Only then did he understand why his witchcraft had failed. Mobile version "He is dead." Sylvanus took a step back, "Was he an undead before?" The Fool only works on living people, and the puppet is not undead. As long as the magic power in their brains is removed within the time limit, the puppets can return to normal people, provided that he does not control them to do something that breaks the limits of human beings.
"No, he just used this mortal body. It is said that the Green Envoy is very good at controlling dead objects, which is exactly the opposite of your witchcraft. It is not surprising that related mysterious items exist." Lametta explained. "I remember that Mr. Dean Rubin is a tailor? It seems that no matter what mysterious profession it is, it will become difficult in the sky."
Even if she said this, Silvanus did not think that the profession of life could be compared with the profession of war, otherwise the current Minister of Foreign Affairs would be the envoy of Qing. Lametta had already told him that the White Envoy was the only enemy she was not sure of dealing with.
Ka'ampang's face was buried in the shadows, and his chest had not yet been filled with snow. The leader guessed right, the envoy would not let him leave alive. Like Sylvanus' own justice, the Messenger has his own principles to uphold.
"That thing was smashed," he said. A belated emotion grew.
"So that's his answer. Your request is denied."
A nightmare come true. All his previous efforts were in vain and he could not calm down. "How can he refuse me?" Silvanus asked, "I am the master of San Carlos, the savior of the City of Mist! I represent the people of San Carlos. What qualifications does he have to act arbitrarily?!"
The wizard lady tilted her head, her expression hidden under the incomplete mask. "To be honest, you have no right to accuse others like this." She let the leader see Ivan's puppet on the floor. "He doesn't accept your justice, it's that simple."
"These astrologers are not worthy of ruling San Carlos." He concluded, "A bunch of lunatics! Look, he dares to make fun of the entire city. Is this the foreign minister of the Tower of the Sky? The direct superior of the subject country? It is really unreasonable!"
"You are right." Ms. Lametta seemed to be smiling in surprise.
She thought my reaction was going too far, Sylvanus thought. He exhaled like frost and tried many times to calm down in the cold wind. "Maybe he was just bluffing." That's not impossible. "I have to tell him face to face." You can't scare me, Silvanus thought.
But when he stood on the rooftop of the castle, he realized how violent the wind and snow had become. This time it was no longer the heavy snow falling like rain, but the Bailang Waterfall that looked like the sky was falling. Silvanus had to retreat indoors, otherwise he would be in danger of being buried just by looking at the thickness of the snow on the top of the castle.
"Wait." Lametta stopped him and looked serious. "He's coming this way."
No need to ask who she was talking about. Silvanus's face suddenly turned extremely pale. He rushed into the snow and wind, and even Lametta had no time to stop him. "The White Envoy!" He roared loudly, but the only response was endless wind, waves, and snow.
…
"Need help?" After getting a positive answer, Agatha looked around. The priests are clearing the ground so that the magic of blocking the wind and snow can be used. “Do you have enough shovels?”
"It's not about the shovel." Father Thurber turned around helplessly. He was preparing a magical spell, and golden runes flashed on his sleeves. "You should have told me that the weather would be like this. With the Knights of the Cross guarding it, no one can break into the church...but I was also careless and failed to cast a spell on the building in time."
"How would I know?"
"Your magic can contact him, Mademoiselle Poirot."
He was right, if Agatha's profession happened to be able to communicate over long distances, she would not have been chosen to go on a business trip to this damn place. "Although I am a gardener, what can I do if the other party ignores me?" Agatha shrugged. "It would be better to say that he never received my notification. Maybe it was just a rush of magic power and my communication mark disappeared. .”
"Perhaps the tower should assign a more professional correspondent to the Lord Commander." The priest shook his head, turned around, and threw the sacred text on a cleaned stone brick. A cloud of golden mist flew out and spread into a glass-like square barrier. As soon as he raised his finger, the light curtain immediately rose to the roof. "It's best to be helpful whenever you can."
Agatha suddenly remembered a certain apprentice. "He has to decide this matter himself, no one else can interfere." She heard a shattering click. "Your magic is no longer able to bear the load." In just two sentences, the accumulation of frozen snow and the strong wind had already made the barrier unbearable. "Holy gods, how did he do it? I know that changing the environment is not difficult for the Sky Realm, but even the snowy climate in the south cannot be so bad..."
"I'm afraid it's because of the mystery. But the snow is also good. At least you don't have to light the night light."
The detective blinked, "So that's the problem."
"your problem?"
"It's a weather problem. It takes time to create wind and snow, but he prepared it in advance and asked the demon hunters to send them all over the city. It's those magic lights."
Father Thurber, who was using a shelter to isolate himself from the blizzard, couldn't help but turn his head when he heard this. Outside the limits of divine magic, only a few tower spiers still have outlines, and the buildings with long night lights on the roofs are all gone. Perhaps they had been weighed down by the snow, or simply buried.
"It's not enough." Agatha reasoned, "The purpose of the White Envoy is not to win the war or deal with the rebel army. He must have other means."
"The White Angels have flooded San Carlos with snow," the priest pointed out.
What he meant was that no matter the rebels or the nobles in the city, the blow they suffered at this moment was enough to wake them up. He couldn't be more wrong. Even though Thurber understands the suffering of many people in the world, and is pious enough to enlighten people...but his vision is still the vision of a priest, and the White Envoy can be regarded as the lord of all tower kingdoms.
"Not enough," she repeated.
"I still don't know what method Silvanus used to hold him back until the siege was over." He said slowly, "But the venting of anger was a bit too much. The San Carlos Snow Disaster is undoubtedly another problem that people have to face. A war."
"This is something they should have faced long ago." Agatha replied. "Sylvanus was not the first person to rebel against aristocratic rule, and he would not be the last. No matter what banner he is using now, he will become the same person as the enemies he defeated in the future. Maybe at first he This is this kind of person. He talks nicely, but does too little. Even if I am not an astrologer, I can predict what San Carlos will be like in the future... Anyway, in my opinion, there is no difference between nobles and gentlemen."
Her words were full of irony as usual and made the priest think. When he spoke again, the barrier outside the church had been connected. "So you joined the Sheriff's Department after graduation?"
"There are differences between mystics and mortals, and the Sheriff doesn't have to think too much all day long. I like a simple life, and not-so-simple cases are as simple as that." Agatha smiled, "It shows that no matter whether you are ambitious or not, You have to face reality. The White Envoy wanted the people of San Carlos to face reality, and Sylvanus didn't do enough, so he had to take matters into his own hands."
The priest wanted to say something, but suddenly stopped. Then Agatha also felt her magic mark. The White Envoy did not eliminate it, but he had somehow severed the magical connection before. She judged from the priest's expression that something was happening outside the wall. However, she was not an unknown person and did not have the mystery of Gao Huan. At this moment, she could only see the wall of white snow outside the shelter.
The detective took a breath and said, "Father, how far is the church from the red wall?" She then noticed that her voice was rising and falling, spinning in the wind and snow.
Father Thurber made a gesture that meant they were near the core of the inner city.
It makes no difference anyway. Agatha thought of the palace they entered when they first arrived within the red walls. It was built on the terrain and could be called the city within the city of San Carlos. "You really deserve it." She almost laughed. In Father Thurber's solemn and confused look, she told him: "Pray, sir, San Carlos is about to usher in a new era. There will no longer be the old nobles of Motog controlling the court." It doesn't matter whether the other party can or not. Listen clearly.
The city is shaking
The sound of shattering echoed through the sky, as if countless cannonballs had fallen in the swamp. The cold current flies like the smoke of war. No matter inside or outside the red wall, the sharp drop in temperature has made it impossible for the dense fog to exist. The houses and streets of San Carlos began to be exposed to the sky, with dark blue brick and stone bridges on one side and colorful glazed palaces on the other. At their junction, the high wall is stained red with blood, dividing the nobility and the lowliness, the rich and the poor, and two completely opposite rivers of destiny. It divides asking and giving, cutting freedom and truth in half. It is a ladder and a class.
At this moment, all the snowflakes obeyed the command, and the mist was no longer the veil of the red wall. The toxin-containing air coils tried to resist, but the cold wind blew through, and all the contrary ocean currents turned into smooth waves. Every long night light that left the warehouse yesterday cracked and shattered, and countless snowflakes poured out, roaring and rushing through the city. The crest of the waves reaches beyond the rooftops, beyond the dim street lamps, beyond the weather beacons and clock towers, and reaches to the higher and higher sky.
Snowy Call
Just like the name of magic, this is the call of the snowy land
As if the whole winter had fallen from the peak, the avalanche was like a giant white beast opening its abyss and swallowing half of the city in one go. Its breath was a pale ring five hundred yards high, frost blocking its path.
In the rapids of ice and snow, neither steel nor wood and stone are obstacles. Pulled by the storm, the city's fragments began to gather in the arctic ovens, where they disintegrated and melted, eventually being reforged into the deep blue hammer.
The Prison of Paleness!
Father Thurber uttered a prayer. His prayers seemed to epitomize the people of San Carlos, and Agatha saw them. Behind them, the hammer of solid ice and iron stone suddenly struck the red wall. In an instant, the loud sound was like an earthquake. The cracks in the high wall extended to the end of the field of vision, and were eventually destroyed by frost and snow like straw. Heavy snow followed, flooding the ruins of the inner city. This fence of arrogance and contradiction has finally been shattered by Deep Blue's will.
“San Carlos is no longer the City of Fog.”
cloud train
