and strengthened occasionally.

But now, they soon don't need to come in handy anymore.

Mogan stared into the cave, the moonlight through the treetops barely shining into this hidden cave, even more so on this day with a full moon. But even with the bright moonlight, from this angle, ordinary people are still almost completely invisible to what is going on inside.

Lighting the candle that had been prepared earlier, Mogan stared at the spotless walls of the cave before walking forward.

At first, the sound of footsteps was muffled by the chirping of insects in the middle of the night, and soon all that remained in Mogan's ears was the uniform rhythm of walking and its accompanying long echoes. The cave in view was bottomless at first, and Molghan came to an end in a few moments.

The clay pot contained the potion of Coldwig Herb, which had just been chilled by Lucifer, and fifty-eight black tree stumps forged from black horn mixed with special wood were hung to dry on a special rack made of iron plates. These practical products are neatly arranged at the end of the cave.

On the other side, a more simply decorated but sturdier chest is housed.

Mogan stepped forward and opened the chest with the key, lifting the lid of the chest inlaid with a variety of dark ores on top.

A box full of gold coins suddenly appeared in front of me.

They reflect off each other, highlighting the pure gold that represents luxury, and it is completely impossible to take your eyes off it.

It's just that one thing, combined with Mogan's serious attitude, such an extreme beauty seems to have lost the "soul" of self-presentation.

As an extreme lover of wealth, Mogan seems to have been less conscientious - his expression is calm, and not only does he not show excitement about his favorite treasures, but even as if they appear as expected, he seems out of place and out of place.