A blood-red wave hit him head-on, submerging him in the water. The bright red liquid like blood surged into the nose, throat and ear holes, penetrated into the lungs and stomach, and finally soaked the brain. His bones were like radish and potato chunks floating in a pot of stew, his body heat cooking the muscles. The vision was so real that it gave him goosebumps. Fortunately, I woke up quickly.
Larsen pulled himself up from the observation deck and realized that this time his memory had not been completely lost. He remembered how he entered the magic and what he saw at the last moment. Of course, the middle part still had to be viewed through the Eyes of Iron, but he had a vague impression that they were familiar.
This time without the help of a mentor, the reflection of fate became much clearer. While browsing his dream, Larson grabbed the brownie brownie that delivered the milk next to him to replenish his energy. When the alarm clock rang, Sabina knocked on the door on time.
Miss Astrologer is carrying a basket. "The cook said there was no peanut butter." She took out a large piece of cheese studded with cherries, and when she lifted the curtain, the smell of chicken wafted out. "Pure lemon juice here." Sabina's little eyebrows knitted together at the mention of this. It was a strange gelatinous substance solidified at the bottom of the cup. She flicked the rim of the cup with her finger, and the solid juice melted immediately, and the glass overflowed.
"Thank you." Larsen took a sip and suddenly felt refreshed. "You also brought chicken wings?"
"I just want to bring a supper to Roma, teacher, I only have these, no more." Sabina replied, staring at his throat in fear.
Larson handed her the milk: "Let her finish it."
"Please stop eating brownies, teacher." She knew what was going on with just one glance. "If you trick them into delivering snacks again, soon all the brown fairies will know that there is no return. I have only completed half of my observation mission, and I have to run up to deliver meals during the break." She suddenly laughed, "Roma Give you a nickname, teacher, she said your title should be 'Brownie Killer' or 'Leprechaun'. It was all her choice."
"Brown fairies are not equal to all fairies." Despite the apprentice's repeated protests, he easily ate the meal delivery fairy. It's all the chef's fault, they can't make the cake as delicious as the brownies. "Some goblins are as tall as humans."
"Big goblins are mythical creatures, not food goblins like brownies. You can't eat real brown elves either."
"Perhaps you should become Haines' apprentice."
Sabina shook her head. "Mysterious plants and biology are less interesting than astrology."
The influence of the dream was quickly offset by food, and Sabina didn't leave any chicken wings for him after all. Larson watched the dream from beginning to end several times and remembered every detail clearly. The Red Prophecy visited frequently at night like an unwelcome guest, and it was difficult for him to forget it.
The great astrologer went to see the prophet as planned.
The corridor was silent except for the sound of the wind. When he pushed open the door of the conference room, he happened to meet the eyes of the people in the room. The Tower Seer was wearing the cleanest and most appropriate saint's robe, with a gold pocket watch hanging on his chest and a deep sapphire-studded belt around his waist. He was holding a strange object in his right hand. Larsen couldn't tell what shape or color it had, but he could feel the vitality of life on it that couldn't be ignored... and the incredible pressure. A stone, he thought, a stone more mysterious than mine. It must be a mysterious item treasured by the prophet, but Larson is still young, so he has never even seen it.
Apart from the portraits circulated during the War of Dawn, Larsen had never seen the Tower Prophet dressed like this. When "Victor" Veronka led the saints and the entire mysterious realm of Knox to expel the evil dragon, the prophet was so fully armed.
The instructor immediately made a quiet gesture and asked him to wait outside the door. Larsen tried his best to restrain himself from slamming the door shut in a hurry.
"You didn't check the time?" When the instructor walked out of the door, he complained out of fright.
"My pocket watch was suspended by me." The prophet explained without any guilt. He was empty-handed at the moment, and the strange stone was left in the conference room.
"I gave you another normal watch, teacher, and so did Helen. It's just that they were never put to use." Larson sighed.
"I'll pay attention next time. You didn't make a sound, but it wouldn't have been nice if it had been anyone else." Like Roma or Terrence, for whom noise is as present as breathing. The meeting room is not a forbidden place, and they may interrupt the mysterious rituals inside (of course there is magic to seal the room, but the problem is that the prophets in the tower rarely do that). "The seeds of Abuna are so rare that it would be a crime to waste them."
"That thing is called Yabuna's Seed? Is it a mysterious item? A plant?" Even without looking through his notes, Larson was sure that he had never heard of the related terms.
"As you can see, a damn rock."
"Living stone?"
"Saint Valoran once believed that all things have life, including stones and air. The only difference lies in the amount of grace they receive from the goddess Heather - compared to living things, stones and soil have too little vitality, so they are regarded as dead things. "The prophet told him, "If we apply the vitality theory of natural spirits, we will be dead in front of the seed of Abuna."
This absurd statement is probably a superstition spread during the ancestors' time. But Larsen's senses about the little stone were confirmed. It was indeed something extraordinary. "A seed of life."
"But it will never sprout. I usually use it as a mystery item."
"Can I write it down, Lord Prophet?"
"It's best to forget it. I don't want more people to share my treasure." Although judging from the mystery of "Yabuna's Seed", the people who are qualified to share it can be counted on one hand in the mysterious field. The prophet opened the gold pocket watch, lowered his head and adjusted the hands inside. "I don't need to preside over the ceremony, but the conference room has to be temporarily blocked. Larson, remember to remind our Director of Affairs, he has been too busy recently."
"Is it still about San Carlos? A few days ago he complained to me that the commander's methods were too rough."
"Teach him to be careful. Slandering someone in the back will bring bad luck. But the Ministry of Foreign Affairs does always cause trouble for our president... Oh, keep your voice down, don't wake him up." The prophet blinked. "It is best to initiate the ritual at a moment when his guard is down. Terrence and I have discussed the difference between mystical rituals and mystical rituals, and we have agreed that elevating the former to the level of the latter lacks most the stability of the mysteries. The order is both fixed and ever-changing, but its essence is still mysterious..." He somehow got lost in conversation and completely forgot about the previous reminder.
"How long, my lord?" Larsen asked. "Due to the recent civil war in the Oath Keepers Alliance, many mysterious materials lack sources. Are there enough materials to maintain the rituals inside?" This is what Eroni asked him to ask on his behalf. By his own account, approaching the conference room made him feel extremely uncomfortable. The Director of the Affairs Department, "Storm Songer", is a great astrologer with more seniority than the White Envoy, and his sensitivity to laws and mysteries far exceeds that of a new generation sky realm like Larsen.
"We can hold on for another two weeks at most, and we will be short by then. But it doesn't matter, we have a new source of materials."
"Where?" The future?
"Zangwill. Miracles often happen in the desolate desert."
Larsen was taken aback. "Lucia's followers would actually make a deal with us?" It was as if their goddess appeared in the night.
"Magdalena is dead, Larsen. The Council of Light has lost its only messenger of destiny, and they can only turn to us for help."
"But an astrologer can't replace Magdalena, and she is different from Helen... I won't need to go to the Holy City, right?" Of course the Tower Prophet will not go there in person. "When? I have to prepare-"
"I have already sent someone there. The task of delivering the message of destiny must naturally be left to professionals. Our young messenger set off last week."
Otto is on top. "Uriel?"
"Who else could it be?"
The kid did come back a few days ago, but Larson didn't meet him. "What's going on?" He subconsciously raised his voice, "That position..."
"...It's true that I gave him a reward." The saint disagreed, "But it doesn't mean that it is a false position. He will finish the work beautifully and enjoy the scenery of Sodria." He touched his beard. "Besides, this is for his mentor. The mystery gap is not easy to solve. Even I have to use the Yabuna Seed to complete the ritual."
"You are committing fraud, my lord." Larson pointed out mercilessly.
"Nonsense, don't blame me. These things should have been considered by Aironi, and negotiating with the Glorious Council is also the responsibility of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Right now... is a special period, and we can no longer be alone. Uriel's mission will be over sooner or later. It's fate that has been decided to come true at Knox, but not now. No. We can't let him cause trouble now."
Anti-collection automatic loading failed, click manual loading, reading mode is not supported, please install the latest version of the browser!
