"We're here!"

The Misty Shield Manor was in sight, but Fang Plover did not wait for the cheers from the crowd. He turned around and saw a dark crowd of people standing clearly on the street in the Hagerstown Cemetery area, as if there was an invisible line.

People stopped there and looked at him and Sylvester quietly, reflecting the sea of ​​​​fire, billowing smoke, and a giant golden net hanging from the sky above the city.

A painting freezes the time at this moment, and the silent crowd makes this scene particularly impressive in Fang Plover's eyes.

He suddenly understood something.

Even though an invisible hand moves the pointer in the dream, so that everything that happened thirty years ago no longer overlaps with the trajectory of fate, it is still the time to wake up from the dream.

A ripple rippled through the dark crowd.

The faces of those standing at the front are becoming pale and haggard, like ghosts, and the fire of the soul in their eyes is now only a confused watch.

Thirty years ago, an invisible force still restrained the ghosts of Dolifen here.

But maybe it's not in vain.

In Fang Yu's field of vision, the middle-aged man who was not tall and standing at the front of the crowd was slightly stout, bald, and his pale face was covered with bruises from the deceased. He bent down slightly and bowed to him.

.

Then there was the woman with hair that looked like withered grass, holding her daughter's hand, a small, somewhat thin skeleton, and bowed slightly to him.

Everyone he tried his best to save in the illusion.

They all bowed to him.

After people saluted, their figures gradually turned into scattered light spots. Some people even turned around and walked back to the crowd, so the light spots converged into a stream of light, flying high into the air.

It was like a crowd of people leaving a banquet that had dispersed. People still maintained their last dignity and calmness.

Some light spots slowly fell from the sky, as if it were raining.

A ball melted into the Scepter of Regret in Sylvide's hand.

A ball melted into the "No Regrets" seal on Fang Plover's chest.

Sylvide came over and handed the scepter back to Fang Plover. Fang Plover took the scepter. There was no change on the scepter, but it held a little more weight in his hand.

This is the time.

The illusion around the two people began to become mottled and discolored, like a piece of broken glass. The entire illusion collapsed and turned into endless black smoke.

Fang Yu seemed to hear the angry screams of Dragon Golden Dragon behind the billowing smoke.

"Human boy, just wait for me, that damn woman..."

Smoke and dust scattered.

A desk is revealed.

A window facing the lake.

A quiet office.

The silver moon outside the window was quietly climbing up the windowsill and walking into the house, leaving the shadows of the three people on the carpet.

The documents on the table were a little messy, as if they had just been rummaged through. It was a roster with blood and tears from thirty years ago written on it.

On the wall not far away, there are portraits of several girls nailed.

Next to each portrait, there is a blood-stained brooch hanging.

As for the one on the outermost side, her voice and smile are still ringing in her ears, but the hook next to her is empty. The hand of time seems to be moving extraordinarily slowly here.

Fang Yu was looking at Sylvide, and the noble girl was also looking at him. The positions of the three of them seemed to be the same as a quarter of an hour ago, without any change.

It's still midnight before dawn.

The forest is as quiet as ever.

There was a rush of footsteps in the corridor outside.

But Fang Yu didn't pay attention. He just carefully closed the roster in his hand and put it back on the table. The last name on the roster seemed to become particularly clear under the moonlight.

Shizu

A piece of letter slipped from the register. It seemed to have been there all along, but they had not noticed it before. Fang Plover gently caught the letter with his hand.

It was a letter written by a man to Man Luo. The paper seemed to have gone through decades and was slightly yellowed, but it was pressed at the bottom of the list and was pressed very flat.

It seems that even time has carefully preserved it.

'Dear Mr. Dean, my daughter has not been home for a week. I am very anxious. Is she still in the college? Isn't it because of the upcoming celebration? What are the arrangements?'

Fang Plover folded the letter.

Keep it carefully on your body.

Sylvide watched his movements carefully. The previous encounter seemed like a dream to the two of them, but Fang Plover had a shining unicorn brooch on his chest.

And the Scepter of Regret that he always held tightly in his hand.

Tell everything quietly.

The footsteps outside the door suddenly stopped.

The door was knocked open with a bang, and a figure stumbled in from the outside. The other person was seriously injured. There was an arrow stuck in his left shoulder. The combat craftsman gimbal glove on his right hand was cut with a knife, and the shell

They were all rolled up, and underneath there was a deep cut where the bones could be seen.

Her hands were hanging down so naturally and feebly, with blood dripping from them. Her face was pale from excessive blood loss, and she ran into the office in a panic, like a panicked animal that had entered the end of the road.

Hong Ye raised her head and was a little panicked to find that there was someone here. She subconsciously took a step back.

But a hand was already holding her.

The maid reached out to catch the latter to prevent her from falling. She raised her head and looked behind her. What she saw chasing after her in the darkness was the two Dragon Worshipers that Fang Plover had seen before.

"There are actually accomplices," the two Dragon Worshipers were slightly startled, and their steps slowed down: "What on earth are the people from the Dragon Fire Guild doing outside? There are so many rats sneaking in."

They probably didn't expect that after they left, someone else would enter the office. If this was discovered, the consequences would be disastrous.

So he sounded a little annoyed.

"Ed, run quickly," Hongye ignored his own injuries and gritted his teeth and whispered: "You are no match for them. I will hold these two people down. Mr. Parker and Dict are trapped under the dungeon. Dragon's Gold

Tong and Hu Di are also there, the situation is not very optimistic, try to find a way to help them!"

"Run, where are you going?" Two people blocked the door, "Maybe you can jump down from there." They pointed to the floor-to-ceiling window behind Fang Plover jokingly.

Only then did Hongye notice that there was a cliff outside the window, with a cliff hundreds of feet below. Although there was a lake outside, Hostings Cathedral was not close to the lakeside.

Under the cliff are ferocious rock teeth.

She couldn't help but feel despair.

One of the Dragon Cultists holds a chain saw, and another holds a rapier. One of them is a blasphemer. This profession, like the believers of Amea, is also a profession that is almost extinct among the chosen ones.

Not only is this dark knowledge secretly circulated only among cult members, but recruits must understand the mysterious whispers of the nameless gods they worship.

The fallen ones.

It generally refers to those who worship evil gods and disasters, and is not limited to believers of the dark dragon, although it is said that the dark dragon itself is also the incarnation of disaster.

But the ancient dragon slayers were more inclined to believe that they were actually just one of the many evils that Green brought to the world.

As for the history before the fall of Eshorin, it is said that the elves of Numelin recorded more disasters and twisted evil that slept in the darkness.

However, after the Disaster of Eshorin, the Numelin elves disappeared, leaving only the remains of civilization in many corners of the world.

Those histories and even the texts that recorded them have long been lost and cannot be examined for a long time.

To this day, only occult scholars know every word about the saints of disaster and darkness. They have been written down, recorded as taboo texts, and hidden deep in the deepest parts of those libraries.

But only the lunatics, careerists, and cultists who preach doomsday and disaster insist that all these evil gods are real. They are the enemies of the Orin gods, and they are the greatest reality of this false world.

Those twisted things, the mysterious whispers in the darkness, are the essence of this world.

But today in history, only the Dark Dragon is left to prove that these people's beliefs still exist.

But the dark dragon seems to be a story from the previous era, reduced to the background of those epic dragon-slaying stories.

To Fang Plover, Nicol Bolas seemed to be a monster that came out of legends. If Mazak hadn't seen everything that happened a hundred years ago before his eyes, no one would have thought of the world today.

Is there actually a dark dragon still existing on the planet?

Mentioning them, people can only think of the ferocious skeleton in the Iron Hall.

If it weren't for Dolifen's disaster, Fang Plover actually felt that if this thing were placed on the earth, it would be like the discovery of dinosaurs in this era, and it would be sent directly to the laboratory for good protection.

One day it dies, and its remains will be preserved as the best specimen.

But this is Etalia.

Blasphemy Walker swung the chain saw in his hand and swung it at Fang Plover, who was blocking the front. The surging power driven by the B-type crystal magic power gave this handmade chain saw considerable lethality.

Moreover, the level of the two is also hugely different.

But Fang Yu didn't even move, and only said: "Shield to protect yourself."

A shimmering, hemispherical shield flashed at the edge where the chain saw came into contact with him. The chain saw hit it and directly broke apart.
To be continued...