The one-eyed assassin in front of him was much more cunning than the tiger man before. Also much more cautious. When he discovered that his companions had most likely failed. This is almost certain. Otherwise, the target would not suddenly appear; so the assassin turned around and ran away without any delay.
Turka threw the Khajiit assassin's dagger. "This is not friendly," he said. The dagger struck a bolt of lightning and instantly flew towards the back of the second assassin.
Nargis' back that was originally charging suddenly turned around, and a steel dagger appeared in his hand. He hit the stress point of the dagger that once belonged to his companion, and knocked it away.
Mephala.
Nargis barely had time to think, but his arm was shaking violently from the heavy blow. A small crossbow magically appeared in his left hand, and he fired an arrow at the target behind him that frightened him.
Turka let out a sigh of admiration. He caught the flying crossbow arrow with his hand. The jet-black steel arrowhead was no more than an inch from his eye. It was obviously coated with some kind of venom, and under the dim moonlight, it was emitting a faint green light.
What a monster this is. Have we messed with a demigod? Nargis wailed in his heart, dropped the empty crossbow, turned around and ran away.
"Stop."
The target said gently, as if chatting with his closest friend. But Nargis found that his legs seemed to be out of control and he couldn't step out.
"I think we still have some things to talk about, what do you think?" The target's voice was soft, as if he was complaining about why his friend was a guest but was rude and left the table first.
Nargis was in a daze and could hardly help but drop the dagger in his hand. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. A voice kept emerging in his heart: relax. Relax.
No. Mephala, he is also a magician.
The remaining sanity made Nargis bite his tongue crazily, and the severe pain made him wake up. He ran forward staggeringly, thinking of the magician back then. Fear and despair flooded the one-eyed Nargis' heart. His colleagues were all amazed that he could escape from that magician. Only he knew what a miserable past he had experienced that he could not bear to look back on. Even though he finally escaped from the dungeon of Winterhold successfully, he never wanted to experience similar torture again.
Turka gave a small thumbs up for the second time.
The assassin in front of him was the first mortal he had ever encountered who could break free from his magical voice. Note, they are mortals. He couldn't help but feel a little interested. "You interest me." He said, "Why don't you stay for now."
Turka Aracano caught up with the assassin and gently touched his neck with his big hand. Nargis' inner alarm almost reached its peak. Years of experience on the verge of life and death allowed him to unleash the Iron Armor Technique at the last moment.
Turka only felt a flash of green light on the opponent's body, as if he had pinched a cold iron pipe. At the same time, the dagger in the opponent's hand turned upside down and stabbed his heart fiercely and quickly.
Is this a spell?
Turka tightened his hands, curious.
The deadly dagger stabbed by the opponent immediately stopped in mid-air. Nargis desperately realized that if he moved a little more, those five fingers that could crush steel would break his neck at any time. Even if he has used the spell he stole from the Master of Change in Winterhold.
"I surrender." Nargis spat out these words with difficulty and threw the dagger in his hand to the ground.
"Very good. A wise choice." The target nodded and still said in his gentle voice: "I hope we can reach an agreement in the future."
Nargis closed his one eye in despair.
At this moment, a sudden change occurred.
The vast power from the light world poured down from the sky in an instant, bringing about the scene of world destruction. The terrifying beam of light vaporized the highest rock peak in Markas in a heartbeat, leaving a huge crater hundreds of meters wide and several miles deep. Blazing light, earthquakes, and strong winds swept across the entire frontier territory.
"O Ilúvatar."
Turka Aracano blinked his eyes and looked dumbfounded at the horrific scene happening around him; Nargis was so dumbfounded that he even forgot to breathe.
"Mephala, I saw something."
Year 173, the Fourth Era.
Starry Night and Moon.
11th.
Dibella, the goddess of art and beauty among the Nine Holy Spirits, came to Tamriel for some reason, and her wrath directly destroyed the Supreme Temple in the city of Markarth in the southwest of Skyrim. This incident was also called the "divine incident" by later generations.
…,…
confusion.
Unparalleled chaos.
The anger from DiBella became the last straw to overwhelm the tense atmosphere in the city. Countless guards, merchants, miners, farmers, and even disheveled nobles all ran out from all over the city, yelling, talking nonsense, and running around like goats that were about to be slaughtered.
In the square that Turka saw during the day, the stalls of vendors, the glass of shops, the horses in the stables, and the towers of the city gates were all falling, breaking, or hissing in a mess.
Everyone was talking about the beam of light and the huge pit, and almost no one paid attention to the body lying in the sewer not far from the hotel entrance. After all, murders, fights, and bloody conflicts are everywhere in Markarth City at the moment. In their madness and fear, people committed countless evil acts. The body of the Khajiit was but an insignificant one.
Even Harald Silverblood had no time to teach his 'disobedient' daughter. Because he has more important things to do at the moment.
"What's the situation like at Stone Fortress?" The barrier formed by the magic inscriptions around the villa allowed the Silver Blood clan to escape from earthquakes and strong winds. But even so, after Harald Silverblood witnessed the horror of God's descent, he couldn't help but feel a sense of fear in his heart.
He couldn't help but hold on to the beautifully carved window frame, trembling slightly.
"According to our people's message, the city lord is sending his herald to the villa." The housekeeper stood behind him with his hands tied in a respectful manner, using almost all his strength to avoid letting his fear affect the report.
"Very good." Harald Silverblood said with a smile: "Although the impact is a bit unexpected, the Dark Brotherhood is indeed one of the most powerful organizations on the continent, and they actually did it."
The butler shut his mouth and was smart enough not to answer.
Harald glanced at him to confirm that he had not noticed his slightly trembling fingers, and said: "As soon as the people from the fortress under the stone arrive, bring him to the study immediately. We should protect the little boy sitting on the stone seat. Guy."
Soon, a figure rushed into the Silver Blood family's villa in Markas like a wind. Then, Harald Silverblood came to the Stone Fortress again.
"Shul, what the hell happened."
After passing through the corridors and gates guarded by layers of guards, Harald Silverblood met the young Igmund Andor. The lord of Markarth City has his trademark blond hair, a high nose bridge, and deep-set eyes. In addition to anger and panic, his green eyes are more of a kind of panic at a loss. In this regard, he is far worse than his father, the cunning Hovdi Anduo. Even if Hofdi is so weak that he can no longer sit up straight without help, as long as he does not close his falcon-like eyes for a day, no one in the frontier fortress will dare to underestimate the man from Shixia Fortress. Order.
"Rebellion! Murder! Beggars!" our lord shouted from his throne of sorrow like a frightened puppy, "I've had enough! If no one can explain all this, then I hope you I can use my life to..."
"Quiet." Igmund's father, the previous Lord of Markarth, said weakly. Time and disease have taken away most of his vitality. His originally tall body has become stooped, and his strong muscles have wilted. The silk robe worn on him is like a large, ill-fitting cloak. The original golden beard and hair were sparse and unhealthy, "You have passed the age of making noises like a child. These are what you must face when you become a lord."
His voice was so weak that if you didn't listen carefully, you might be ignored. But just such a simple sentence made the huge stone hall magically quiet. Everyone closed their mouths, and only the crackling of the orange flames in the brazier echoed.
The lord's uncle, old Hovdi's brother, Larrick Andor; Hawa Silverblood of the Silverblood family; the lord's captain of the guard, the archmage Kasemmo; the city lord's personal weapon master and other ministers all hung their heads. Head, pretending not to hear anything.
By the way, if the chief prophet does not die, she will also have a place in this imperial meeting. Moreover, the ranking is still very high.
Among them, Larrick is the great steward of Markarth City, responsible for all internal and external chores; Hawa is the commander of the city guard; the captain of the guard is responsible for the security of the stone fortress and the Andor family; and the weapon master supplies most of the Arms of Markarth; Cassemor, the Summoning Master from Winterhold - they say the Nords don't like mages, but you see, from east to west, from south to north, every lord in Skyrim employs The corresponding 'private' mage. I have to say, this is very ironic.
Harald Silverblood calmly watched the old Hovdi teach his son, while mentally evaluating the chess pieces of both sides, his cold face hidden where the brazier could not shine.
Although it was scary to take out a divine priest, in the end, the plan worked. For the rest, the high-precision mage is a trouble, but these guys who can only chant spells will often run away first when they see that things are going wrong, so they are just a trouble.
Then.
He looked at the captain of the guard.
"Yes, father." Igmund lowered his head with an ugly expression. He was very angry at his father's attitude of always treating him as a child. But at the same time, he also understood that as long as old Hofdi stayed alive, the increasingly chaotic frontier leader would always have the Poseidon's needle to hold it down. This was the old lord's majesty over the past decades. Therefore, he could only endure it.
Old Hofdi glanced at all the imperial ministers present, and his withered chest rose and fell rapidly, "Casemo, what have you discovered about this chaos." Just a few words seemed to have used up most of his With so much strength, Old Hofdi made an unpleasant hoarse sound, like a leaking bellows.
"Is it really a descendant of God?"
Master Kasemmo, who was wearing a blue mage robe, hid his thin face under the deep hood, and his red eyes occasionally flashed with several flames.
"I can feel the power of Lady Joy, so, unfortunately, yes." The high-jing mage bowed slightly, looking proud and annoying.
"I don't understand." Larrick looked very uneasy, "Why? Shu'er, is the Holy Spirit going to abandon us? And, where is the chief prophet? Such a major accident happened, why is she nowhere to be seen?"
Casemo replied: "According to the testimony of the survivors, Ms. Berrian was in the temple when the incident occurred."
This was an unsettling answer, and everyone looked at the High Essence Mage uneasily.
Under the service of his servants, Old Hofdi finally calmed down and said, "So?"
"When the light of purification poured out, I immediately went to check." Casemo said: "In addition to the divine power of Lady Joy, I also vaguely smelled the breath of the web spinner."
The rest were horrified when they heard this.
Shur.
Are the Nine Holy Spirits and Lord Daedra at odds again? Why?
…,…
At the same time, Silver Blood Inn.
Since the inn owner Claiborne originally selected the site, it was a little distance from the rock peak in the center of the city. Moreover, his inn was also built with ancient Dwemer technology and was built on flat ground. It actually survived the initial earthquake and strong wind.
However, the sign on the door of the inn, the tables and chairs in the hall, and the pots and pans in the kitchen are no longer alive. Everything was in a mess, and the floor was covered with debris and occasional dust.
"Shul, what happened."
The fearful and distressed voice of the hotel owner came. He seemed to have had an argument with a guest. Because it seemed that the other party no longer wanted to live in the house and was asking for the remaining rent.
"Huh? Refund? The service tenet of our store is... No, Songgard. When you die, you can ask your ancestors for it. Now, get out of here."
"Boy, Orava. Watch out for me. If anyone dares to do something they shouldn't do while in the chaos, throw them out! I'll go see what's going on."
Boyi and Orava immediately cursed and muttered a few words, as if to say, why don't you run away now... shut up. Now run out, be careful of the guard cutting off your head with a sword.
So, in the end, one of them stood at the door, and the other stood at the back door to persuade the guests not to be impulsive. The boss had already gone to find out what happened, and there would be an explanation when he came back. Of course, if you insist on going out, pray for Shu'er's protection and you won't be hit on the head by a boulder from the sky or the hilt of a guard's sword.
As a result, some travelers were frightened. In other words, when the helper of the hotel said this, the originally distraught guests stopped making noise. After all, in the chaos, it is better for someone to make an idea, no matter how bad it is, than for you to run around like a headless fly. (I have my doubts about this.) They gathered in the hall in terror, huddled in front of the fireplace, trembling all over.
In the chaos, only little Logatus noticed that Turka was missing.
Shure, where did he go at this time?
He cast a cautious glance at his father. But old Dandis just shook his head at him. Apparently, the old farmer also discovered it. But he used firm and resolute eyes to signal little Logatus to keep quiet.
Ever since he 'picked up' this uninvited guest on that rainy night of the Frost Moon, he knew that they were not the same people as Turka Aracano, and it was best not to get too involved in his affairs.
If he wants to leave, let him go. Old Tangdis and his wife looked at each other.
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