Regardless, he was back safely, and Ness thanked Goddess Lena and Corellon Larysian, the latter a god worshipped by every elven race on the earth, and whom the elves reverently called the "Guardian of Life." Suddenly Ness grabbed the reins of the mule, and she seemed to hear what seemed to be a noise behind her and in front of her side, which she would not have noticed had it not been for the sensitivity and care peculiar to the elven race. Ness began to slow as slowly as she could, and from time to time she looked to two places where there was a sound, and before long, she could see someone coming from behind. It were three men, two of them dressed in ornate full-body armor with a badge on their chests to indicate their status as knights of the Holy Order, and the other man wearing a heavy fur coat over his robes, and Ness realized that she had seen his face before.

It was in a shop in Thor, where Ness had bought a lot of flour, and just as the Gloomy Elf walked out of the shop satisfied, she saw the man who was now following her and a few people breaking into the shop. "In the name of Prince Sal, the tithing tax for this month, the transaction tax, the winter tax,...... is now levied on you," said the man to the innkeeper without the slightest politeness, and then there was a long list of nouns, each of which ended in the word tax. Ness understood that he was a tax collector who was loved by the nobles of Thor, and who was talked about by the commoners, and that his duty was to take some, perhaps close to all, of the little money that ordinary people had in the first place, to provide for the luxury of the nobles and other purposes.

"What is he doing with me?" Ness secretly wondered, she hadn't heard of anyone living in the area other than the dungeon's residents, and she hadn't heard of humans trying to collect taxes from the dungeon's dark dwellers. "He must be crazy. Ness secretly came to a conclusion. Regardless of the three people behind him, he walked forward on his own.

Then Ness began to focus on the sounds ahead, near the entrance to the dungeon. A dark shadow stumbled forward in the snowstorm. "Maybe his eyes are not too good" according to the behavior of the other party. Ness guessed, urging the mules under her to hurry up. "Hello, it's not a good day today, in fact, there hasn't been such a thing as good weather lately. Who are you, what are you doing here, and what can I do to help...... Drow!" Ness suddenly exclaimed, as if even the three men who were following her far behind her were alarmed, and they hurried to the side of the Dark Elf.

"May the darkness devour you, elf!" Drow stopped and began to search for the dark elf, and Ness was sure that she could not see her, which was good news. Ness jumped lightly from the mule, ready to steal the long dagger from her waist and sneak up on it.

"Stop, if you fight within the jurisdiction of Thor, you must pay a fine of twenty gold coins for the brawl and a duel tax of thirty gold coins each!" the tax collector's voice reached the ears of Ness and the drow elf through the snowstorm. The tax collector was a fat middle-aged man, and the wine stains on his lips were only from the wine bag in his hand, and the tax collector walked between the dark elves and the drow elves without hesitation. He began to look at the two of them: "I have never seen the two of you, each of you has a hardware entry tax, a three-gold coin entry tax, and a twelve-gold coin management tax. The tax collector looked at the things that Ness and the mules beside her were carrying on their backs, and added, "You are the one who is shopping in the city, and I know that you have spent nearly a thousand gold coins on these things, but you have to pay another five hundred gold coins in transaction tax if you forget it." ”

"Transaction tax? 500 gold coins?" Ness, who couldn't laugh at the tax officer's behavior, forgot about the drow spirit in front of her for a while, and turned to face the tax officer: "Your appetite is really not small, do I have to pay you half more money for anything I buy?"

"It looks like you're a smart guy, and I don't think you'll ask me to travel so far to collect your taxes next time. The tax collector nodded affirmatively, and then looked in the direction of the dungeon: "When did this place become inhabited? Isn't this the missing door in the cemetery?" The tax collector looked up at the sky and seemed to be calculating something: "Goddess Lena, how much tax have you stolen、......!

The Tariff Officer's mouth kept popping up all sorts of strange tax names, and the Dark Elf was dumbfounded, and suddenly Ness had a narrow thought: "I said Mr. Tax Officer." Maybe you should collect the tax from this lady in front of you first. It's going to take a lot of time to calculate the taxes here. ”

"That's right, you, black fellow, maybe I should call you the Black Lady?" the tax collector walked straight up to the Drow Elf, "except for the twenty gold coins I just mentioned. I'm afraid you'll have to pay another fifty gold coins for the winter, and thirty gold coins for the cutting tax -- if you're going to chop wood for a fire to keep warm, and a death tax of one hundred and fifty gold coins, even a god can't survive a winter in the wilderness, so please pay your own death tax while you're still alive!"

The female drow replied briefly: "Get out of here, or you'd better prepare your own death tax first!"

"What? You two heard? Not only did she refuse to pay her taxes, but she tried to intimidate me, the tax officer. The tax collector began to greet the two knights in armor: "Catch her, and then find a way to notify her family to pay the back taxes." ”

The two knights jumped off their horses and walked stiffly in the direction of the Drow Elf, and at the sight of it Ness almost burst out laughing: the two knights had put layers of clothing in their armor so thick that perhaps the scarecrows in the fields were more agile than they were.

The Drow Elf seemed to have lost patience, and suddenly she uttered a large incantation from her mouth, and a terrifying hurricane suddenly surrounded the tax collector and the two knights beside him. "You...... Homicide Tax ...... Ah......" The hurricane disappeared again in an instant, leaving only the three people who had been completely frozen. The Drow Elf turned his head and faced Ness's direction as far as he could, "Now it's your turn, Elf. ”

"I think so. Drow. Ness replied. She then left where she was, and as expected, she had just jumped away when a fireball exploded in place. Niss drew her long dagger and charged at the Drow Elf.

In the dungeon. Both the Dark Elves and the Drow Elves sit as far away from each other as possible. It wasn't that he heard any fighting, the demon just went outside from time to time to see if there was any sign of the dark elves, but it just happened to prevent the two sides from attacking each other. As if anticipating the arrival of the Drow elf, the demon announced his name as soon as he came up, and the other man reluctantly stopped his attack for the time being.

"I am Rufa Dale, the youngest daughter of the Dale family. Drow introduced herself, and Ness looked at her, wondering if she might be a decade younger than Ness.

"My mistress has ordered me to come here to contact all of you in the dungeon, and I want to inform you that your archmage Aqiman is a guest in our family, and that he is safe at the moment. Please don't worry. Rufa's eyes had recovered in the dimly lit dungeon, and the light reflected from the snow outside had made her unable to see anything for a while. "Maybe you should hear me talk about it in detail?"

In the underworld, in a farmhouse outside of Duran, a small dark room. The archmage arrived inside Duran City, and after ordering all the warriors of the family to patrol outside in shifts, Mistress Vona began the ritual with her remaining four daughters.

This is an ancient mysterious ritual that has been passed down through history, and if the drow elves who preside over the ceremony are lucky enough to win the hearts of Goddess Ralles, they may have the opportunity to directly connect with Goddess Ralles's mind and obtain a hint of the future from Goddess Ralles. Mistress Vona is determined to get a little information from Lady Rolle about the future of House Dalle and Durán City, no matter what the cost may be.

It was a success, and suddenly there was a flash of red light in the darkness, which then expanded into a human form, and Mistress Vona and her daughters fell to their knees, not daring to look directly at the man standing in the red smoke. And they all knew that the one who came was the handmaiden of the goddess Ralles, whom they had sacrificed.

Lady Rolles's handmaiden looks like a hybrid of a drow spirit and a demon from the Abyssal Realm, with a beautiful face and a slender figure. Her whole body was as bright red as the eyes of the Drows, as if she had just crawled out of a blood-soaked bathtub, and in fact there was a strong smell of blood around her body, including the red smoke under her feet and around her, and behind her was a pair of dark red wings, feathers and feathers bursting with sparks between them. Her fingers are as long as her forearms. The drow elves often speculated that her toes were the same under the red smoke, and that she had the fangs of a viper in her mouth and eyes that looked exactly like those of a viper: "Vona Dale, Snake Eye, my lord has heard your call and sent me here. I hope you will ask some questions that really deserve my personal presence, otherwise you will never end well. ”

"Every drow elf praises Rolls and her beautiful and intelligent handmaiden. Mistress Vona replied cautiously, "I suppose that the incoming necromantic army, and the Dale family, who are so devout to Rolle, may be able to get a little guidance for the future from the sweet handmaidens beside Rolls?"

"Who knows better than the goddess that the Dalle family will not perish, at least not now, as long as they follow the guidance of Rolle's will. Maybe you want a little clearer guidance? No, you can't afford that. ”

"What kind of price is that, perhaps?......" Vona tried to get some clues from Rolls' maid.

"The price is ...... Yes, my lord. ...... Yes, if it has to be, I am sure that these people of yours will not let you down. Rolls's handmaiden's figure suddenly darkened, as if she was talking to someone else somewhere, and after a while, her form became bright again: "Vona Dale, Snake-Eyed, you should be glad that the last time I came, Ralles's will was duly respected, that mage, he will bring wealth and glory to your family. Get him back, and tell him what I am talking about now. ”

"Yes, he'll be back soon. Mistress Vouna bowed her head, determined not to let go of every word spoken by Rolls's maid.

"That mage, he has his companions on the ground. Runs a dungeon. Trading with the dungeons helps the people of Rolls to survive better. And serve Rolls better. Sue sù that mage. In order to repay Rolls for sparing his life before, he must do something for Rolls. A spider-shaped amulet suddenly appeared in the hand of Rolle's handmaiden, and the amulet arced in the darkness and fell into the hand of the Mother of Vona: "The Quivin family has an icon of Ralles, let the mage go and bring the eyes of the icon, and the Dalle family must recreate an icon and place Rolle's eyes on it." When the time comes, the shadow of Rolls will descend on the heads of the Darret family. The corners of Rols's maid's mouth lifted, revealing a grim smile: "The Dale family will become the first family in the Sozedon region, of course, you will have to pay a little more. But that's another story. ”

The first family. Mistress Vona's eyes began to glow.

"Now, inform the mage of what my lord has asked him to do, and also, contact the mage's dungeon and make a deal, this is about Roll's next plan. As soon as Rolls' maid had said this, the red light that had enveloped the room suddenly disappeared again, as if she had never been there, and Mistress Vona stared blankly at the spider-shaped amulet in her hand, as if thinking about something.

"That's it, Aqiman has already set off for the Quiven family to carry out Rolls's orders. I, on the other hand, was sent to the earth. And brought a contract. Rufa pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket and placed it on the table in the dungeon hall: "Even if it wasn't at the will of the goddess Rolls. The Daller family was also delighted to have been able to secure such a trade route to the surface. By the way, the Daller family has always maintained a good relationship with the inhabitants of the Abyssal Demon Realm, and I guess this will help us communicate?"

Drow elves and demons have always had dealings, and that's a well-known thing. The demon thought as he spread out the parchment in front of him, and the Dark Elf and the others leaned their heads over as well.

The parchment paper contains the details of the first transaction.

The Drow will provide the drow with a collection of precious gems from underground, and the drow will provide the drow with a batch of weapons crafted from the purity of Mithril. Other than that, there are no strings attached.

Quite fair. "Deal. The demon didn't hesitate to sign his name to the contract.

For Archmage Akiman, who grew up on the ground, every aspect of the underworld is so new and interesting, even though the land is under attack by the Lich's necromantic legions. Perhaps due to the lack of light, the trees, the ground, the buildings, and even the creatures in the ground are unconsciously black, but the imperfection of color does not obscure the beauty of these things themselves: most of the underground creatures of the adult group are excellent architects or blacksmiths. Especially the dwarves, the dwarves who live underground, whether they are gray dwarves or black iron dwarves, are first-rate stonemasons, and their architectural art throughout the underground is praised by everyone on the continent of Vesta, and even the castles and houses of the dark elves, also known as the drow elves, are also from their handiwork.

However, the building that the archmage was about to enter at this moment did not have the grandeur and style of the dwarven building, and there were hardly any traces of artificiality, and it looked like the dwelling of the elves on the ground in the forest, and there were almost no wooden buildings underground, and the house in front of Aqiman was an exception.

It may not be very appropriate to say that it is a house.

The two towering trees stretched out their branches to each other at a certain height, forming a natural doorframe, and a milky white shimmer poured from the door, but the archmage stopped outside the door: he could not forget that it was a long distance from the capital of the Drow elves, the city of Duran, and that perhaps some pair of eyes lurking in the darkness were watching him and expecting him to make some reckless move.

"Come in with confidence, human. A deep male voice suddenly came out of the door: "This is the Holy Domain, and no one can approach this temple unless they have his permission." ”

So the archmage stepped inside the door without hesitation.

It was indeed a temple, with a pitch-black tree lying across the ground, and it was clearly an altar, surrounded by black flowers, and the white light seen from the door was shrouding the petals of these black flowers. Just like the meaning symbolized by the black flower, this is the temple of Dies, the god of death.

The Archmage was not surprised at all, in fact he knew exactly where he was going before he came here. At this moment, Aqiman was carefully looking at the person who had just spoken to him with great interest, it was a middle-aged man sitting cross-legged on the altar, at least he looked like a human on the outside, this middle-aged man's armor was black, but it was very different from the black armor on the necromantic creature: the armor on the necromantic creature was usually matte, while the armor of this middle-aged man reflected the light flowing from all around. In terms of appearance alone, even from a human point of view, the appearance of this middle-aged man can be said to be unremarkable, except for a faint layer of light shrouded in his face and golden eyes, the archmage knew very well that it was the so-called divine light, and what was even more noteworthy was a long scar on the middle-aged man's face, which looked like a newly inflicted wound that was in the initial stage of healing.

"I think you've noticed the scar on my face, and it was a minor accident. The middle-aged man turned his face to the side, intentionally or unintentionally, so that the wound on his face would be taken away from the archmage's sight: "I am the god of death and sleep......

"Death?" the archmage felt a little incredulous, after all, the middle-aged man in front of him had no resemblance to the countless descriptions of the appearance of the Grim Reaper on the ground.

"I am Dice, the god of death and sleep...... The bravest warrior by his side......" (To be continued......)